Page 70 of Behind the Shadows
Her eyes snapped to mine with a hint of anticipation.
“I know what you did to Kip.”
30
KIP
“I’m sorry, you did what?” Dope asked, his brows furrowing as he reached for a rolled joint resting on the edge of his desk. He smoothed his burgundy shirt and shook his head.
“Choked her.” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I instantly wished I could take them back. But I needed their help. I needed to know what the hell was wrong with me.
Death leaned against the wall in Dope’s downstairs gaming and work room, arms folded, watching me. His black shirt and pants gave him an even more ominous appearance. Lethal. His gaze was sharp, focused, as if he was seeing me for the first time. Different.
I was different. I was falling in love with a girl I thought I’d killed. And years later, I was confiding in my friends in a way I never had before.
“She’s okay. I’m not.” I shoved both hands through my hair, gripping my skull like I could hold myself together. “Killing evil bastards is one thing. But hurting a woman?” I shook my head. “Fuck no. That’s not me. That’s never been me.” I toyed with the hem of my blue T-shirt.
“It’s not you,” Death finally said. “It’s against who you are. And nothing you tell me would change my mind. Something is fucking with you. What did Holland say?”
His tone was calm, calculated, but warmed slightly when he said Holland’s name. Maybe he was getting used to the idea of her being in my life.
“She said she needed to do some research. I told her about the heroin and my disappearing for days, how I had no idea what the hell you guys were talking about when you kept asking where I was when I disappeared.”
Dope leaned back in his computer chair. “Interesting. No wonder you were defensive as shit about it. You don’t remember anything at all?”
“No. But sometimes I’d suddenly find myself in an old, abandoned church or the basements of old buildings.”
“Here in Portland?” Death tilted his head with curiosity.
“Sometimes, but other times I was in Washington or Idaho.” I cleared my throat. “Holland asked if there was a particular feeling with the time loss. It’s hard to explain, but I wasn’t in control.”
“Like choking Holland. I mean, dude, save that shit for the bedroom.” Dope pressed the button of his lighter and fired up his joint.
My brow arched at him as Death chuckled.
“I’ll be curious what Holland finds out. Give her my number so I can help if she’s okay with that.” Dope started to type something on his computer, but I couldn’t make out the words on the screen.
I quickly relayed the rest of the events and what I’d seen and heard while in the so-called flashback. Shit, I wasn’t even sure what they were anymore.
“So, you couldn’t see any faces, but you recognized the voices?” Death pushed off the wall and joined me on the couch.
I didn’t know if they were flashbacks, dreams, or memories resurfacing through a fog of heroin and trauma. All I knew was they felt real. Too fucking real.
I pressed my lips together, the conversation lingering in my mind. “Yeah. Mother, Uncle, Pastor Pendleton. There were some others at the table too, but I wasn’t sure who they were.”
“For some reason, I don’t recall your mother’s first name. What is it again?” Death waited for me to answer.
Hell, I knew why he didn’t remember, but I didn’t want to get into that conversation right now.
“Her first name is Lily.”
For a fleeting second, Death’s entire body stiffened. “How did I not know that? The pictures of her with the Pied Piper … when I met with him and talked before, he mentioned a woman named Lily.” Death swallowed and his spine snapped to attention. “That he’d dated.”
The room fell into an unsettling silence as I struggled to come to terms with what he’d revealed. Shock slammed into me like a tidal wave.
“What the hell? My motherdatedthat fucker?”
“Yeah,” he growled.
