Page 8 of Behind the Shadows
His expression remained stoic. “As long as there isn’t any evidence, they won't find me.”
I grimaced. “We try to make sure it’s all destroyed, but we’re only human. We’re bound to fuck up at some point.”
As we methodically dismantled the crime scene, I wondered how many more victims would become Death’s prey. He had done what I’d only fantasized about. Wipe the earth of evil. It was what it was though, and he had my full support until we both went down, or we burned in hell. The city was a maze of secrets, and we were two threads in its complex tapestry, but one wrong move on our part would end everything.
“You think they'll ever catch us?” I asked as we continued our gruesome task.
He chuckled, a twisted sound that echoed through his respirator mask. “No. They won't. Let them chase the shadows. We’ll stay one step ahead. At least we’ve been able to in the past.” A flicker of doubt crept into his tone, but I didn’t say anything.
“Just remember that I can’t protect you if either of us is behind bars. If the police found out what I was doing for you, that would be the end of me.”
Death paused, his gloves covered in blood and white, sticky bone shards. “If you got caught, I would wonder if you’re still on my side, or if I had to add you to my list.”
My brow arched. Even though I thought our friendship would hold true over the test of time and issues, I didn’t think he would actually kill me. At least I was clear on where I stood with him if shit ever went down and I was arrested, but I refused to let those thoughts clutter my mind.
Before I responded, the corner of his lips kicked up in a grin. I knew him well enough to understand there was a warning in his words if I ever turned on him, but he was also fucking with me. One thing about Death, his sense of humor was dark, and sometimes it was hard to tell if he was serious or kidding.
“You’re not getting rid of me, motherfucker. We’re always a team. Besides, I might need you one day.” I cleared my throat, ready to get the hell out of here and ditch the respirator. “I’ve had a lot of other crap to deal with too.” I stopped myself before Itold him about my mother. That would be a shitshow for another day.
Sweat dripped down my forehead and blurred my vision as I scrubbed the stained cement. Each swipe of the sponge brought me closer to erasing all traces of the dead guy who had lain here a few hours ago. As I worked, a sense of satisfaction washed over me, knowing my training was being put to good use. Not a single trace of the body was left behind.
A sharp, blinding pain shot through my head, the room tilting as her voice hit me. My fingers balled at my sides, blood pounding so hard in my ears it was like a war drum.
“You’re sick, and you have to be punished, Kip.”
“Don’t, please!” I tugged at the collar around my neck in a vain attempt to loosen it to breathe better. Even without a shirt, the heat and stifling air were enough to suffocate me.
“It’s time to read the scriptures and pray for redemption.” Mother’s expression shifted with a moment of fleeting compassion before it was replaced with disgust.
The heavy wooden door of the basement opened, and a pretty brunette who was close to my age was brought into the room by a man I didn’t recognize. She smiled at me before she knelt with the Bible clutched to her side.
“2 Chronicles 7:14,” she began. “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and heal them.” She set the Bible on the dirty floor and folded her hands in her lap. “It’s time to repent.”
My gut twisted like barbed wire, and I clenched my jaw to brace myself. Mother reached into her pocket and removed a metal cross. Regardless of the appearance, that cross only brought me hell.
She walked over to me and jerked my chain so hard I dropped to my knees. The contact with the hard cement sent shooting pain through my entire body.
From the edge of my sight, I watched the bitch pull the knife blade out from the middle of the cross. She grabbed my hair and forced my head forward, allowing her better access to my back.
“For God so loved the world,” she said as the tip of the blade carved into my back. “That he sent his only son.”
I gritted my teeth, the pain excruciating as she continued to carve up my skin. Tears stung and blurred my vision, but I had to focus on the hate I felt for her. It was the only protection I had against her.
“Amen,” Mother said, her cruel and vicious cleansing ceremony over. Even so, the pain would last for months.
“Take this time of solitude to continue ridding yourself of evil. Maybe God will have pity on you and restore the color of your eyes to what they should be.”
I trembled violently, and I stared at the ground, refusing to look at her.
The girl got to her feet, and then the sound of footsteps climbing the basement stairs echoed in the dank room. With the pull of a string, the light went out, and I was swallowed by the abyss.
My pulse slammed in my throat as I struggled to grasp reality again. The room blurred in and out until I was present again.
“Ready?” Death gripped my shoulder.
“Yeah,” I croaked out, attempting to cover the fact that I’d disappeared inside myself for a minute. I couldn’t let him know my flashbacks had returned with full force. He would want to know what they were about, and that was something I wouldn’t tell anyone. Ever.
A comfortable silence stretched between us as we walked through the abandoned warehouse, our combat boots the only noise on the concrete surface. We reached the door, and I opened it, then stepped outside. Dusk had fallen, and the sound of the crickets chirping in unison caught my attention. A hush fell over the area, broken by a flicker of movement—someone hiding behind a tree.
