Page 46 of Behind the Shadows
Dope’s eyes narrowed while he pursed his lips together in a tight line. “Those skills are invaluable, but I have to admit that learning that trade as a teenager is pretty fucked up. I mean, those years shape us. Look at you now. You’re cleaning and covering up shit for a serial killer.”
The muscles in my jaw jumped. “It does something to your brain … breaking down bodies and cleaning blood and bone. Not much fazes me. For years, I was afraid I couldn’t feel anything like a normal person. Hell, I didn’t want to.” My voice was low, haunted.
“The heroin? Is that how it started?” Dope’s tone was free of judgment, and if we had to have this particular conversation, I appreciated his support.
“Yeah. I don’t even remember the first time. I lived in a haze, wondering what was real or not.”
“Is that another reason you’d disappear when we were in school?”
I rubbed the back of my neck, the phantom pain in my arm toying with me. “At first, it was here and there at night or on the weekend when I didn’t have to be around people, then it got worse. Honestly, there’s not a lot that I remember during those days.” Except her.
“Death and I wondered why you always wore long-sleeved shirts and never went shirtless even when it was a hundred fucking degrees.”
“Just hiding the scars.” My skin jumped with anxiety. There were a few other things I could finally tell Dope. “Mother is a religious fanatic. There were times that she forced me to repent for whatever sin she thought I committed. Other times, I disappeared it was to recover from … repenting.”
Dope grimaced. “Okay. That’s weird shit.”
“Her idea of that wasn’t getting on your knees and praying for forgiveness. I mean, part of it was, but she pushed the boundaries of everything she ever did.” I prepared for Dope’s reaction and then I tugged on the black long-sleeved T-shirt and pulled it over my head.
“This is what I mean.” I stared at Dope for a moment before I slowly turned around and showed him my back.
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ. No pun intended, but what the fuck?”
I winced. At times Dope had no good way with words and blurted shit out. And here we were.
Irritated I’d shared that with him, I tugged my shirt back on. “The only reason you know about this is because of who she’s friends with. Are we clear? We never talk about it again,” I growled.
Dope raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, but I have questions first. Give me that, man. Your back is scarred like you were in a fire, but not as raised. Did she burn you?” Dope swallowed hard and sank back into his seat.
“Nope. She carved me up with a knife. At one time, the cuts were angel wings, like she thought she could redeem my soul after sending me out to clean crime scenes.”
“That’s some warped shit,” he muttered. “We had no idea you were going through that. Why didn’t you say anything? We could have helped. Death could have taken care of her back then. Fuck! No wonder you hate her so much. How do you take care of her now? I’m surprised you haven’t fucking killed her. She’s dying anyway. You wouldn’t even have to feel guilty.”
I glanced away from him, shame ripping through my chest. “Because she was how I scored. At first, she gave me opiates for the pain after she carved me up, then when I was addicted tothem, she used them to control me. It was her way to ensure I never told anyone what she was doing.”
Dope’s jaw hit the floor. “Fucking hell, this keeps getting worse. Your own mother got you hooked on heroin?” He slapped his hands over his face and shook his head.
“She’s evil. There’s no other way to say it. She manipulated me, controlled me, made sure I helped my uncle and kept silent about the work.”
“And what did your uncle have to say about her carving you up? He knew, right? Those summers you were gone as soon as school was out …” His expression twisted with pain.
“He never stopped her. Now you know.”Just not everything.
Dope stood and walked over to me. Before I realized what he was doing, he threw his arms around me in a big hug. “I’m sorry for letting you down, Kip. We were kids so we didn’t know to look for signs of abuse and shit. That’s no excuse. I’ll do better by you. You’re my brother. You know I’ll kill for you … even give my life to save yours.”
His words sank in, and I gave him a brotherly hug back. “Same for you, man. You couldn’t have known. We were young, and she was a master at covering it up. So was I.”
Dope released me and stepped back. “Okay.” He rolled his shoulders and then popped his neck. “I need to think in order to figure out how I’m going to look for the connection between the Pied Piper and your mother and uncle … fuckin’ A, man, even the pastor. That doesn’t make any damn sense.”
“I’ll try to think of anything I can remember, but those years are pretty hazy.”
“I need to get back home with all my equipment. I have a feeling this shit is going to be the challenge of my life.” Dope grinned. “I’m ready to take that bitch down. Should we make her suffer more or?”
I gave him a lopsided grin. “She’s dying and struggling to breathe. If we kill her now, we’ll be doing her a favor.”
“Yeah. No. Not fucking helping her.”
Dope collected his computer and shoved it into the laptop bag, and we headed back to the airport where the plane was waiting for us. Since Dope was deep in research, I turned the stereo on and “my truth’s a lie” by Psylosia played while my brain spun out like a tornado with thoughts of Mother, Uncle Vinny, the Pied Piper, and Holland.Holland.
