Page 25 of Cruel Charming Psychos (Necessary Evils 2)

“Yeah.” I scratch nervously at the back of my head. “That’s what she said. I wasn’t there when it happened.”

She seems to nod in agreement, but I know when I’m being bullshitted and she’s bullshitting me. “The blunt trauma to the back of her head could have been life threatening. Judging by the size of the swelling, it would seem she suffered ahardfall.”

I fully understand the underlying implication. “I would never hurt her.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything, sir. When she awoke, she insisted that she’s a klutz and that’s all it is. Between you and I though, people in this town are well aware that that girl has a habit of getting into trouble and she’s not always the honest type.”

And then I remember where I’ve seen her before. She’s a friend of my mother, or at least knows her well enough to score an invite to her parties. I don’t think she was at Emily’s party, though. Regardless, the words coming out of her mouth are borderline unprofessional and she obviously knows exactly who I am considering her relationship with my mother.

“You can go see her now,” she says before turning to walk away.

But before she can go, I grab her by the arm. “How’s the baby?”

She tilts her head slightly. “Mr. Callaway, I’m not sure if I understand the question.”

“She’s pregnant.”

She purses her lips slightly and shifts her weight nervously to one foot. “The two of you aren’t married or in a domestic partnership, correct?”

“We’re not even technically together.”

She raises her clipboard to cradle it in her chest. “Then I’m afraid that I can’t share any further information with you.”

And then she turns to walk away again, but I’m not finished. I have no intention of letting her go until she gives me answers because I’m starting to suspect that the only thing Addison is pregnant with is a load of bullshit. I grab her arm again, harder than before.

She narrows her eyes on me, and grinds out, “Sir, I’m going to ask you once to remove your hand from me.”

I take a deep breath and release my grip and then she’s finally gone, walking fast down the hallway as if she can’t get away from me fast enough. What I’ve just done could be classified as assault in the state of New York, so I’m lucky I was able to pull myself back from the brink of anger. It’s a fucking terrifying experience to reach the point of almost blacking out, when I’m fully aware my head can go to some pretty dark fucking places.

I think about what it could mean that the doctor refused to answer my questions. Perhaps I’m just overthinking things and the only reason she couldn’t tell me that the baby was fine was because of privacy laws. For now, I settle on that being the answer.

When I reach Addison’s room, she’s already wearing the dress from earlier. There’s a hospital gown pooled at the floor beside the bed. She cocks her head over her shoulder to look at me, but her eyes are empty. There’s a sadness there, weighing her down. Or maybe it’s something else.

I lean against the doorframe, waiting for her to be ready.

ChapterTwelve

ADDISON

Home. Is it ever anything more than four walls and a roof? Is there a difference between a house and a home? For example, is it possible to consider somewhere home if there’s no standing living quarters? All I know is that I’m not sure I’ve ever really belonged anywhere. Home is temporary stops from one place to the next, and then back to the beginning only to start the vicious cycle over again.

I remember the first steps I took when I got off the Greyhound bus for the first time. Back then, the idea of North Carolina was the promise of a fresh start. I could have truly been anyone that I wanted to be without the shadows of my past chasing me halfway across the country. Sometimes, I liked the girl that I chose to be. She was sweeter and softer than the cuts on my wrists and thighs would suggest. She was weak and that was okay, but in the deepest hours of the darkest nights, she still cut herself.

Slowly, she began to realize that the one demon she could never outrun was herself. She saw that demon every time she glanced into a mirror, no matter how short of a glance it was. The only way to rid herself of the demons that haunted her was to return home to the place where it all began. It didn’t start off that way, of course. It began with a phone call from a dear friend saying that her mother was sick and needed her help. That was always an excuse though. Deep down, she didn’t care if her mother lived or died. She cared about finding a way to quell the piercing screams of the demons inside.

I should have known then to stay away. My past reads like a tragic novel, and there was never a reason to suspect my future could be any different. Asher believed in me, but he didn’t know me. His ignorance cost him his life and that’s just one more demon tugging away at my soul. At this point, I’m not sure there’s anything left to save.

All that’s on my mind is the burial first, and then after I’ve said my last goodbyes, I’m prepared to fully embark on a journey of revenge. I don’t care about the consequences of my actions any longer.

I always used to joke about sending a friend to my own funeral. They would be instructed to wear all black and just generally appear mysterious to make the few people that would show for the funeral suspect that I was harboring some kind of dark secret. Now, here I am dressed in all black, watching Asher’s burial from a distance.

The Carolina air is hot and humid, just as I remembered. It’s not quite as hot in New York and gets cold much faster, often without much notice. The winters are fucking brutal up there. Down here, they’re not so bad. A little bit of frost here and there, but I never saw even a blip of snow.

There’s about fifty people or so gathered underneath a tent and surrounding it. Beneath the tent is Asher’s body locked eternally inside a wooden casket that’ll be sealed in a tomb beneath the earth. I find it strange that I never knew Asher’s family, even after being with him for years. We both hid aspects of our lives from each other.

As the preacher preaches and the people around him drown in their own tears, I can’t help but to be chilled. It’s like the warmth of the sun fades and I’m transported into a wintery hellscape of my own making. I pull my arms close to my body and lean against the thick trunk of an oak tree.

The guilt that tugs at my soul dries away the tears before they can emerge. Asher and I had a complicated relationship that was built on a foundation of lies. I needed him and he needed me, and when I left him in the middle of the night, I should have known that he’d find me. I should have known that my association with him would cause him great suffering.

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