Page 34 of Heart of a Killer

“It was just an old memory of my dad.”

“Do you wanna talk about it? I’m a really great listener.”

She lets out a long sigh as I run my fingers through her hair and cut off some of the red pieces.

“He...” She stops as if to find the words to explain it to herself. “He expected a lot from me after my mom died. As if she was the only thing that held him together, or maybe he was always expecting someone to take care of him, but since she wasn’t there as a target, he had to find a new one. Sorry, I don’t know if I’m explaining it right.”

“That’s okay, just let it out. Don’t worry, I won’t judge you.” I continue to clip the red from her hair.

“Well, I guess what I’m saying is I don’t remember him acting the way he did toward me before my mom got sick. But after she passed away, it was like he found a way to blame me for any simple inconvenience he had. I would get home from school and hurry to get my homework done before he got home so that I could clean the house and get supper ready for him. There were some days when I couldn’t finish my schoolwork in time before he got home, and he would yell at me. If I tried to explain myself, he would call that an excuse and ‘smack some sense into me.’ Tell me how worthless and disappointing I was. I would never be good enough for a husband if I couldn’t do these basic tasks.” She wipes the tears from her eyes.

“There were a few times he would get mad over the way I dressed or how I looked. He would belittle me and tell me to go back to my room to change. Sometimes he got physical, especially if he was drinking.”

I clip off more strands of red as I hear her take a few deep breaths.

“My best friend Nicole knew something was wrong, and she would offer for me to stay with her and her family sometimes. I didn’t want to feel like a burden to them, so I wouldn’t stay for long. It seemed like things would get worse every time I went back home. He would bring up boys I went to school with and if I ever let them touch me. The whole thing made me uncomfortable, and I finally told him I’m a lesbian. That really set him off. He told me I couldn’t be gay. I had never tried dick before, so there was no way. I wish I would have had half the mind I do now. I probably would have told him he could be gay; he doesn’t know until he tries dick, but that probably wouldn’t have gone over well. He would just give me another beating.” I feel the tension in her shoulders relax as she gets to the end of her story. The stress of finally letting out those worries and trauma.

“Things didn’t get better until I was able to move out for college. He even tried to hold that over my head like he wielded the power to take it away from me at any second if I didn’t do what he wanted, like get a husband and not be gay.”

I run my hands through her hair to ease more of the tension she is holding. She seems to relax a bit at my touch.

“I can’t even imagine what that must have been like.”

“I wouldn’t have known that it wasn’t normal if it wasn’t for Nicole and her family. They were kind and welcoming. They included me as if I was just another daughter to them. I owe Nicole for a lot of things. I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for her. She saved me more times than I can count.”

“She sounds like a great friend,” I reaffirm as the heat in my belly spreads. I love the fact that she is opening up to me.

“She really is. There was a time when I had the biggest crush on her, but I could never tell her.”

Her now-short brown hair swings around her face when she turns to look at me, her mouth lifting into a smile. The warmth from my belly moves up into my chest at the sight of her.

“You know she kissed me once, and I thought she was using me but come to find out, she was just trying to get this creep’s attention off me. Like, hey, she’s gay, dude, find someone else.”

She laughs a little at that. It’s musical and infectious, which makes me giggle in return. It echoes in the room before she holds a hand over her mouth to block the sound. Her eyes are wide in surprise. The look on her face has a bubbling sensation climbing up my throat, and another burst of giggles escapes my lips.

“Yeah, I’ve been there, done that,” I joke.

“Really?” she questions; skepticism bleeds from her words, and her eyebrows pinch, creating a line between them.

“I mean ... I’ve crushed on my friends before,” I chuckle. “I’ve never had my friend save me from a creep before, though.”

“Well, I can tell you it doesn’t work, but that’s a long story for another day.” She waves her hand, dismissing the topic.

She turns back around for me to finish cutting her hair, and I can’t help thinking of how good we are together if I would just talk about my feelings. Things are easy between us, and I could sit and talk with her for hours when I’m not all up in my feelings and being petty. I guess that’s something that comes with experience and age.

Running my fingers through her soft hair, I check the strands I’ve cut to see if I can find any more red, but there are none.

“I think that’s all of them. It’s definitely not the best haircut, but it’s still really cute on you,” I say.

She turns to face me again, and her hair swings above her shoulders. The moonlight from the window highlights the shades of golden browns as she runs her hands through the strands and admires my work.

“I love it. It feels good. I haven’t had it this short in what feels like years.”

There are stray hairs on her shoulders and chest. I lean in, brushing off her shoulder before moving to her chest, where my fingers linger. Goosebumps erupt when my hand glides down lower on her supple chest and hear her breath catch at my closeness. Looking up into her mossy green eyes, I notice faint flecks of blue in them.

“You are beautiful, Sky. And I really am sorry for rejecting you the other night.”

My fingers trace the outline of her lips, then along her jawline and back down to her chest again. I trace along the hem of her sports bra, making her shiver.

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