Page 62 of Pen Me

I was getting used to being smacked with surprises, but that one was a lot. It was enough to make me question how much trust I had in the man I’d allowed to steal me away in the night. I had nothing but his word to go on. How did I know he wasn’t some hardened killer that was telling me and everyone else whatever we wanted to hear. Much as he had Rumi.

He fell silent for a moment, and I watched his eyes change as he stared at the water’s surface. He looked so distant and vacant; it broke my heart for him a little. Then my brain twitched hard, and I flipped back into military mode.

My training, and the videos all came back. The visits to the medical. The returning soldiers I’d shared an aircraft with on the ride home.

“You’re post traumatic…”

There was no sign he even heard me speak, despite our shoulders touching. I gently cupped his shoulder, and he blinked, but otherwise showed no sign of acknowledgment.

He wasn’t lying. He was in something. Something deeper than he’d ever had to dance in before. I shifted, sliding over his legs until I straddled his lap. He faintly weaved and I cupped his facein my hands. I tried to blanket him with my warmth and force him to look at me. To see and focus on the present instead of whatever ugliness was haunting him.

“Menace,” I whispered, drawing him into a hug. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

I was horrified by the situation and the effect all of this was having on him. I clung to his neck and slowly shifted, rocking with him.

“I killed her.”

I froze with him in my arms, unsure I’d even heard what I thought I had. His breath was so shuddery, and the sound so faint and stretched.

He sucked in a breath like he was coming back from a near drowning and clung to me.

“The public pretender walked out, and the guards pounced.” His words came rushed and paused at awkward intervals as he heaved, and clung to me, his body shaking. “They strapped me– strapped me to a chair for violent, crazy mother fuckers that don’t know how to act calm. They shoved me strapped to that chair into a shower room full of Irish mobsters.”

He sounded like he was having an anxiety attack, his breath heaving and his tone rising and falling, the words gasped at times.

I tried to shush him, to stroke his back and sooth him, but he was so animated, and it just kept pouring from him, “Pipes. They had pipes. They hit me. They fucked me up. Alarm. Lockdown. Guards. They drove me. She drove me for medical treatm— but she stopped… and— and I– I killed her first. I fucking killed her. God help me, I fucking killed that bitch.”

I kept stroking, tears misting in my own eyes at his palpable fear and upset. If what he said was true, it could be seen as self-defense, but how in the hell was he supposed to convince anyone of that?

“You don’t deserve to be tangled up in all of this.” He abruptly sobered, “None of you do.”

He swiped at his face and tore in another breath as he looked around the clearing in front of the cabin.

“Jesus. Look at me, having a pity party on some pretty girl’s shoulder.” He sniffed and tried to laugh at himself, but it sounded hollow.

I ran my fingers along his jaw and gently shushed him, but he shook his head against it, drawing away from my touch a bit.

“You’re gonna end up as fucked up as I am if you stick around to see how all this ends.”

“Hey,” I sounded off, letting a bit of bass into my voice.

It was enough to jar his attention to me and shut him up for a minute.

“We’re going to figure this out. I’m not some pretty girl, remember. I’m your fuckin’ ol’ lady.”

The ragged breath he sucked in and the wayhe canted his head made me want to hug him all over again, until he shook his head.

Then I wanted to shake him. Violently.

Before I could respond, he shifted to stand. I knew he was going to shove me away, and something in me snapped. I slapped him across the face, completely throwing him off kilter with his plans. His face registered with shock and his dark-blue eyes lit up and locked on me.

“Remind me never to do felony favors with you, Menace Zade. You might be a Dirty Savage, but you drown in a cup of water when the shit gets real.”

“Did you just slap me?”

I fought the twitch of a smile, “Baby, I’ve battered your ribs, aimed a gun at you, and yes, slapped the sense back into you when you were reeling. You killed a woman, I get it. In the heat of battle, we don’t get to pick our targets, not when the battle is brought to us. Some unexpected targets are heavier than others, that’s war.”

His eyes cleared and he slowly shifted his head in agreement. “You’re right.”

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