Page 22 of Yellow
He went to the kitchen, filled the pot with water, hung it on the hook in the fireplace, and put another log on the fire.
“The school brought in the CPS, and I was removed from my mother’s care.”
My forehead fell into frown lines. “Why?”
“Abuse and neglect” was his short answer.
“She abused you?”
“Verbally mostly. She didn’t hit me anymore at that time because I was big enough to fight back. But she drank and often we didn’t eat for days.”
“I’m sorry,” I said and moved to the couch.
“Yeah, no child should experience that shit, but it wasn’t always like that. We lived with my grandparents until I was almost twelve and at least there I didn’t starve.”
“Then why did you move out?”
“My mother got a boyfriend, but it didn’t last long. He was a mean son of a bitch.” He sighed. “The day I came to live with Ona was a good day. She saved me.”
“Onava took you in?”
“Yes, and trained me to be a healer.”
“Are you good at it?”
“Very good.” He sat down next to me. “Give me your hand.”
The way he watched me with interest made me slowly reach my hand out to him. With his black hair, caramel skin, and chiseled face, he was just incredibly gorgeous and made me feel like a small girl doting on a teenage boy.
He turned my wrist upward and stroked the insides of my palm gently. “Would you like me to heal you?”
“Heal me?” It was getting warm now. Either the fireplace was throwing off massive heat or his closeness was messing with my senses.
“Yes, you were shot, right?”
“Uh-huh…” I followed his movements.
“What happened?”
Like a hypnotized person, I forgot the anger I had felt toward him only ten minutes ago and started talking.
“Niko came to my place in Seattle. He was angry, accusing me of infidelity, and I couldn’t reason with him. Things turned violent.” As I spoke, Adam kept stroking my palm, his eyes locked with mine.
“Niko had hit me before,” I said softly, my other hand touching my neckline as I continued. “But the strangling was new and I panicked because I couldn’t breathe. Have you ever been strangled?”
Adam nodded slowly. “Yes, it hurts.”
“Yes. I don’t know what made him stop, but it was a small miracle that I got away long enough to hide in the bathroom. Niko was screaming and slamming his fist at the door when I called 911 for help, but there was no window I could escape through. All I could do was cry in fear when he shot at the lock, and then he kicked the door in.” I trailed off, consumed with frightening memories.
“Do you remember him shooting you?”
“No. The last thing I remember is Niko breaking through the door.” My face scrunched, my voice thickened, and my eyes glazed over as I lifted my hand from my neck to my face and whispered. “Hisface… it was so distorted with rage, like a madman coming to kill me. He looked like…”
“Like what?” Adam asked softly.
“Like a stranger,” I said in an exhalation.
“Did you fight him when he got to you?”
