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He opened his mouth to speak. Opened and closed it. Then he finally whispered, “Why did you give me up? Why did you choose him?”
I furrowed my brow. I had no clue what he meant. I would never choose anyone over him. I didn’t give him up, I fell victim to my own mind.
“I didn’t?” I said, unsure and cautious. “Lucius, I’m sorry. I was asleep, and I woke up in the park. I didn’t know you were taken.”
He frowned, shaking his head, his confusion and anger growing as he watched my eyes so intently.
“I sometimes sleepwalk…” I mumbled, trying to help him understand, ashamed to admit it out loud. Doing so made the power of the curse grip me tighter. Define me.
“You…what?” He took his hands away from my throat and ran his hands through his hair the way he did when he was frustrated or stressed.
“Yes,” I continued and shrugged. “I’ve done it since I was a teenager after…” I let my words trail off, not wanting to relive the horror of that night. “I was taken,” I stated numbly, “By drug dealers…they tortured me. Tried to rip me apart for their drugs.”
He sat silent, waiting for me to continue.
“There were two of them. One was a really bad tweaker. He was chaotic, out of his mind, but I managed to kill him.” My words were like vomit, flowing from my mouth without permission.
“I escaped the place they took me to and ran into the night, but the druggie caught me. He smashed me onto the ground, but I killed him. I killed him with some broken plastic from his taillight. I busted the taillight when they grabbed me. I kicked it.”
The words continued to flow.
“The other guy wasn’t high at all. He was calculative and smart, and he wanted something. I think he was trying to train the druggie. But I stole the car, hotwired it, and ended up in a ditch.”
Lucius reached for my hand. Stroking his thumb over it as I continued letting the tears I’d kept hidden for so many years fall freely.
“I don’t remember anything after that, just that I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt me again. I knew I would be strong, and I’d kill every last one of these zombie addicts.”
“You’ve never killed an innocent,” he said, wincing. “Until you met me,” he continued, watching my tears continue to fall. The salty taste of them blended with the tangy air.
“Until you,” I agreed, sitting down on his lap, unable to stand it any longer. He smoothed my hair, the wind whipping it wildly around.
“But then, why did you arrest me?” he said. “Why were you with them?”
I blinked, my anger and confusion were not able to compute the words he was speaking.
“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I said from exhaustion. “I wasn’t with anyone. I came to save you as soon as I found out!”
“But—” He stopped, his mind visibly spinning, and his gaze bounced between my eyes.
“That’s why,” he said at last. “That’s why I couldn’t find you for so long. Because you weren’t you.”
I was starting to think the police had gotten rough with Lucius. Maybe they’d hit his head. He did have a ton of bruises and scrapes.
Frowning, I put my hands on his cheeks. “Are you okay?”
He locked my hand in his, sighing a long breath before he spoke. “I need you to take us somewhere.”
* * *
Arriving at the apartment Lucius had directed me to find, I didn’t know what he was doing or what this place was to him. Going to the door, a nice man walked out and greeted me, holding it open. Clearly, strangers didn’t care who walked into their homes, which was insanely odd to me, but whatever.
Arriving at the designated door, I stared at the grooved mark on the handle. A strange humming feeling started in my body. Not knowing exactly how, I reached up and grabbed a key from the top ledge of the door, staring at the key in bewilderment as I unlocked then turned the knob.
Immediately, two cats ran toward my feet—a fluffy, huge white one and the little black kitten from the alley. Lucius followed behind me, latching the door shut and watching me as I looked at the place.
I felt the weird humming again. This time, it was amped up to a buzz in my head. It was giving me a headache. Everywhere I looked, a ghostly feeling of what felt like a memory played in my head.
The couch that sat against the window, I knew there was a red wine stain on the left cushion underneath. The bed that was placed along the far wall, I knew the covers came from a garage sale on Sax Street, and in the kitchen, I knew there was a PBJ on the top shelf.
