Natural Selection

by Amanda Lance

  “You should be ashamed of yourself. What you did was very selfish—even for you. I have never seen someone in such hysterics—”

  “Oh yes…” He tried to laugh. “I image Mrs. Levkin had quite a fit when she saw the likes of me. Tell me, Aasif, did I mess up my hair too badly? I wouldn’t want to lose my looks just because I’m dead.”

  “Mrs. Levkin isn’t who I’m talking about,” Aasif said with a slight rolling of his eyes. “Speaking of which, I hope you don’t mind us ignoring the do not resuscitate document. Then again, once the threats were dispersed, I hardly had a choice—”

  “You should have let me die,” he said again. The tears rose up at the thought of Emilia Ward, of the life he wanted to give her and never could. “I got to see her. Did you know that? I was allowed to see her smile and hear her voice. She cried for me and asked me not to die! Told me she was sorry and that she loved me! I will never have that while I am alive…”

  “Has that shot damaged your eardrums?” He looked to his left and pointed to indicate something important. Normally, Kasper would not have bothered to even humor the man, and yet mere curiosity and the need to release the tension in his neck prompted him to listen. He rotated his head to the injured side and cursed to himself. Why was this better than death again? And what was Aasif babbling about when he said threats were being made in regard to his welfare? Even with the thoughts he could manage, none of it seemed to make sense. And as a result was in the middle of swearing again when his eyes focused to the lounge chair in the corner.

  Sleeping right there, curled up into herself, was the gentle villain herself.

  Kasper blinked hard, once, twice, three times before moving his hand to wipe the blurriness from his eyes. If his mind were deceiving him, she would disappear then, wouldn’t she?

  “S-she’s here.” He glanced back at Aasif again for confirmation. “S-she is here. Isn’t she? You see her, too?”

  Aasif scoffed and went back to examining his nails. “Yes, Kasper, I see her, too.” He chuckled. “And I have seen her for the last two days cry her eyes out for you and your idiocy. If I never live to see it again, I would be happy.”

  “B-but she—she—”

  “You should have kept an eye on things other than Emilia Ward, Kasper.” Aasif sighed before sitting up and reaching for his jacket over the chair. “Your degenerate aunt and her wayward children, for example…”

  “J-Jamshid is dead,” he stuttered. “I saw them burn the body myself.”

  “Yes,” he said with a twinkle in his eye that Kasper found most irritating. “I have reconfirmed that myself just this past hour. Yet Cyrus is as alive as one could be. In fact, he is of age now, and from what I understand, recently living in Ithaca, New York.”

  “What?”

  “Exactly.” Aasif smiled. “If you had asked more questions when Emilia Ward was trying to break your spirit, then maybe you could have saved yourself that headache you surely have. Not to mention the forty-some-odd stitches…”

  Aasif stopped himself then, his gaze heading over to the sound of a soft groaning coming from the corner. It seemed, that with the outbreak of conversation not even two days of sleeplessness and a cup Mrs. Levkin’s tea—with the secret extra additive of chamomile and lemon balm—could keep Emilia from her worry for Kasper. And once her eyes focused in enough to see what was happening, her face lit up.

  “Kasper! Oh, thank God!” She threw the blanket off and rushed him immediately. Aasif found himself out the door a second later, much too disturbed by her display of emotion than he would have cared to admit.

  Emilia, meanwhile, knelt by his side, her frame just tall enough to lean her elbows against the edge of the bed where he lay. Kasper wanted to say a million things in response to her quickly forming tears, but did not know how. In addition to his sense of humor, she had taken his tongue and quick wit.

  “Can I get you anything?” She offered. “How do you feel?” Emilia closed her eyes and shook her head violently. “Sorry, that was such a stupid question…”

  “What are you doing here?” he said after several tries.

  “I— came to see you. When you didn’t answer your phone—”

  “You should not be here.” Kasper closed his eyes. Perhaps, if he didn’t have to look at her, this second rejection would be easier. “I did not want you to see this.”

  “See you kill yourself, you mean?” She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, frustrated, it seemed to him, to have to deal with him at all. “Oh Kasper, I am so sorry—”

  “Don’t,” he insisted as harshly as he could. “You were kind enough to string me along while you did.”

  “I didn’t string you along, Kasper.” She heaved more with each second, making her words nearly inaudible through her sadness. “That’s why I was in such a hurry to get here. I had to talk to you, to explain—”

  “There is nothing to explain. I cannot blame you the bluntness of your confession. I am grateful that you deceived me for as long as you did. You were the greatest lie of my entire life.”

  Her response, however, was not one he had expected. Instead of sighing in relief or even walking out without another word altogether, Emilia sobbed louder than before, her tears falling recklessly against his hand. How could she take everything away from him but her ability to inspire pain? How did she make her tears feel like acid on his skin?

  “It is all right, my love,” he cooed when she began to hiccup through her cries. “Can’t you see it is much better this way? That it is the only way?”

  “No, Kasper! I love you, I always have…”

  “Emilia, you don’t have to do this,” he insisted, wishing he had more energy to sit up properly, to do more than try and wipe at her tears. “I want you to be happy, if that is with your young man, then—”

  “No!” Her shout disturbed him more than he expected, her voice becoming clear and resolute in her sudden anger. “You don’t understand.” Emilia stood up to look for the tissue box then, her clumsy hands tired of drying tears that would not stop. “I was lying!”

  She blew her noise loudly. “It was all just a lie he made me tell. He told me he’d kill you if I didn’t.”

  “Made you?” Kasper squirmed to sit up and flinched at the pain. From turning to look at her, his head had seeped fresh blood, turning the pillow case a bright red. He hoped the sight wouldn’t disturb her too terribly. “What do you mean by that?”

  “He had a gun.” Emilia blew her nose once more before coming back over to sit with him. If he would at least let her explain, then half her purpose would be complete. “He was the one who attacked Claudette after the masquerade! Remember when I mentioned to you about the dress she lent me?”

  He managed to nod before she continued.

  “Andr—Cyrus saw it and knew I would be at the gala; he hurt Claudette, thinking she was me.”

  “What?” he roared. “That bastard went after you?”

  “Not just me, he only did that to get back at you! If I didn’t say those awful things, he threatened to come after you—he—he poisoned Tut just to prove he could hurt me.”

  That was more than he needed to hear. Kasper sat up fully then, struggling to move his feet to the side of the bed so he could stand. That little khar had tried to attack him? Gone after his little peach and hurt her? The penalty, of course, would have to be death for such an offense—but why would the little khar bother with him now? When Kasper last saw him, Cyrus had been little more than a toddler, too stupid enough to punish, and just enlightened enough to know that shunning his unwanted cousin was an encouraged practice. It was difficult, however, to think the little boy had transformed to the degenerate he had seen in Emilia’s apartment. And his instincts implored him to listen to Emilia’s voice alone.

  “W-what are you doing?” she yelled. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I’m going to kill him,” he said, ripping at the IV tape. “Obviously.�
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  “No. I—” She pushed him back down and started again. “The police have him now. You don’t have to do anything!”

  “If he harmed you, then I do!”

  “No, please, just stop. You shouldn’t even be moving yet.”

  How could he deny a request from her when she was beautiful even with her red eyes and tired lines around her face? He sighed to himself before silently swearing revenge. If Cyrus was still alive, he would not be for much longer.

  “T-the police helped you, then? Kept you safe?”

  “Not exactly,” she admitted. “When he tried to shoot me, Tut almost bit his hand off and tore an artery in his thigh.”

  That mutt? That mangy, stinking mutt saved his little peach?

  “Kasper? Are you okay? What is it?”

  He shook his head. “I did not know I could ever have such admiration for a dog.”

  She laughed just a little then, the soft sounds of relief and release evident through her smile. And it occurred to him then the source of his unease and the mentioning of Mozart… she had been trying to warn him. Had Emilia really so easily put herself in danger for his sake? Had she really sent away her most true protector for the love of everyone but herself? How was she capable of being so selfless? More importantly, how was he not capable of seeing it right away?

  “Is it even remotely possible that you can forgive me?”

  “Forgive you?” Though her laugh was all sarcasm, Kasper dwelled in the sound, a relief enthused shock working its way through him. “I’m the one who was stupid enough not to see Cyrus for what he was, for not thinking of a way to get myself out of that mess. Why should you ask for forgiveness when I’m the sorry one?”

  “I should have seen what was happening. Asked more questions, been more insistent for an explanation. If I had, I could have kept you out of danger and… my god; the peril I must have put you through.”

  “You didn’t do this,” she said with more determination than he deserved. “Your cousin did. But what I want to know is why. Why does he hate you so much?”

  “It is complicated.”

  “Try me.”

  He sighed deeply before continuing. Kasper had to admit that if he owed her nothing else, he could give her the truth. After all, maybe if she had known about his past more than she had, she would have been able to protect herself better. This entire incident was his fault in more ways than one.

  “My parents were not only children. They had an older sister who disliked both of them immensely. I understand the unveiling of their relationship was merely the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

  “He said—claimed—that you sent his brother to prison. Is there anything to that?”

  Kasper took leave to stare up at the ceiling. How difficult it was to forget, how easy to remember…

  “I was recovering from a plastic surgery attempt when the Christian missionaries contacted her. She claimed she took me in out of the charity of her heart, that if it was the will of Allah that I should live, it was his will that she should take care of me…”

  “That strict childhood you always change the subject when I ask you about?”

  He nodded and reached for more water. “It became clear early on that her generosity had more to do with vengeance than charity, entertainment rather than kindness.”

  “Entertainment?”

  “It was a favorite game of hers to find reasons for whipping me, to deny me food, water…”

  “Oh, Kasper.” Emilia blinked away her tears. How could someone be so cruel to a child who so clearly didn’t deserve it?

  “She refused to allow me to attend school, to go outside and reveal the shame that I represented. I learned by stealing my cousin’s textbooks. I’d spend all night reading them in the closet before returning them to his knapsack in the morning.”

  “Closet?”

  “Yes.” He swallowed and continued on. Kasper hoped that as soon as he said it, he’d never have to say it again. “The one space I was allowed to occupy without prior permission.”

  “How awful…”

  “Jamshid was nearly my age. When I first met him I had the hope that children often have of friendship, but he was encouraged to be unkind to me—praised for it when he acted creatively enough. When I left that house, Cyrus was still very little. To be honest, I never gave him much thought. I only knew that I could not have another tormentor and live to tell of it.”

  “What about this prison thing, then? Did he get in trouble for hurting someone else?”

  “In a way,” Kasper mused with a small smile. “I was just starting out in the UK when I learned he had been indicted for embezzlement and tax fraud. As favored as he was by his mother, she never did teach him honorable business ethics. Downright spoiled him, if you ask me.”

  “What does that have to do with you?”

  His small smile turned into a full smirk. “I went to visit him in jail, offered amends by paying for his attorney fees and smoothing things over with his clients.”

  Emilia couldn’t help but smile herself. “I take it you didn’t?”

  “Oh no.” He laughed. “I did. I just happened to hire the most incompetent lawyer money could buy before revealing some of his… proclivities to his wife and clients. Even when he did get out, I wanted to make sure he would be ruined.”

  Emilia wasn’t sure what to think. Normally, she hated lies and the concept of revenge seemed juvenile at best. Whatever happened to turning the other cheek? Yet the sound of Kasper’s suffering made anger boil up in her that she wasn’t proud of. In those moments that Tut was biting Cyrus, she had wanted him to die—hurt at a bare minimum. Did that make her a bad person? A weak person? If she wanted to hurt him for one offense, she couldn’t begin to imagine what Kasper had felt after a lifetime of abuse.

  “I later learned his mother had died. Smoke and drank herself into a first-rate heart attack. I was glad, Emilia! Glad that I had made them suffer as much as they had made me! I cannot tell you…”

  “It’s okay,” she soothed, moving a wisp of hair from the head bandage. “What you did, what you felt… it may not have been the most morally sound thing in the world, but it is the most natural. No one could judge you for… giving karma a helping hand.”

  “Do you still hate me? Despise me for what I am?”

  “You’re only a man, Kasper. How could I hate you for that?

  He smiled and leaned into the tips of her fingers. If this was hell, he was a happy man to have it!

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me about him? About all of it?”

  “There are many things about my life I’d like to forget—that was one of them. If I didn’t want to be burdened with my past, it certainly didn’t seem to be fair to do the same to you.”

  “That’s what you do in a relationship, Kasper. You share your problems, your thoughts, your fears…”

  “The only fear I had was losing you.”

  “I know.” She ran the nail of her index finger against his. “So did he. That’s why he wanted to break us up before he killed us.”

  Kasper gritted his jaws against each other. It seemed that even in the emergency that was his apparent rescue; no one had thought to remove his artificial teeth. “Maximum efficiency.”

  Emilia sniffed hard, turning her head and looking away from the embarrassment she felt. “Kasper, I know what I did was appalling. Unforgiveable—”

  “You were doing what you had to do to survive. People have done far worse to get through the day, let alone stay alive.”

  “That doesn’t excuse it.” She opened her eyes and stared into his. Wasn’t it wonderful how humane he looked without his mask? While she often enjoyed the challenge of trying to read his expression, occasionally it was nice to not have to analyze his features. Still, Emilia couldn’t be entirely sure. Was that relief she saw sketched on his brow or just her wishful thinking?

  “At first, I thought hurting you was the first
thing I could do…but hearing that shot? Seeing you lying there and not knowing if you were alive or not? It was more terrible than anything I’ve ever experienced. Kasper, I could apologize until I lost my voice, but it would still never be enough. Please tell me, how much do you hate me? Will you resent me forever or is there even the slightest hope—”

  “You should not feel so terrible,” he said, resisting the urge to laugh. “Ending my life was my decision…no one held a gun to my head like they did yours.”

  Emilia smiled at his attempt at humor. Still, with his wounds fresh, she couldn’t allow herself to laugh.

  “I will always love you, Emilia Ward, and nothing in this world or the next will change that. Haven’t I expressed that adequately enough by now?”

  “You still love me?” She shook her head as if the disbelief would fade away. “I think you should be run through the MRI again, an EEG, at least one more CT—”

  “It is my head I shot, foolish girl.” Kasper laughed freely at the disapproval on Emilia’s face. “Not my heart.”

  “But you did shoot yourself, Kasper! If I’m the reason you became so self-destructive, then I deserve to be punished just as much as your cousin. I shouldn’t have this much power over your actions, over your life!”

  “Perhaps not, but for all the misery you could give me, you have just as much power to give me joy. All you have to do is renew our friendship, let me steal from you some of that light that keeps you so illuminated.”

  She nodded seriously and began biting the inside of her cheek. “If only being your friend is the penance I have to pay—”

  “Penance?” He chuckled. “For me? Hardly. It is only that losing you once almost killed me, Emilia; I don’t think I could bear to live through it again.”

  “You won’t have to,” she pleaded. “I’ve wanted to be with you since the moment I saw you that’s never changed. I’m not competent enough to love anyone as much as I love you.”

  Kasper smirked and rotated his neck again. Emilia’s foolishness must have rubbed off on him after all. Otherwise how could he have been so outrageous, so careless with her welfare when it so plainly intertwined with his own?