by Ashley Hall
"Excuse me," the guy said, his voice sounding oddly familiar. He looked like he was trying to smile but was failing miserably. The man seemed on edge for some reason. "Can you tell me where I can find Shadow? I know he lives here and—"
"I'm sorry. Who are you?" For all I knew, he was a cop or something and was here to arrest Shadow. As much as I didn't agree with Shadow's missions, I didn't want him to end up in jail over it. He would never change if he was behind bars. He'd just grow even more bitter, and the parts of him I cared the most about would wither and die. No, that couldn't happen.
"I'm his father." He sounded almost shy as he said that, like he couldn't believe it.
Shadow's father? Well, he didn't seem to know who I was, or what I had meant to his son, so we must not have met before. I wasn't remembering him; I had just noticed the resemblance between him and his son. God, that was so depressing!
Wait… they looked alike. Shadow hadn't mentioned his father to me before. Just his foster father—the asshole who had ruined him, scarred him, made him feel that the only way he could cope with his pain was to kill others.
"You're his birth father?" I asked, unable to hide the shock in my voice.
"Yes. Is Shadow around?" He pulled out a barstool but didn't sit down.
I gave him the once over. He was wearing black pants and a t-shirt and looked harmless enough, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to answer him right away. Maybe it was because I didn't know if Shadow had ever told me about his real father before and I just didn't remember, but either way I just couldn’t give him any details. It wasn't possible that his father knew about his missions, right?
"He's not here right now," I said, coming around from behind the bar and reclaiming my barstool. I shoved my plate down the bar. The smell of the uneaten food was making my stomach churn.
"Oh. Ok." Shadow's father rubbed the back of his neck then drummed his fingers on the bar. "Do you know when he'll be back?"
I shook my head, ready to send him away, but my mouth didn't get the message. "I didn't know you two were in touch," I blurted out.
I winced at my accusatory tone. It was Shadow I was upset with. But why? For not telling me more about him? If we talked more with our mouths instead of just falling into bed together, I would know more about him, about our past, about what mattered in his life. Maybe then I would be able to figure out a way to get through to him. Yes, he and I needed to talk more, and we would, as soon as he returned home.
Shadow's father actually shuffled his feet looking slightly embarrassed, which made him look so much younger than his years. He was maybe late forties, early fifties, and if Shadow was going to take after him, Shadow was going to age well. Shadow had some good genes.
"We haven't always been close," his father muttered, glancing away from me. "Who are you? You seem… protective of him." Now he eyed me curiously.
"I'm…" For some reason, I didn't want to tell him I was Sky. "I'm Allie," I finally said.
But saying that name felt like a lie. I wasn't Allie. Not anymore. Probably never again.
His lips twisted into a slight smile. "I thought you might be. It's so nice to be able to put a face to the name. You mean a lot to him. He's told me all about you."
Funny, but he hasn't told me about you, at least not recently. I tapped a finger against my cheek.
Maybe my face showed my skepticism because he asked, "He hasn't told you about me, has he?"
I shrugged. Maybe he had, maybe he hadn't. I didn't know.
"I should've been there for him a lot sooner than I was." The pain in his voice mirrored the pain in Shadow's when he had talked about his foster father.
"Why weren't you?" I asked pointedly. Not that I had a right to be so direct, but I was tired of being ignorant. I wanted to know what had come before, even if the past we were talking about hadn't affected me. Well, not directly at least. Shadow's past affected him so much, was such a huge part of the man he was today, that if I wanted to have any hope of trying to change him, I needed to better understand his past. Since Shadow wasn't here to be able to tell me himself, I'd settle for his father telling me what he knew.
"His mother never told me she was pregnant." His scowl was identical to Shadow's, so much so it was freaky. "Never told me," he repeated in an angry whisper.
"You never knew?" God, that must've been a shock when he had learned about Shadow. To discover you had a son, a son who probably felt abandoned by you, when you hadn't even known the son existed… How could she have kept that from him? Come to think of it, why hadn't she been a mother to Shadow? She must have failed him herself. Was it that easy to be a terrible parent? While I thought I wanted to be a mother someday, Shadow's upbringing was making me frightened. Would I be a good mom, or would I screw my kids up too?
"No. The bitch…" His face turned dark, murderous even, and I shivered. They were definitely related all right. His fingers curled into fists. He was still standing, and his body went rigid, almost unnaturally straight. "She was a worthless excuse for a human being. A terrible mother. She neglected Shadow so much, he was taken away from her and put into foster care. She wasn't ever meant to be a mother. Too damn selfish. Too worried about her own needs and wants. Too consumed with herself. Never gave a damn about anyone else. We weren't together for long. When I realized what a raging bitch she was, I cut out. She didn't even seem to care when I said goodbye." He collapsed onto a barstool, his anger gone and replaced with sadness. "Who knows? Maybe I wouldn't have been able to raise him by myself but… If I could go back… If I had only known about him… Maybe I could have…" He put his head in his hands. "I wish I had been there for him. I do. I don't think he understands just how much I wish that."
He grew silent as he finally sat down on a barstool, and I felt so bad for him. What was his relationship with Shadow even like now? Somehow, I didn't think Shadow was the forgiving type, but his father did seem like a good guy. It wasn't his fault he hadn't known about Shadow until…
"When did you find out about Shadow?" I asked, careful to keep my tone light and non-accusatory.
"Not for a long time. He'd phased out of foster care before I found out about him." He snorted. "She only told me because she wanted to try and get money out of me. When she hadn't even taken care of him. Our son. I get so angry when I think about it."
How terrible. His mother had prevented him from having a relationship with his father, and because of that, Shadow had been subjected to years of abuse. She was as much to blame for Shadow turning into a killer as Shadow himself was.
"Your anger… How do you cope with it?" I asked.
He shook his head, staring straight ahead instead of looking at me. For a few moments, he didn't say anything, and then he stood, and I thought he might be gearing up to leave. But then he said, "I don't usually. Which is why I'm not sure I would've been a good father to him. But I'm trying now."
His saying "trying" made me think their relationship was still shaky. Knowing Shadow, it might always be shaky. "Did he blame you?" I asked quietly.
"I blamed me. I didn't know, but another man who was supposed to have taken on my role, the role I didn't even know I should have had, and he…" Shadow's father squeezed his hands into fists. He was almost trembling with anger. How could Shadow not realize his father was tormented over what had happened? He needed his father. He needed more good people in his life.
I scooted his barstool closer to him. "Why don't you sit?" I suggested.
He sat next to me and went back to staring straight ahead, behind the bar instead of at me. "When I first learned about Shadow, I sought him out immediately. It was late at night, and Shadow… well, it didn't go well. I'm not sure what exactly I expected but… We had a rocky relationship at first. Very rocky," he muttered. I felt a stab of envy at the distant expression on his face. He was clearly remembering that night, and while it couldn’t have been a happy memory, at least he could recall it.
"Did he blame you?" I repeated. I wanted t
o touch his shoulder, to try and comfort him, but I didn't. I wasn't sure if Shadow would appreciate his father telling me all of this, and while that didn't matter to me, it did feel strange to be talking about Shadow behind his back.
"Of course he did. I wasn't there for him." He lowered his chin toward his chest as if in defeat. "The only father figure he had in his life abused him, and now I showed up, years too late. Eventually, we did manage to work through things. I guess you could say we've reached some kind of truce." He shrugged. "Better than nothing, I guess."
"That's good," I said slowly. What else could I say?
"You know it's not enough." He rubbed his chin.
I nodded. "I don't know what will be enough," I confessed.
"Where is he?" His father twisted toward me. I couldn't quite read the expression on his face.
Did he know his son? Truly know him? Did he realize how badly damaged he had become as a result of the abuse? Could Shadow have opened up to him about his missions? Or maybe Shadow might've told him to lash out at him. A "you weren't there for me so look at what I became" kind of thing.
"Do you know what your son does for a living?" I asked, and held my breath.
"Yes." He nodded once, decisively. "So he's out hunting a pedophile. I wondered if that might be the case."
A lump formed in my throat, and my chest tightened. I couldn't answer verbally, so I just nodded. Did his father hate Shadow's missions as much as I did?
"Well, at least this obsession is better than when he was a contract killer." His father shrugged. "I'm sure you agree."
My world felt as if it tilted on its axis. A contract killer? Shadow? He had been a hired gun? As god-awful as it was to kill pedophiles, it was a thousand times worse to be a contract killer, to kill for money.
A freaking contract killer. Oh my God. Shadow. My Shadow. Talk about being cold hearted. A part of me couldn't believe it.
But another part of me could.
Chapter Eighteen
Sky
My hands covered my cheeks. My face was so warm. I couldn't talk. I could barely even think. I couldn't have heard him correctly. Yes, that was it. I had misheard him.
But deep down, I knew I heard him right, but I just couldn't accept it. Shadow never would've done that. His father was mistaken. Shadow might kill pedophiles, but he never would have killed a person for money. Never ever. That was just wrong. That was evil. And Shadow was a lot of things, but he wasn't evil.
The silence stretching between us was awkward and uncomfortable. I wanted to get up and run out of the clubhouse. I just wanted out. I needed fresh air to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating.
"A…" My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. It burned, and I winced at the pain. "He's a contract killer? Shadow is?"
"He was." Shadow's father frowned. Lines etched deeply into his forehead, aging him significantly. "Didn't he tell you? I thought you knew. He made it sound like you two were really close. I didn't think anyone could be that close with him without knowing about his past."
"I…" Once again, I was unable to talk. Was I sad? Angry? Upset? All three, maybe. I didn't even know. I hadn't felt this lost since I had first come to in the hospital.
"Do you know what that means, his being a contract killer?" his father asked quietly. He was looking at me with sympathy in his eyes, and it felt so strange to see sympathy in Shadow's eyes. Shadow had looked at me with all kinds of emotions in his eyes but never sympathy. Could he even feel sympathy?
I couldn't nod or shake my head or anything. I did and I didn't want details. But it would be better to know, right? Knowledge was power and all that jazz.
He wrung his hands. "Maybe he would rather you not know," he muttered.
I glowered at him. "It's a little late for that now, don't you think? Go on and tell me the rest of it. I… I need to know. I can't… Just tell me. Please," I added imploringly.
"This is just going to make him angry with me all over again."
"Should've thought of that before you started talking to me," I snapped. Immediately, I felt badly. "I'm sorry. I just…"
"You had no idea and it's a lot to take in. I understand. Believe me, when I found out… I didn't handle it well at all. It almost ensured we wouldn't have a relationship. I mean, can you imagine learning you had a son who was nineteen years old, meeting him, and then learning he was a contract killer?"
"He told you right away?"
"Yeah. I think he wanted to make sure I wanted nothing to do with him since he wanted nothing to do with me. I couldn't blame him for being upset. If I had been there for him, his life would've been so different. No foster father, no molestation, no blackness growing inside of him. He never would've killed a single person. He could have had a chance at a normal life with a rewarding job could've made a real difference in the world."
"He thinks he is making a difference," I said bitterly. "Killing pedophiles at least."
It wasn't blackness inside of Shadow. It was darkness. A sickness. A disease. It was impossible to expect that he wouldn't be carrying scars from what happened to him, but to react this way, to channel his emotions into such despicable acts, that was wrong.
Saving him had been my goal. Maybe that wasn't possible anymore. Maybe he was already lost to the darkness; too far gone. I sure as fuck didn't feel like I was light enough for myself, let alone for both of us.
A rewarding job. Would Shadow ever consider a real job? I wanted one myself. Maybe I should focus on myself first. Get myself situated with a job and maybe even start beauty school before I tried to straighten out his life.
If he even wanted his life straightened out. If he didn't, there was nothing I could do to help him.
"As bad as that is, killing pedophiles, I do understand where he's coming from," his father said. "Exacting justice as a means of trying to cope."
"Killing people is killing people," I countered. How could I have tried to excuse him for being a monster, a murderer?
"You may be right, but if you want to stay with him, you might not want to tell him that."
I grimaced. What the hell? Just keep him happy and look the other way? What about my happiness? We should be doing everything to work together, to make each other better people. Wasn't that what people in relationships did? Yeah, I watched a ton of romantic comedies in the hospital in between my therapy sessions, so maybe I had a slightly warped sense of what a relationship should be, but I wanted more from us, for us than just out-of-this-world sex. We could be more than that, right? We could still have a future, right?
I wasn't so sure anymore. Trying to think back to the cove was impossible. We had been happy then, but he had been keeping a secret from me and I hadn't truly known him. Would he ever open himself up to me so I could see who he really was? He couldn't hide himself from me. Too much about my own life was a mystery. I couldn't have him be one too.
His father sighed and rubbed his head. "You're right. I told you this much. I might as well tell you the rest. Shadow killed men as a contract killer for the mob."
As if that made it better. The mob. Not only had he killed for money, but he had been a hired gun for the mob!
And that was when it hit me. I could remember Shadow explaining this to me. I couldn't remember how the conversation started, but I remembered we were in this room. I think… yes, the more I thought about it, the more the memories came flooding back. Shadow had been so cold and callous about it all. For a moment, I was lost in the recollection…
***
"It was in the past," Shadow said, as if that would excuse his actions.
"The past never leaves us. It's a part of us. You can't just say it was in the past and expect that not to mean anything!" I shouted. It was late at night and we'd both been drinking. Everything had been fine and dandy until we had started talking about the past. Our lives before we had met, and for some reason, Shadow decided to share about the worst part of his life, the worst job more specifically.
And he was acti
ng as if it was no big deal.
"I don't want to hear any more." I covered my ears with my hands. "I don't want to hear excuses."
"You've more than tolerated my killing pedos," he said loud enough for me to hear despite my hand muffs, loud enough that others would've been able to hear if they were here. Tuesday nights were reserved for the two of us. The bar never drew a crowd on Tuesday nights, and sometimes—most of the time—we wanted time to ourselves, so Shadow had decreed that on Tuesday nights, his boys had to be elsewhere and no customers were allowed in either.
I didn't even want to acknowledge him. I should get up and leave, but my stomach was so nauseous from all of the rum and cherry cokes I'd drank, that I was afraid jumping up and rushing away would be too much. I held my silence, my hands still over my ears.
