The Secrets of Their Souls

by Brooke Sivendra

  She giggled properly now. “I washed my hair yesterday afternoon, I suppose that’s why. I like the smell.”

  “Oh, I love the smell,” he said, climbing on top of her. He wanted to forget about their problems and their complicated past and he’d found a way to do so that never failed—fucking her brains out.

  *

  Kyoji was sitting on his couch, watching Cheaters, when Jayce walked in.

  “I hope I never end up on this show,” he said and laughed, unable to peel his eyes from the screen in order to greet his brother.

  Kyoji had sent him a text message yesterday morning advising he would be coming to stay for a few weeks. He was here on business and Jayce didn’t ask any questions—the less he knew about Kyoji’s business, the better.

  Jayce scoffed. “Be smart, or keep your dick in your pants when your girlfriend isn’t around, and you’ll be fine,” he said as he sat down next to his brother. Jayce could not stand reality TV and he could not understand how any intelligent being could watch it. But there sat Kyoji, one of, if not the most intelligent person he’d ever known, with his eyes glued on an unattractive blond woman beating on her husband’s mistress while ranting obscenities that should never be spoken from anyone’s lips.

  A few minutes later, the show finished, which pleased Jayce immeasurably, and now he had Kyoji’s full attention.

  “So, how are you? How are things with Zahra?” Kyoji asked.

  “Things are… complicated. She stayed over on Saturday night. The painting worked better than I could have imagined.” Kyoji’s cigarettes were sitting on the table and Jayce took one and lit it up. Inhaling deeply, he let the harsh burn crawl down his throat, the cancer smoke settling in his lungs. It was a disgusting habit, but he liked it anyway, on the odd occasion.

  “Right, so why don’t you seem more pleased with your efforts?” Kyoji lit up too and Jayce walked over to the windows and opened them, hoping it would be enough to exhume the smoke and not set off his detector. He returned to the couch.

  “I don’t know.” He sighed. He knew why, because he didn’t like seeing her in pain, but he didn’t want to admit he was so weak when it came to her, especially not to his brother. “I wish there was another way. I have to try and talk to her again,” Jayce said, watching the cigarette casing slowly turn to ash, crumbling as the red light burned bright. Jayce wished he could burn away his emotions and turn them to dust. Why must we take lifetimes to work through them? We mere humans are not fast learners, Jayce concluded.

  “Unless you tell her you know, she’s probably not going to tell you the truth. I mean, why would she? Think about it from her point of view; if the situation were reversed, would you tell her the truth if you thought she knew nothing about your past? Of course you wouldn’t and neither will she—she doesn’t want to sound like a nut-job. Let’s be honest here, it’s a pretty whacked-up situation the two of you are in.”

  “I know she’s not going to, not unless she’s forced to—if the guilt becomes so debilitating she’ll have no choice but to tell me. That woman has put me through hell and back and I shouldn’t have to ask her to stop lying to me and to apologize for the past. She has to do that on her own.”

  Kyoji whistled. “I don’t know, if you push her too hard you might push her away. And maybe you don’t have to ask her, maybe just give her a safe space to talk about it and she might open up.”

  Jayce looked at Kyoji in disbelief. “Okay, Dr. Phil. Fucking hell, you’ve been watching way too much daytime television.”

  “Hey, I’m just trying to be a good brother and talk it through with you. To be honest, I actually don’t give a fuck about this girl and I’m not convinced you’re not both a bit crazy.” Kyoji laughed upon reflecting Jayce’s words. “Dr. Phil… that’s good. No one has ever called me that before.”

  Jayce didn’t bother to respond. They sat quietly for a moment and something occurred to Jayce that he had surprisingly failed to give thought to previously. “Do you not believe in reincarnation, Kyoji?”

  Kyoji’s lips turned down at the corners as he considered it. “I believe in reincarnation, I suppose, but do I believe in this karma system you talk about and balancing debts? I don’t know. I have done some bad things, Jayce, but I’m not being punished for them, in fact I’m living a great life and I don’t have a single complaint. If karma exists, how is it that bad things happen to good people? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  “Just because everything is good right now doesn’t mean that it is going to continue on that way. Your life might change course so suddenly that you’ve changed highways and are heading in the wrong direction before you’ve even realized it. And maybe not even in this lifetime. Maybe, like Zahra, it will come back to haunt you many years later. Bad things happen to good people because they are making up for their past mistakes.”

  “I don’t know if I agree with that. If you ruin Zahra’s life now, aren’t you just as bad as she is? Do two wrongs make a right? And I don’t think this universe, or God, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, is a punishment system. I think things just happen and it’s our job to roll with it and do the best we can. Nothing that happens is good or evil, it’s just a challenge to overcome. Even death is not punishment, not if reincarnation exists, because we never really die but are reborn with another chance at life. But honestly, I really don’t give it much more thought than that… if I really believed in karma do you think I’d do even half of the things I do? Fuck no, I’ve committed more serious crimes than Heffner has had playmates. God would think I’m the devil reincarnated.”

  Jayce laughed, not entirely convinced that wasn’t true, and he was just glad that the devil was on his side in this lifetime.

  “Anyway, when I do get to meet her?”

  Jayce grinned, his eyes coming alive. “Soon. Just remember, she’s not my girlfriend at work.”

  A hooting laugh erupted from Kyoji’s chest. “That’s the biggest joke of all… I don’t know how you two have managed to pull that off.”

  Jayce himself was surprised that no one had figured it out yet either. Obviously Jemma knew, and Olivia probably suspected, but otherwise it was their secret, which made it all the more fun. Jayce excused himself and went to the kitchen. He opened a bottle of wine and then raided the refrigerator, but he was fresh out of luck—Kyoji had eaten the last of the leftovers. He took the wine and two glasses back to the couch.

  “Have you thought if there might be another reason she’s lying to you?” Kyoji pressed his lips together, hiding his smile.

  “Like what?” Jayce poured the wine.

  “Maybe she doesn’t feel guilty at all, maybe she’s got a plan all of her own. She fooled you once and maybe she’s back to get you again.” Kyoji laughed. “Come on, you’ve got to admit it’s a possibility. If I were you, I’d be sleeping with a knife under my pillow. Actually, I probably would’ve killed her when I first recognized who she was, but that’s where you and I are different. I should definitely get you some protection, though.”

  Jayce had thought about that but he’d ruled it out; Zahra wasn’t capable of hurting anyone and she wasn’t fooling him again—Dryas had been blindsided by love but with Zahra, Jayce’s eyes were wide open and he was positive that her lies were driven from guilt and shame.

  “Trust me, her days of slicing necks are over.” Jayce’s stomach grumbled and the wine on an empty stomach made him lightheaded. “I don’t need protection but what I do need is some food, seeing as you ate my dinner.”

  “Good. I’m hungry again, too, and then I would like some pussy for dessert.”

  “Of course you would.”

  *

  It was well into the evening when Jayce and Kyoji left the apartment, but that didn’t matter to either of them—Jayce slept very little and Kyoji’s day started at noon and finished somewhere near sunrise. They walked side-by-side, headed to watch a suspension show at a Chelsea theater. Kyoji, always one to push the boundaries, had a new in
terest that fascinated Jayce, but of which he had no immediate interest in trying himself. Regardless, Kyoji had promised a night of beautiful girls in lingerie, so there was not a single reason to protest.

  The theater was at full capacity when they arrived, but a table had been reserved for them front and center. The crowd was a mix of people from all walks of life and they all seemed eager for the show to begin.

  After ordering dinner and a few drinks, Jayce pulled out the new pack of cigarettes they had bought on the way to the theater.

  “So, tell me more about what’s happening here tonight,” Jayce said, holding a glass of whiskey in his hands.

  “They temporarily pierce the skin with large hooks, usually two or four in the back is the standard position. And then they use a suspension system to lift the person up, hanging by their skin.”

  Jayce took another large swig of his drink. “It sounds brutal. Why would you want to do this?”

  Kyoji smiled. “Firstly, I just want to see what it’s like, if I can actually put my mind and body through it. Secondly, it’s actually supposed to be quite a sacred, spiritual practice. They say your mind becomes quiet, that it’s a cathartic release of sorts. It has to hurt, but sometimes with pain comes great clarity and oneness, right? You want to do it with someone who is experienced in it, obviously, but it’s a ritual that people have subjected themselves to for over five thousand years—there must be something very special that happens to the mind for the practice to have survived that long and continue today. In fact, I dare say it’s growing in popularity.”

  It was the first time Jayce had heard about it so he wasn’t sure how correct that assumption was, but he knew one thing: taking over companies and exponentially growing their profits was his spiritual practice. He wasn’t going to hang by his skin in the foreseeable future.

  The lights dimmed, casting the theater into a shadowy darkness. A single beam of light struck upon a black-haired woman on the stage. She sat in a chair, her back to the audience, her curled locks pinned up to expose her taught skin concealed by nothing but a lace bra, suspender belt and panties. She had not moved an inch, but she had hypnotized everyone in the room.

  “Dance for me baby,” Kyoji chimed and Jayce chuckled quietly, not wanting to attract any attention.

  And dance she did, but it wasn’t until she turned to face the crowd, looking straight down at the table where the two brothers sat, that Jayce’s stomach dropped: she looked just like Raven. How was this possible? He looked around the room, suddenly thinking he might be in one of those dreams where you’re awake enough to know it’s a dream but not awake enough to actually open your eyes and end it. But this wasn’t a dream. He needed a distraction—he lit another cigarette. If Raven, and the girl on stage, had been born in the same lifetime, he would have sworn they were twins. Was this a sign, and if so what did it mean? He tilted his head, watching her intensely now. His skin tingled, his nerves firing off little electric impulses, a cold shrillness settling over him. He wanted to look away, he wanted to leave, but his body wouldn’t let him. Instead, he watched on: an indweller in the clutches of the black-haired beauty.

  “Here we go,” Kyoji said as he leaned forward.

  The ropes were secured onto the metal hooks in her back and Jayce thought the hooks looked like small metal wings; fitting for a raven. As she was lifted up, her skin pulled and her feet floated off the ground. Jayce’s body cringed at the sight in front of him and yet the girl didn’t show any signs of pain. She twirled in circles, swinging her legs back and forth, spellbinding everyone in the theater. Soon after, five other women joined her: impish angels flying high, smiling and teasing those below.

  The performance only further reinforced Kyoji’s desire to be suspended and he did his best to encourage Jayce too.

  “Uh-uh, it’s not my thing. You couldn’t pay me enough to do that. Work is my therapy, and I don’t need anything else.”

  “We’ll see,” Kyoji said, his lips turning up at the corner, red-lighting his smug, esoteric attitude.

  Jayce ignored him and lit up his final cigarette for the night. It was time for bed.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN - ZAHRA

  Her mind was a vortex of tormented thoughts. Zahra was reading the book recommended to her by Dr. Moore. It featured a prominent psychiatrist and a patient who suffered from severe anxiety and repeated nightmares, whom he cured using past-life therapy. Dr. Moore had recommended it to Zahra to help her, but instead it filled her with dread. There was a lot of mention of karmic debt and how souls evolve by paying their debts, and Zahra shuddered to think of how many debts she had to pay—the number must be in the hundreds and that was just from Raven’s lifetime. And if the debts weren’t paid out, and they are taken into another life, how many lives had she lived since her assassin days? Zahra put the book down, physically and mentally unable to turn another page. “I’m so fucked,” Zahra whispered. She may have been the messenger, as Raven had so innocently put it, but she had murdered countless people. And she had singularly enjoyed it. Had she repaid any of her debts? And most importantly: what had Raven done to Dryas and what did she now owe Jayce?

  Zahra rubbed her eyes; she had barely slept since Saturday night and unless she found a way to shut her mind off, she doubted she was going to get much sleep tonight either. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the painting that hung above Jayce’s bed. Why would he have a painting of a raven? Was that a coincidence or was it something more? Zahra was beginning to believe nothing in life was a coincidence and that everything happened for a reason. But, the concept that Jayce and Zahra were reunited again in this lifetime, for whatever reason that was, seemed somewhat self-aggrandizing. They were just two small souls in an entire universe; were their unfinished issues so significant that life had organized itself to bring them back together? The more Zahra thought it through, the more impossible it seemed but here they were, together again—and one of them, for sure, knew their past. After seeing that painting of the raven, though, Zahra had to wonder if Jayce knew more than he was letting on. But how would he know? He didn’t appear to suffer from nightmares, he barely even slept. Were there other ways to access suppressed memories? Zahra didn’t know and she hadn’t come across any during her research. She sighed and her head ached; it was tired of the never-ending stream of questions.

  Closing her eyes again, Zahra willed her mind to slow down. She had three hours until she had to get up for work and no amount of concealer was going to fix the shadows under her eyes if she didn’t get some sleep.

  *

  She was late. Once she had managed to fall asleep, even her alarm hadn’t been able to wake her. She was meeting Jackson and Devon for an additional running session and she had hit snooze one too many times.

  “I’m sorry!”

  Jackson flashed his million-dollar smile. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s all good. I’ll give you my number, though, in case you need it in the future.”

  Zahra handed him her phone and he typed it in and then she gave him hers. With number swapping complete, they began their run. This is better than therapy, she thought as their feet pounded the pavement. Running kept her sane and it also resulted in a slim, toned body—it was a win-win situation as far as she was concerned.

  Jackson set a faster but still manageable pace this morning: one that tired her legs but didn’t altogether deplete her body. She ran with her back straight, her arms at her waist and her eyes forward and down. She concentrated on technique and posture, putting one foot in front of the other—it was always the same. Devon ran with music blaring from earphones so loudly that Zahra could hear it next to her, and Jackson ran with earphones in but his music was at an inaudible volume. Zahra typically ran without music, at least until the last few miles. She liked to listen to city yawning; the slow murmurs of traffic and voices talking as it awoke. And she liked to save the music for the hardest part, when there was nothing left but the pure determination in her
mind; long-distance running was a mind game—one that she’d mastered many months ago.

  “Half way. How are we doing?” Jackson looked at them and when they both nodded, he said, “Good.” Jackson continued on at pace for a few more miles before he picked it up, running a little faster, pushing the limit a little harder. Zahra turned on her music now: it was time to focus. She kept pace, but by the time they arrived back at Mason she was cursing Jackson Coby under her breath and she was sure Devon was too.

  Zahra had stripped down to a crop top and three-quarter-length compression tights. Sweat dripped off her tired body and she leaned over, letting her fingertips dangle by her ankles, giving her calves a good stretch.

  “Good morning,” Jayce said from behind her.

  Zahra bolted upright. “Uh, good morning,” she said.

  “How is the team training going?” Jayce asked, looking at Jackson.

  “Not too badly. These two are my star runners, the others have a bit more work to do,” Jackson said, chuckling.

  “How many are on this Mason running team?” Jayce asked.

  “Supposedly eleven, but a few have already dropped out,” Devon answered.

  Jayce chuckled. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Have a good day.”

  *

  11057

  “Good morning, again,” Zahra answered.

  “Please tell me why there are eleven in your running group and only three of you running this morning? That’s a very poor attendance rate, wouldn’t you say?” Jayce asked.

  “Devon and I have missed a couple, because we have been working so hard, so Jackson was kind enough to give us an additional training session.” Zahra smiled, waiting for his response.

  Jayce scoffed. “Kind enough, huh? That’s one way of looking at it.”