He hugged me tight. “Really? I would have thought you wanted your canned soup over there.”
I ignored him and stood. “Be right back.” I made a dash down the hall and came back with the game, Four in a Row.
I sat back in his lap and picked up a slice, the cheese sliding off the side just the way I liked. I threw it in my mouth. “Hmmm. Good stuff.”
He bit into his own piece. “Are we really ready to play Connect Four?”
I set the game up, giving him red chips and me black. “It’s called Four in a Row.”
“A rose by any other name.”
“Oh, shut up.” I grabbed him by the face and kissed him hard, his lips tasted like pizza sauce and garlic, and so I kissed him again wanting to get more of it.
He kissed me on my neck. “You trying to have your wicked way with me?”
I dropped the first game chip into the slot. “Nope, just trying to distract you so that I can win the game.”
He pulled me closer, at the same time dropping one of his red ones in. “Two can play that game.”
Turned out to be the best round of “Connect Four” I’d ever played.
I Was Asked to Kill Him
1
He wanted me to shoot him. I looked at Greg and wondered if he’d hit his head. “You what?”
He placed the gun in my hand and pointed at his chest. “Straight through the heart.” He said it as if we were discussing a day at the beach.
He stood about six feet tall and had blonde hair that he usually kept tucked behind his ears. It was out of place now, and my fingers tingled wanting to put it back in its proper spot, anything to avoid discussing this nonsense. “I’m not shooting you.” I tried to give the gun back, but he turned on his heels and walked out of the room.
I watched him go, then closed my mouth around a sigh. That was weird. No other word for it. I looked at the cold metal in my hand and wondered how things had turned south so fast. We’d just eaten a nice dinner, and instead of dessert, he’d decided to top it off with this shit.
Still shaking my head, I poured two cups of coffee and took one in to him. He looked up at me and smiled. “Thanks, babe.” He pulled me onto his lap, his hand tight around my waist. The coffee sloshed to the side, but since it was mostly made of water I managed to pull it back and keep it in the cup.
That was the only thing I had going for me, controlling, changing, and refiguring water. It was all I knew how to do. My sister, Lena, was telepathic and she had the power of telekinesis.
We were close, and unlike the kids at school, she’d never tried to make me feel bad about only having one power, or having a dumb useless one that no one else had or even wanted.
That was a long time ago. I’d grown up a lot since then and though I’d never learned to love my power, I had come to own it. It was a part of who I was and there was nothing I could do to change that.
It wasn’t long after I’d come to truly accept myself that I met Greg. Right now, we were three years going strong and I couldn’t be happier. Not that we hadn’t had our problems in the past, his wandering cock being one of them. I shook my head at that thought. That all was behind us now. I snuggled more into his arms. No more problems. I’d be willing to put our love up against anyone or anything.
He kissed me behind my ear. “Do this for me, babe.” Do what? Shoot him? I put my coffee to the side and sat up. “What the hell is wrong with you? I’m not going to shoot you and if you keep talking like that, I’m going to call someone to take you off to the looney bin.” I was only halfway kidding.
His grip on me tightened, and he rubbed his head into the side of my neck, giving my shoulder a few quick kisses to help drive his point home. “I need this, Delia, please, babe. Please.”
I gasped out loud, couldn’t help it. He’d said, please. A word I’d never expected to hear spill from his lips. He’d never said it before. Well, he’d never said it in my presence anyway, and certainly never to me directly.
I laughed unbelievably, probably because I’d convinced myself that he didn’t even know the meaning of the word. That laughter was quickly cut off when I realized what it meant that he was saying it now.
Assisted suicide, that’s what it really came down to. Instead of dismissing it, I needed to ask myself why he was asking in the first place. I cradled his face in my hand and then kissed him softly on the forehead. “We’re going to get you some help, okay. I don’t think you’re well.”
He chuckled in a way that said I just didn’t get it. “Delia, babe, listen.” He removed my hands from his face but didn’t let them go. His eyes held a seriousness that I rarely saw there, and though his next words were comical, his voice was hard and stern. “I am immortal. I can’t be killed. If you shoot me through the heart I will rise again.”
I wanted to hit him. I really did, for wasting my time, and for scaring the shit out of me. At the same time, I was relieved nothing serious was going on and we could get on with our night.
His next words dashed any hope I’d had for a good and easy evening. “I’m not joking.”
He wasn’t joking and I’d had enough. I tried to detangle myself from him, but he held on tighter, unwilling to set me free. This only pissed me off more because, really? “Let me go, Greg. I’m not playing.”
He reluctantly released me and I stood, staring down at his hard, unblinking eyes. “I’m going to bed.” I truly didn’t give a damn what he did at this point.
He stopped me before I was halfway down the hall. “If you don’t do it, then you’ll never see me again.”
I turned back around. “Well, if I do, you'll be dead so...”
His face stayed cold and hard. I took a step back as reality set in. He was really serious. He actually wanted me to kill him. I pulled my phone out. No more talking. He needed help.
Greg shook his head. “Sure you want to do that?”
“You’re not giving me much of a choice.” It took everything in me to keep from outright shouting, but I did raise my voice a couple of levels. Silently chastising myself, I took a deep breath and tried to regain control of my emotions. “What would you have me do, Greg? You’re not making much sense.”
His face softened. “I need this, Delia. I really want to share it with you.”
My frustration reached its breaking point. “Share what!? You’re not making any sense!”
Tears flowed freely from his eyes now. He got up and came to stand in front of me, lovingly touching my face. “Baby, please.”
I felt as if I was caught up in a sadistic nightmare and would awaken at any moment to see that everything was normal and my boyfriend didn’t want to end his life.
He didn’t even try to wipe his eyes. “I am immortal. I can’t be killed. Shoot me through the heart and I will rise again.” He put his hand under my chin and raised it until we were eye to eye.
I wiped his tears away. All the years we’d been together and I’d never seen him cry. Not once. My phone weighed heavy in my hand. I had to make that call and it gutted me to my core. I loved this man, but he wasn’t well and I had no idea how to help him.
He wrapped his arm around me and pulled me closer. “This will open up a whole new life for us. I can take you home now. Let you meet my family. Our love can grow. We can get married and everything. Please let me show you what I can do.” He seemed so sincere.
By now I was crying too. I lay my head on his shoulder. “We’re going to get you some help,” I whispered.
He eased me off him and held my face in his hands. His eyes flashed blue and everything in me came to a standstill. Something was wrong. Images of us together, married, with kids, flashed through my head. I tried to move, but my feet stayed glued to the spot. I tried to cry out, but the words froze in my throat.
Greg was talking, but my head was so fuzzy, I couldn’t make out a word he said. His voice moved at a rapid fire pace, and I wondered if he was even trying to make sense. The language sounded foreign and I was sure I’d never heard h
im speak it before.
I tried to move again, but to no avail. Everything felt murky and wrong. He was doing something to me, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
Images of me shooting him and then us living happily ever after plagued me. I had to break out of this haze. I didn’t want this, didn’t want to do this. Something had a strong and I… couldn’t… I… couldn’t break free.
I picked up the gun and fondled it.
His eyes flashed again and suddenly everything became clear. I had to do it. I had to shoot him. It was the only way. If I didn’t, then he would die anyway. Only he wouldn’t come back to life. I needed him to come back. I had to do it.
My voice spoke almost on its own. “How long will it take you to come back?” Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was screaming, but for some reason I couldn’t seem to get through to that part of myself.
Greg got a huge smile on his face and his speech became a little more excited. “It depends. Sometimes it only takes moments and sometimes it can take over two hours. Just be patient and know that I’m coming back to you.”
He was coming back to me. All I had to do was shoot him and everything would be okay. Shoot him, he’d come back, and everything would be fine. I only needed to pull the trigger.
Greg had to be killed, that was the only way. I nodded my head. I’d do it. I had to do it. I didn’t have a choice. I nodded again, letting him know that I was with him. I would do this for him, for us.
His eyes lit up again and he pulled me closer, giving me a sweet kiss on the lips. “Do it,” he said, his mouth soft against my own.
Sweat dripped from my brow. I had to do this. That was the one thing I could see. I had to shoot Greg. I didn’t really have a choice.
My hand shook so bad that I had to take a second to compose myself. I pointed the gun at him. It was the only way to save him. The only way for us to be together. I had to save his life. I had to shoot him and then we would be so, so happy.
His eyes took on a wild look, light blazing out of them and straight into my pupils. “Through the heart,” he said, reminding me.
I nodded. This was the only way because Greg said so, and of course, Greg was right. I pulled the trigger six times. There. It was done.
Greg crumbled to the floor and blood pooled around him. I was so excited as I stood there waiting for his return, that I almost jumped up in down with glee.
My eyes felt glazed, as I started to plan for our future. I wanted to go to his hometown and meet his family. I wondered what color our wedding would be. After three years of waiting, I’d say it was about time.
Blood flowed around my shoes, but I couldn’t care less. I almost felt like falling to the ground and covering myself in it. I thought about what I would say when I met his parents, his sisters, and brothers. I thought of us starting a family together. Unfortunately, it only took a minute for it all to come crashing down.
Someone must have heard the shots and called the cops because they only knocked once before rushing through the door. I must have looked insane. I was standing over his body, smiling, and plotting like an idiot.
“Drop the gun!” I heard one of them shout. I was startled more than anything else, but I slowly placed it on the floor. As soon as I did, they surrounded me. They put me in cuffs first and then started to ask me questions.
I was still smiling, ready for him to come back to life. I couldn’t wait to see the look on their faces when they realized they had to let me go.
I looked around the room. There were eight of them. “He’s not dead. Wait one minute and he’ll come back to life,” I tried to explain.
“What happened here, ma’am?” one of them asked me.
I looked at Greg’s body, willing him to wake up, but in the back of my mind, I knew it could be two hours before that happened.
“Did you shoot him?” A different cop asked me.
I felt like kicking Greg until he woke up. I figured I might as well be honest with them. They’d see for themselves in a moment anyway. “He’s not dead,” I said to the skeptical cops. “He’s immortal. He can’t be killed. Wait one minute. He’ll be back again.”
“Get her out of here,” I heard a new voice say. He had on plain clothes and looked to be around thirty. Tall with red hair and bright green eyes, he turned so that he could address me directly. “My name is Detective Leon Kravis, and I’ll be talking with you shortly.” He put on a pair of gloves and then used his telekinesis to float the gun to his outstretched hand and bag it.
The cop who’d been holding me tried to lead me away. “Uh-uh!” I screamed, my heart beating so fast, I thought it'd jump out of my chest. I had to make them understand. “He’s immortal! He will come back to life. Wait and see.” By now I was frantic. If he’d only breathe again everything would be all right. He didn’t though, and they wouldn’t listen. Instead, they led me away.
2
They buried him while I was still in jail. I still believed he was coming back. I hated the thought of him being underground, all closed up, unable to breathe. There was a trial. They found me mentally incompetent. Let them tell it, I didn’t know what I was doing. They wouldn’t listen. Even after I told them, I knew exactly what I was doing. He was immortal and he couldn’t be killed.
Instead of jail, it was the sanatorium. I spent five years in a place where fear and unpredictability ate away at your soul until there was almost nothing left. Five years. That's how long it took me to realize I was wrong. I’d killed him.
He’d used his powers of persuasion on me and I’d had no defense against him. I didn’t know why he’d wanted to die or why he’d wanted me to do it, and I accepted the fact that I would never know.
Once free, I tried to rebuild my life, to forget about Greg. He’d hung me out to dry. He had to have known I would go to jail for his murder and he hadn’t cared. Why involve me at all? That’s what I just didn’t understand. Why had he needed me to be the one to pull that trigger?
I’d been out three months when I saw him again. I was at the mall doing a little shopping and just enjoying being able to come and go as I pleased. No one telling me when to eat, when to sleep. I could walk where I wanted, and talk to whomever I pleased.
He spotted me before I spotted him. He was with a woman and three small children. He smiled at me, walked right up looking happier than I’d ever seen him. “Delia, hi, gosh, it’s been a couple of years since we last saw each other. I think you’ve met my wife, Amber. So, these are our kids: Mitzy here is four, she’s the oldest. Little Greg junior is three, and our baby Catharine is two.”
Boy was he gushing with enthusiasm, moving his hands around all excitedly and acting as if we were simply two old friends showing off baby pictures and reminiscing about the good times. “Didn’t you get married too? You have a little girl, right?” he went on.
I might would have said something, might would have answered one of his questions, if only I could breathe. If only I could make my brain work. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t connect the dots. How had he come back? When had he come back to life? What the hell was he babbling about?
I tried to inhale. He thought I was sick. He reached over and tried to help me. I didn’t want him touching me.
I stepped back a few inches. “I’m fine, just trying to catch my breath. It’s still hard for me. It’s been five years. You know I just got out of the mental hospital about three months ago for killing you.”
He laughed and looked at his wife. She didn’t share his amusement. “Honey, you know she’s just picking with us. It was only three years ago that we saw her at the Christmas party the Jacks family had. She was with her husband then.”
His wife smiled as if she remembered this imaginary event. “We had a good time that night. How is your husband, Delia? He’s a contractor, right?”
These people were crazy, or maybe I was crazy, or maybe this was all some sort of sick dream and I was still locked up in that place.
“Is this re
al?” I asked them.
Amber looked down at her fur coat and then back at me, surprise written all over her face.
This was too much. “I killed you,” I said looking at Greg. “I shot you through the heart six times.”
He and his wife shared a worried glance and then he reached for his phone. “What’s your husband’s number? I think it may be a good idea to give him a call.”
Rage bubbled in me like a volcano. I looked around the mall at the mountain of shoppers happily chattering on their phones and talking back and forth to the people beside them. They had no idea that my world was slowly falling apart and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn't want a scene, to lose control, and have everyone call me crazy again.
Taking a few calming breaths, I turned back to Greg and his wife. “I don’t have a husband. I’ve never been married. I don’t have kids.” I resisted the urge to add, ‘I wanted all those things with you. Thought I’d have all those things with you.’ Because as much as I may have wanted them before, I didn’t want them now.
What I wanted was some clarity. What I needed was someone who remembered as I remembered. I walked over to a bench and sat down. They followed me.
Amber grabbed Greg’s hand. “Is there anyone we can call for you?” she asked me.
I held up one finger and pulled out my newly acquired cell phone. I’d only had it about two weeks. At the time, I’d thought it a splurge but now I was glad I’d made the decision to buy it. I called Detective Leon Kravis.
He'd come to see me when I’d gotten out, gave me his card and, told me to call him if I needed anything.
Well, now I needed something. As soon as he answered, I told him I was having another episode, and he needed to come quickly.
“Was that your husband? Would you like us to wait until he gets here?” Greg asked.
I put my phone back in my pocket and tried to make my voice speak above a whisper. “That was a friend. I think he may be the only one who can help me. He said he’d be here in about ten minutes.”
A Magical Reckoning: Magic and Mischief Book 1 Page 6
