Chapter 8 #2
I would have waited longer if I needed to.
“We have to talk about a plan.” Romina carries on like nothing. “I have something to share with you.”
I look away, clenching my fists at my sides.
She upholds strict standards in all aspects. She oversees multiple teams operating globally. However, she is unwavering when it comes to her home, where her granddaughter lives. Winona’s safety is paramount; it takes precedence over everyone else’s, including her own.
If I want to be with Winona, I have to persuade Romina that I’m worth being by her side. She knows that I am. Why can’t she give us a chance to prove that we’re right for each other? No matter how in love I am, I will never let my guard down.
“Do you know what I really want to tell him?” Winona’s voice snaps me back.
Now, she’s lying on the couch, her eyelids fighting to stay open.
Her voice is soft. Sleepy. “He always wore a steel expression to hide his internal scars, but that never fooled me. I was waiting for you to open up, even when you buried your pain so far down that it was caged inside you. I never heard your story. Not really. It’s a significant piece that could’ve helped me understand you better.
Not because it defines you, but because knowing you from the inside out means I am part of you.
Every inch of you. I would’ve embraced your demons, but you never gave me that chance.
Our love was everything, yet you kept me out of harm’s way when I needed to feel that pain with you. I was always waiting for you.”
Death has almost slapped me in the face dozens of times, yet she takes me down so easily with just one strike.
“I hate you for showing me love in its pure form. But I love you so much more that I don’t ever want to get over you.” She loses her grip on the radio. It slides down her folded arm as her eyes shut.
Through glossy eyes, I trace every inch of her.
Something deep inside me longs to hear her voice again because I can’t get enough of her.
“Hey, wake up,” I call.
I keep trying for several minutes with no luck. Just as I’m about to call it a night, she jerks awake, still drowsy.
“What’s the name of the circus you lived in?”
“You already know. I saw your notes when I went through your bag. What are they?” I stub out my second cigarette in the ashtray on the table and return to the railings.
“A source of information.”
“They sound strange.”
“Tell me about it.” She issues a low chuckle. “If you don’t want to discuss it, I’ll understand. Can you tell me more about what happened afterward?”
I clear my voice. “I wasn’t there for five years, and when I returned, someone told me that my mom had overdosed that day, and half of the circus burned, including the owner. Carnage Trolls was officially closed after.”
“By someone, you mean my grandma?”
I slowly nod. “Yes.”
She hums, “Interesting.”
“I think it’s time to head inside and close the door,” I say while she rolls to the side. “Come on. Don’t make me use my firearms to get you inside.”
She grunts. “Are you going to shoot me if I don’t?”
“No. I’ll give you a little push.” I laugh as I catch her adorable smile widening.
She lifts herself off the couch, gathers her things, and pulls herself through the door. “Happy?”
“Ecstatic.”
“Good night, spirit crusher.”
“Lights out, Little Demon.”
She turns off the lights and slips into bed. Her gentle breaths surround me as I recall the times she dozed off on my chest. Sound asleep. Trusting me with her life and entrusting her precious heart to me.
She showed me what it’s like to be loved.
Unconditionally.
To the point of no return.
I linger for a moment, scanning the area until I spot something moving in the shadows, approaching her tower. It’s pitch black out there, and my night vision gear is in the basement.
I grab the binoculars from the table and zoom in on it.
If that’s the bear, I don’t want to hurt him.
The dark figure moves through the garden, and the faint, silvery glow of the moon illuminates him.
I pick up the rifle from the table and place it over the top rail. My finger curls around the trigger, ready to wreak havoc if necessary.
“Winona, there’s someone outside your tower,” I say to the radio, my voice steady.
Please, get up.
I will run like a fucking maniac to tackle this clown if I have to.
I aim at the ground near where I shot the snake earlier today and pull the trigger.
The gunshot echoes between our towers.
My eyes snap to the zipline crossing between our balconies. She has the gear to cross it if she agrees. I know that will be an impossible task. I glance at the equipment I left on the floor near the table.
I need to stall him a little longer.
These are safe towers that nobody knows about unless... someone must have followed us from home. Now, if I have to guess... two of them are dead and the third one went off the grid.
I fire again.
Come on. I clench my teeth together.
I check on Winona upstairs, hoping she has woken up from the noise.
There’s no movement inside.
Lightning flashes brightly, illuminating the forest for a brief moment. The figure stands beside the outer wall, wearing a black robe with the hood pulled up and a knife at his side. I fire again as he slips behind the wall and starts banging on the door.
“Open the fucking door!” he yells. The echo carries it to me.
I recognize that voice. Dark. Disturbed. Unhinged.
I crack my neck from side to side until the muscles pop.
She doesn’t need this right now.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you.” He raises his voice even more, hiding behind the tower as I shoot.
Every fear I’ve ever known crumbles and dissolves within me, transforming into a weapon of rage that courses through my veins.
That fucker.
With fire in my eyes and my pounding heart, I stare sightlessly into the darkness encircling her tower, feeling anger, mortifying guilt, and a terrible ache.
Violent thunder crashes in the distance, vocalizing what I feel inside.
Haven’t I paid enough?
They took away everything from me.
Not her again.
I start shooting on auto, the gunfire tearing through the silent night.
“Let me in,” he singsongs as I reload a new magazine. Just as I’m about to start round two, the radio crackles, and her voice comes through.
“Jason, who the fuck is that lunatic?”
An old problem.
A parasite.
Unfortunately, I know a lot of those.
I can’t tell her who it is. All she needs to know is, “kill him no matter what.”
“I swear, if you sent someone to kill me, I’m gonna make your life a nightmare,” she says in a clipped tone.
My life is already a nightmare.
“I know I look small, maybe fragile, but I will break you. I will tear you limb from limb with every available weapon at my grasp.”
Goddammit.
“I didn’t,” I mirror her tone, my finger itching to pull the trigger again, and hearing the bullet lodge in his head. “I could’ve killed you myself dozens of times by now, and I haven’t.”
“Maybe it’s only a matter of time.”
I clear my throat. “You know what, don’t believe me, but we have a problem, and he needs to die. We need a plan. So, I will cross to your side and kill him. You stay inside.”
“If you come here, I’ll shoot you.”
Shoot me now.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I don’t know you or him. For all I know, you work together,” she spews, and I can’t say I’m not proud of her for analyzing every detail from every angle.
I’ll take that bullet right now to save her.
I lick my dry lips as our problem continues to slam on the door and curse. “I did tell you things about myself, haven’t I earned just a little trust? I’m working with your grandma.” I know my Winona. She’s tough, a force all on her own.
“I don’t trust anyone.”
Of course.
Even though I don’t have a clear shot or her approval, I like that she doesn’t bend easily.
“You can cross to my tower,” I suggest.
“No, thank you,” she snorts, “I’m not falling for that.”
“Come on, you’ve never killed before,” I try to reason with her because taking a life, even one that belongs to the devil, changes a person.
It brings guilt, pain, and regret. But if we turn that coin over, some people experience thrill, satisfaction, and enjoyment.
We all play the same game; we’re just different players, playing for different reasons.
And that motherfucker is here for the thrill.
“How do you know that?” she asks.
“An educated guess.”
“You’re so full of sh—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I shout.
“I’ll take care of the problem myself. If you have a clear shot, shoot him,“ she says, opening the door to the balcony enough to go through it. “Prove to me that I can trust you.”
My chest heaves quickly, a deep rumble resonating within.