Page 53 of Secondhand Soul

“It was not a real relationship. If he was busy, he’d totally tell one of his underlings they could ‘use me’ for the weekend. It was weird. But if he was around, I was his, and I was supposed to put up with anything and everything he wanted in return for a big wad of cash and some pretty gifts. I got pregnant. It was definitely Frank’s. I was definitely keeping it. Her.”

I breathe in deep, remembering the sudden elation that I felt when I found out I was expecting. When I heard the heartbeat. “You know what I said about goals? She was my goal. I was going to get out. I was going to be an amazing single mother. We would work our asses off, but I would love her, and give her all of my time and my energy, and...”

Manny lets out a noise that sounds like a bear yawning, startling me.

The big green monster is wiping his eyes. “Oh, no! No...” he whimpers. “I know what’s coming. I just hate this part.”

Rhea pats his arm.

“Frank wanted me. I had morning sickness. Bad. He hit me while I was standing near the top of the stairs. I fell down. Broke my ankle. Lost my daughter. I know it was a girl, even though they never told me. I just know.”

“I believe you,” Rhea whispers, nodding.

“I was not okay. I think, looking back, that I might have entered some kind of altered state. My mom came and took care of me for a bit, but then she went back to her own life. I realized I wanted it that way—because I was going to do something dangerous. Stupid. I decided to kill Frank Bocella. He came back a few months after the ‘incident’ and wanted to apologize and start over. I killed him.” I don’t describe how much I enjoyed it. “His associates found out. They came for me. I learned fast how to play them, how to use surprise against them, how to strike first... I’m good at waitressing and killing bad guys.”

“And you thought our Lazarus was a bad guy?” Rhea asks, cautious hope in her voice. “And then you realized that he isn’t?”

“Right. Um. With a few missing steps. I killed enough guys in Frank Bocella’s organization that a rival organization, run by another crime boss, or kingpin, whatever you’d like to call him, took notice. This was Pazcuso, Vince Pazcuso. He made Lazarus. I did a couple of jobs for him—taking out bad people. I felt like I was doing something good, oddly enough. These were men who had hurt me, or girls like me, or were selling drugs, guns, and trafficking humans.”

Manny and Rhea exchange a long glance. “I think that feeling is understandable, although there is this thing called jail.”

I give him a wan smile. “I know. I would go there. Expensive lawyers might get off any number of the men I put underground, even though I know what they’ve done, including murders. Some of the men I killed had killed federal agents, so they might have been eligible for the death penalty. But because a private citizen did it for much cheaper, I get to go to prison.”

Manny nods, eyes wide. “Ah.”

“You can say it’s all stupid rationalization if you want. I’m sure it is. I didn’t think for months. I didn’t feel. I was getting rid of wicked men. I was making money. I was paying off my hospital bills and helping other girls leave the circle I had been in. I didn’t feel like a bad person or a good person. I didn’t feel like a person at all. Just a weapon. I wasn’t worried about living or dying, just existing.”

“I think Lazarus can relate to those kinds of feelings,” Rhea murmurs.

I nod and swallow down the pain of realizing that I found someone like me. Someone who felt right so fast, in all the right and wrong ways.

Is that what a soulmate is? He keeps saying he doesn’t have one, and mine is probably shredded to hell.

I take a long sip of coffee. “Speaking of Lazarus, Pazcuso, he showed me a video of Lazarus’ ‘escape.’ Do you know how he got free?”

Rhea is quick to forestall any retelling. “We know what he’s shared, and we don’t need to know more. We know it was bad, and he got out.”

“It was bad. It made him look bad, too. I believed I was being sent to take out the worst of the worst. Something inhuman and demonic, something that would kill on command, like a living robot.”

“Those bastards. Those horrible, evil, sick, twisted pieces of—” Manny has to abandon the table, rising and stalking around it while wringing his hands.

“It took a long time to figure out where he was. I don’t know how they did it, exactly, or why they didn’t send someone else. Maybe I’m most expendable. But I came. I was stalking up to his crypt. I was going to... You don’t need to know that part.”

“We get the idea,” Rhea says, her voice frigid.

“But fate, or God, or the good fairies hanging out around this nice little paranormal-friendly town of Pine Ridge intervened. I’m usually careful and methodical, and I’m not known for making stupid mistakes in this particular area. Well, forgetting that my entire adult life seems to be full of mistakes.” I hurry past that ugly realization. “I fell in an open grave. My phone was pinned under me, and I couldn’t get it. Who saves me? Lazarus. The hero. The good guy. He swept me into a life of Thanksgiving chaos, talking about the people he loved like parents, nursed me through migraines, bruised collarbones, and found me a place to live and a job with the nicest people.” The air collapses out of me, heavy and sad. “And I wasn’t planning to betray him, not once I realized that he wasn’t a killing machine. But so many things went wrong. I should have told him the truth.”

“But you thought that was dangerous? I don’t blame you,” Rhea sighs. “When you surround yourself with bad people, that does seem to become a problem—knowing who is safe, who to trust. I take it that when you did tell Lazarus, there was an altercation?”

I nod. “He didn’t hurt me. Can’t say the same about the apartment. He wants me gone by the time he gets here.”

“Gone? Go where? Back to those criminals?” Manny stops pacing to look at me in horror.

“Um. No. I’m not perfect, but being here, being away from the CrossRealms and California for a little while has made me realize what I want—and it’s not this. Not what I had. I mean, yes, I want this,” I gesture around me, “the sweet family, the nice apartment, the work environment that doesn’t involve death. Um. A good man. Who could understand my secrets.” I blink in delayed shock and look up at the faces studying me. “Oh, God. Uh. Did you already call the cops and I missed it, Manny?” I ask.

“Cops? No.”

Rhea’s face is tight. “I think what you did is a service to the world, but not something you can keep seeking out. If a threat enters Pine Ridge, then you have every right to protect yourself. You had a right to protect yourself and others in California, too, especially in a demon-infested area like the California CrossRealms. There are still things you could do to help stop the people in organized crime—especially if you are here, in this town, where people will protect you.”