Birch

“I don't remember anything else yet, all I have is what I wrote in my diary.” Swallowing hard, her words came out scratchy and soft. “Now it's your turn, what happened to me, how did I end up here like this?”

Her voice was a whisper as I stared at her hands. They were shaking, trembling with such force I half expected her fingers to break off. I had never seen them shaking like that before, and for some reason I couldn't take my eyes off them.

My head was a fucking mess. To imagine what it had been like for her to watch her parents get slaughtered, knowing that it was my father who had wielded the gun that destroyed her world. There would never be enough apologies I could ever give her that would validate his actions.

I could tell her I was sorry over and over again, I could grovel at her feet and promise her endless love and unbridled devotion, and that still wouldn't be enough. Nothing would ever be enough.

But I was willing to spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it. That's what I had to give her; my heart, my soul, my everything. She could have all of it if it would bring her a sliver of happiness.

“Birch?”

“What?” I asked, my attention totally drawn to the spastic muscles in her hands and rambling thoughts inside my head. I wasn't focused on her like I should have been.

“You said you'd give me answers, so answer me.”

How about I show you.

“Come on.” Standing up off the floor, I threw on my clothes as she watched me with questions in her gaze.

“What? Where are we going?”

“Get dressed.”

“Why aren't you answering me?” Pulling her shirt over her head, she slipped her long lean legs into her pants.

My eyes licked her calves and up her thighs. Her supple skin glistened in the soft light of the room, as her plump ass peeked out from beneath the curves of her hips. If we weren't knee deep in this horrible situation, I'd fuck her again.

All I wanted was to go back to us, to what we had before this rain of shit came toppling down. It was perfect, our life was great. I had a woman who would do anything for me, and I would do anything for her.

Now I felt like all of that was gone, and I feared we'd never get it back.

The truth. . . All she wants is the truth.

'She heard it from me. . .' my father's voice boomed in my ears as the weight of what he said clicked on the light.

It wasn't easy for me to explain it, to put it into words that would make sense. But if I showed her, if I took her back to that place, if I gave her more than just an explanation, maybe she'd get what she wanted all along; her own memories.

She had the first half, she was finally able to tear off a small sample and free it from its cage. There was more she needed, and finding it herself was all she ever really wanted. I wanted to help her with that, I wanted to give her back her past.

“Just come with me, I want to show you something.” Flapping my fingers, I tilted my head. “Please.”

Her eyes questioned me as they peered deep into my mind. She was trying to figure out what I was up to, just like she had so many other times over the years.

I felt like I was looking back into the eyes of that young girl, wary and unsure of what I was up to.

Hesitantly, she reached her fingers out, and I latched my hand around hers, helping her to her feet. “There's something you need to see.”

“What is it?”

“Something I owe you—something I should have shown you a long time ago.” Holding her hand in mine, it felt smaller than I remembered. Her fingers were thin and slender, twining like a vine around a branch.

Cyprus kept her head down, something she seemed to do a lot of lately. Before all of this, she walked tall, with her head held high. But now, now the black hole that circled her past was sucking her inside.

Her entire body showed the stress and strain of the lie she had finally discovered. And I hated it. I wanted her back, I wanted the woman I had fallen in love with back by my side. I was missing her more and more by the minute.

She was right there beside me and yet she felt so far away. Her touch was cold, her eyes lacked that signature twinkle I longed to see. Nothing was more important to me right then than getting her back, and I didn't care what I had to do to make that happen.

Leading her down the stairs, I stopped at the door that went into the basement. Turning to face her, I curled my arm around her back and brought her in to my chest. I searched her eyes before speaking, looking for signs that my Cyprus was still inside.

A shimmer, a spark, a small flicker of that light she used to carry, that was what I needed from her. I couldn't see it, I couldn't find her in the sadness that crusted her features.

Help her to heal. Make her believe in you.

“I meant what I said, I love you.” Running my thumb along her bottom lip, I traced the side of her cheek. “And if you decide that you hate me, if you think that you'll never be able to forgive me, I'll understand.”

“Birch—”

Pushing my finger to her lips, I silenced her. “No, right now, this is for you. After you know everything, once you see the whole picture, then you can tell me. But not until then.”

Releasing her waist, I clicked on the light and opened the door. It had been a long time since I went down those stairs, since I entered the room my father had ordered sealed for the rest of his natural born life.

He had given me strict orders to never talk about that room, to never open the vault that could rekindle her mind and destroy us forever. I did as I was told; I always did as I was told.

Each step creaked under our weight as plumes of dust exploded out with force, coiling around our legs as our heels disrupted the dormant granules.

“Why are we going in the basement?”

Stopping at the bottom, I pointed at the back wall. “We're here for that.”

“For what? It's just a wall.”

Tracing the seam I could still see in the paneling, I shook my head. “No, it's more than a wall, that's what he always wanted you to think.” Running my hands over the paneling, I felt around until I found the small notch in the crease.

Pressing in hard, I heard it creek and crack as I pulled the hidden door open. More dust blew out, causing both of us cough.

Waving away the thick cloud, Cyprus took a step forward, her face contorting in wonder. “What the hell is this?”

“This is what you need to see.” Hitting the small switch on the wall, a dim light popped on, exposing the tired, worn room.

It was exactly the same as it had been eight years ago. And in that single instant it felt like we had stepped back in time. I felt a flood of emotions rush through my system, all the same feelings I had experienced back then.

When my father came home that night, I was supposed to be in bed. There was a commotion downstairs with him and my mother. She was pissed, screaming at him in a way I had never heard her do before. Her voice penetrated my ears with a shrill tone, her rage building high notes that matched the sound of a train whistle.

Quietly, I made my way to the middle of the stairs so I could listen and not be seen. My father was begging her for forgiveness, he was pleading with her to calm down and let him speak. She wouldn't hear it. She kept telling him he needed to fix it, that he had to figure out something or she was taking me and leaving.

I had no idea what he had done, but I knew it had to be really bad for her to threaten him with his own family. I just couldn't have ever expected that his mishap had involved such an innocent person.

“You wanted me to answer your questions, I'm showing you instead.”

Cyprus walked to the back wall, kicking the thin sleeping bag bundled up on the floor. Her eyes were watering, and I knew she was trying her hardest not to cry. Sucking in a long breath of air, she turned to face me.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Pointing to the left, I stepped into the corner. “This is the corner I would sit in when I came down to see you. I told you it was my favorite corner, I gave you an answer that was a lie. I lied to you before I really knew you. I didn't like lying to you then, and I don't like lying to you now. I never liked it, Cyprus, not once was I ever happy about the shit I said.”

“This is the room. . .” Twisting her foot into the floor, she looked back down at the sleeping bag. “This was where I slept.”

“Yeah. Most of the time you laid it out against that wall. You never really talked to me much back then, a little bit here and there. I figured you liked that spot because you could see the door easier.”

“And the chair? Is this—”

“Yes,” I said, “That's the one my dad used to try and get you to listen to him.”

“You knew about that?”

“You were never really alone, regardless of what you thought. I was always close by, even if you didn't realize it, I was there. Outside the door or sitting by that window, with my ear to the glass. I always wanted to make sure I was here for you, and I hoped you could feel me even if you couldn't see me.”

Her mouth hung open as she digested everything around her. I could see her putting pin pricks in what her diary said and what she could visibly touch and see with her eyes. Her hands were shaking again, fingers buzzing as she softly ran them over the back of the chair.

“How did he do it? How did he erase my memories?”

Biting my lip, I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “I want you to remember. That's what you want right? To see it on your own?”

“Yeah, I do, but I can't wait for that anymore. I need to know, Birch, tell me how he did it.”

Sharp goosebumps zipped over my back, making my spine tingle nervously. I was about to say it, I was about to give her the last bit of her past she needed to complete the puzzle.

“I didn't want him to do any of this shit, but he wouldn't listen to me.” I couldn't tell her. I wanted to, I really did, but it was harder to speak the truth than it was for me to think about it. Holding up my hands, I bounced them in the air, hoping it might help deflect her curiosity. “My dad wanted to do the right thing, he told me he wanted to give you what you deserved; a family, a good life.”

“A family?” Cocking her head, her lids turned to slits. “And he thought that killing mine and replacing it with his was giving me what I deserved?”

“No, that's not. . .that wasn't what he meant to do.”

“Then what did he mean, Birch? How was this doing the right thing?” Anger bristled her skin and turned her stoic expression into a wave of emotion. Every ripple through the muscles on her face, every twitch and grimace was boldly painted with disgust.

It wasn't done out of cruelty. He didn't go there with the intentions to change your life.

“He didn't know about you, Cyprus, he didn't know that you existed.” Raking my fingers through my hair, I paced in the dirty, dimly lit room. “He took you because he thought it was the right thing to do, he wanted to help you.”

Scoffing, Cyprus spun on her heels and kicked the sleeping bag. “Help me, he wanted to help me.” Rolling her eyes, she stuffed her hands into her ribs. “Tell me how he did it. How did he make me forget it all?”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I felt my chest tighten as I tried to breathe. “Do you really want me to tell you?”

I asked her because she had been so determined to find out on her own, she didn't want me to tell her then, and I was hesitant to tell her now.

I had never talked about what we did, not to anyone. And now I was about to tell the one person that was never supposed to know. It hurt, it cut me deep and made my stomach turn into corded rope.

“Tell me.”

Do it, just get it out. She deserves to know.

Taking in a deep breath, I let it spill from my mouth like tainted water. “He drugged you.” The words stung my tongue, they burned my throat and made me hate myself for everything I hid from her.

“He what?” Cyprus dropped her arms to her sides, her back stiff and rigid. “He drugged me?”

Dragging my hands down my face, my lungs struggled to take in air. I couldn't catch my breath, every breath felt like I was inhaling hot ash. Dropping to my haunches, I braided my fingers together and hung my head. “We held you down, and then he injected you with something.”

Her eyes widened, arms hugging herself tighter. “What was it?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I shook my head. “I don't know, he wouldn't tell me.”

I watched as her body rolled and she absorbed the gravity of truth set at her feet. “How did I end up in the woods?”

“You got out.” Straightening my back, I stepped up to her, taking her hands in mine and squeezing them. “You wouldn't give up, you wouldn't back down. And you did that, you refused to sit back and listen to what he had to say, you refused to forget who you were no matter how many times he tried to scare you into it.” Shifting my eyes between hers, I kept talking. “You were able to get the door off the hinges, and somehow you got out without him or my mom seeing you. It took us four hours to find you and when we did, you were hiding in some overgrowth in the woods. Dad caught you, he dragged you out kicking and screaming. I didn't want to do that to you, I never wanted to hurt you, Cyprus. He made me help him, he forced me to do it even though I kept yelling at him that there had to be another way.”

My heart ached as the anger and sadness I felt that night crept back in, stealing me away. Clutching my chest, I forced myself to take slow even breaths. The pit in my stomach was still there, I could feel it as if all of this was still fresh and not years behind us.

“That's why I was out there, that's why I looked the way I did.”

The softness in her eyes surprised me. I expected her to be fuming, to hit me and slap me, and tell me she never wanted to speak to me again. Instead, her eyes were crystal clear, the clarity making them sparkle like a gem.

“It all makes sense now, all of it.” Pulling her hand free, she fumbled with her bottom lip. “The way you kept asking me if I remembered anything, you said it like you weren't sure you wanted to believe it. You had doubts, you—”

“I thought you might be trying to fool him and trick us. I wasn't sure it worked, and I knew if it didn't, you were smart enough to just pretend.”

Her eyes zeroed in on mine, brows drawing in hard. “He hid me for all these years and no one did a fucking thing. Why didn't any of the other guys say anything? How come no one threw him to the wolves when they got busted?”

“Because of fear.”

Fear was the only power he had. With every death at my father's hands, his control grew. The more people he destroyed, the easier it was to keep the rest in line. No one wanted to be at the other end, waiting to receive his punishment.

His secret was safe.

Her father was his first true reflex kill. He hadn't planned it, he didn't go there with the intentions to take him from Cyprus. But he did.

And that one choice changed our lives. That moment gave him more power than he could have ever imagined.

He took two lives that night, but he changed six.

I hated him for what he did. And yet, in my sick mind I was also grateful at the same time.

I almost thanked him once for bringing this woman into my life. I didn't know what stopped me from doing that, but I never could utter those words to him.

Maybe it was because I knew what he had done was wrong. Maybe it was because we lived a lie every single day, despite the love I felt for her.

All of it was out on the table now, and I felt like nothing like I thought I would if she found out our secret.

For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like cement coated my skin and my bones were made of lead.

I felt a release, I felt the weight lift and my heart break free.

For once, I had done the right thing.