Chapter Thirty-Eight
Madison
With revenge motivating me, dealing with what happened was easier. The need for blood became a driving force that allowed me to put my thoughts and feelings on hold. Now my feelings, doubt, and shame overshadow everything. My mind is a dark hole with a smoky mist that Moon stands in to beckon me out. His hand is there. I can almost touch it, but my fingers slide away, a millimeter short, and the darkness covers me once more.
Sleep is the worst. Nightmares make me toss and turn throughout the night. Most center around blood on my hands. They drip the red, congealed mess onto everything I touch and when I open my eyes it’s still there. Or so the dream goes.
I find it strange that I don’t dream about what Fernandez did to me. It’s his laughter, though, that wakes me night after night. Moon is always there to comfort me during those horrible hours. He pulls me close to his body when I give the slightest gasp. I breathe in his scent and fill my lungs with his strength. Until I fall asleep again, I think it’s enough. And then I dream of more blood. More violence. More death.
I hate the night.
After three days, nothing’s changed.
“You need to take a walk, dear,” Mrs. Loche says from the kitchen where she’s preparing us a meal. She arrived twenty minutes ago and I’m trying like crazy to carry on a conversation with her. I appreciate all she does and the food she cooks. I’m just not hungry, and she finds it very disturbing. “I think I will try a walk,” I answer. “Just up the hill and back.”
“Fred will like that.”
Fred. I haven’t left the house and visited him since we arrived. He has a large enclosure to keep him happy and safe from the wildlife who would make a dinner out of him. “I’ll take Fred with me.”
Really what I want is to be alone. Moon is helping Mr. Loche with the engine on his small tractor. It’s more Mr. Loche trying to teach Moon about the engine and Moon nodding like he knows what the older man is talking about. I usually find it funny and endearing. Now I’m just relieved Moon has something to do and I can be alone. When Mrs. Loche decided to restock our freezer, and do some cooking, my quiet morning ended.
After walking upstairs, I open my closet door and look at the clothes inside. We keep an entire wardrobe here and most of the clothes are items we would never wear in the city. I need shorts and a T-shirt and shoes. I make it as far as untying the sash on my robe when the tears start. My knees hit the carpet and then I curl up into a ball and cry.
I have no idea how long I lie there, when Moon scoops me up from the floor and carries me to the bed. “You need to talk to someone, Madison.”
“No,” I breathe through my tears.
“Then listen to someone. I don’t know what to do to help you, baby.” I keep my eyes closed when he wipes the tear-drenched hair from my face.
He holds me tight and finally I’m able to open my eyes and look past the tears. Moon’s expression is ravaged with uncertainty, which is so far from the man he is. Guilt fills me, but all I can do is shake my head. “I just wanted to take a walk. Help me get my clothes, please.”
He kisses my forehead, slides me from his lap, and brings me back the items I need for the walk. His warm hands lift my nightshirt after I shrug off the robe. He brought me a sports bra and helps me pull it on. I’m nothing but a big goddamn baby and for a minute I’m irritated at myself. It doesn’t last, though, because the gray fog that holds me down comes roaring back and I no longer want to take the walk.
“Come on,” Moon says with his hand out.
My tear-stained face tilts back so I can see his eyes again. This time they’re determined and something inside me tightens. I place my hand in his and he pulls me up slowly without releasing my hand. We walk down the stairs and out the back door. I glance up the side of the mountain. I’ve always loved hiking to the top. Today it seems a hundred miles away. Moon gives a slight tug on my hand and we head toward Fred’s enclosure.
Fred sees me and does a wild, bucking spin around the gate before we reach him. Moon opens the enclosure door and Fred streaks out and does more wild bucking until he’s calm enough to have his head scratched.
Moon places his fingers under my chin and tilts my face up. “It nice to see you smile.”
It actually feels nice to smile. “Let’s go,” I say with a total lack of energy. We start the climb and Fred runs around us enjoying his freedom. There is an outcropping of rocks about halfway and that becomes my goal for today. I’m panting by the time we make it there. Moon turns and sits before pulling me onto his lap. I lean my head back against his shoulder and look at the sky. Small clusters of puffy white clouds fill my vision.
“I know someone you can talk to.” Moon’s voice is soft against my hair. “I know that’s part of your problem. We have secrets you can’t divulge and it worries you.” He squeezes my shoulder.
“Moon,” I whisper, drawing out the sound.
“You can tell him anything. Spill all of our secrets if needed. I’m calling him, but it could be several days to a week before he arrives.”
My fingernails dig into his forearm. I want to fight with him about this, but even that is too much for my brain to handle. I’d need to send words to my lips and then make sentences of the words. We sit like that for a short time. Fred walks over and sniffs my fingers for another head scratch and then runs off and heads for a higher outcropping of rocks. He loves playing king of the mountain, and I wish I had the energy to play with him.
A short time later, we head back down the hill and I return to our bedroom while Moon makes his call. I should care more than I do. Moon’s right, though. Talking about what happened would lead to questions I can’t answer honestly. If you can’t be honest with a therapist, who can you be honest with?
∞∞∞
It’s three more days before our guest arrives. I’m actually tongue-tide when Moon introduces me to Father Andrews. He’s American but lives in Mexico and drove all this way to return a favor he owed my husband. He’s younger than a priest has a right to be and he’s too damn good looking for his job. I place him in his early thirties. It’s strange because he looks oddly familiar even though I’m sure I’ve never met him.
The three of us walk into the living room where Mrs. Loche put out cucumber sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies. Father Andrews’s eyes light up. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast and these look delicious,” he says while filling a plate.
Moon doesn’t sit with us. “Mr. Loche and I are working on a new garden and clearing some land. I’ll be next door if you need me.” He leans down and places his lips on mine for a short kiss. It actually embarrasses me because Father Andrews is watching. Moon taps me under the chin in understanding because of the heat traveling up my neck and into my face. He shakes Father Andrews’s hand and walks outside.
We sit in silence while Father Andrews finishes his sandwich and devours three cookies. He wears a collar and I still have trouble picturing him as an actual priest. Moon said I could tell this man anything and it would be in the confidence of a confessional. I’m not so sure, though. I ask the first question. “How do you know my husband?”
He takes a sip of his water and then rests the glass on a coaster. “Your husband saved me in Mexico when I got myself into a bit of a scrape with one of the cartels.”
“Was it Frontera?”
He nods. “Yes, that would be the one.”
“Is your church in Mexico?”
He scratches his chin. “Yes, but I travel back and forth across the border several times a week.”
“You know about my husband’s activities?”
“Yes.” He smiles gently. “I know.”
Here goes nothing. “I was raped by a very bad man. My husband put a bullet through that man’s head before I could kill him myself.”
He doesn’t blink. “That sounds like Xavier.”
I’m stumped by how accepting this priest is. “You don’t have a problem with my husband taking a life?” I ask incredulously.
“He took a life to save mine. It would be hypocritical of me to condemn him without knowing the facts. Did the man he killed deserve to die?”
I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. “Yes, he deserved to die and much more painfully than he did.”
“Is that what has you so upset?”
“No.” I stand up and walk a few feet away, aware of Father Andrews’s eyes following me. “I was a cop,” I say and begin pacing. This is actually more energy than I’ve put out since my walk three days ago. “I wanted that man dead. He tortured my friend. Disfigured her for life and we were both raped.” I stop and look into Father Andrews’s eyes. “I wanted him dead and prayed for the chance to do it myself.”
No sympathy shows in his gaze and that helps. “Are you angry Xavier took that away from you?”
I walk two steps and plop back down on the couch. “Yes… no… I don’t know.” I bury my face in my palms.
“Xavier protects his own. It’s who he is.”
I want to hit something. “Maybe it’s not who I am,” I say angrily. “Or maybe I’m not the person I thought I was.”
“Would that be a good person?”
Would it? I thought of myself as a good person. I went to work, paid my taxes, and even donated to charity. I was a cop for God’s sake. Then my entire world changed. I fell in love and became a different person. Hell, even after the rape, I wanted to sit at Moon’s side and be his queen in crime. I actually still want that…maybe. This doesn’t make me a good person.
“That good person no longer exists,” I answer because I fear she’s gone forever.
“You were raped. That wasn’t your fault—”
I speak before he can add to that statement. “It was entirely my fault. I went into my relationship with Moon knowing exactly what he was involved in. I was raped because of the world I chose.” I lift my chin prepared to battle against whatever he says next.
“Maybe you don’t know your husband as well as you think you do.” He lets that hang before continuing. “Xavier helps his people. Those people aren’t just here in the US, they’re on the other side of the border too. I’ve seen a lot when it comes to drugs, drug trafficking, and manufacturing. People die every day due to drugs. Your husband takes volatile situations and saves lives by taking over and controlling the drug trade. It wasn’t easy. He lost good people and he takes each death personally. He also works to end human trafficking. He rehabilitates the women and children and provides for them until they can provide for themselves.”
I’m aware of Moon’s help with human trafficking, but I don’t interrupt.
“Xavier is a modern day Robin Hood in the eyes of many.”
This time I can’t keep quiet. “Not to the police.”
“No,” he says with a smile. “Not to the police.” He waits a heartbeat before continuing. “Is it guilt that’s eating at you, my child?”
He’s too young to say things like “my child,” and I say so. “Does the ‘my child’ routine score you points when you’re talking to a parishioner?”
He laughs without taking offense. “Would you like me to call you Mrs. Moon?”
“God no,” I say and then cover my mouth at blasphemy in front of a priest.
He releases another loud chuckle. “Believe me, I’ve heard worse.”
“Please call me Mak.” I don’t usually give people an explanation, but I do this time. “It stands for Madison Abigail Kinlock.”
“Mak it is.” He turns his legs slightly so we’re facing each other. “I think you’ve been through a lot. I would like to understand where you’re coming from and why you feel such guilt for loving a man who deserves your love.”
Tears form and I don’t stop them from falling. “I do love him,” I say. “I feel adrift. I feel guilt. What bothers me the most is the lust I have for blood. I wanted to kill Fernandez and I would have. Moon knew it and he put that death on his hands.”
“Isn’t that what you do for someone you love?”
“Yes.” I shake my head. “You do. I was a cop and gave my life up for love. Well, not being a cop. I was a private investigator because of a shoulder injury when I first met Moon. Back then I had a line that divided right from wrong.”
“I had the same line and maybe I’m sitting here talking to you because I was a police officer too.”
That shocks me and I don’t have an immediate reply. Father Andrews doesn’t say anything while I work through what he just revealed. “Why did you give it up?” I ask because I really want to know what changed him.
“I was in over my head working undercover. I became addicted to the same drugs I was trying to fight. I also discovered I could do more good in my current role. I work on both sides of the law now.” He waves his hand before I can ask him exactly what he does that’s against the law. “I transport people in need into this country or get them out of this country when it’s called for. I help find homes for victims of sex trafficking when they need it. I look the other way when needed too.”
“I look the other way too,” I whisper.
He slowly places his hand on mine and gives me time to pull back if I wish. The warmth settles on my skin and I take a deep breath. “I don’t know who I am anymore.” I look down at my lap and allow more tears to fall.
“The man who raped you and tortured your friend...do you have guilt over his death?”
I shake my head. “No.”
“Do you feel guilty because you couldn’t stop him from raping you?”
“I feel so much guilt and shame. I hate the fact that Moon saw what happened. I hate that I didn’t fight back even after I knew Fernandez liked it. I hate that Moon didn’t see me fighting. I hate that the Madison from years ago would hate the new me. I hate that I’m conflicted and most of all I hate that my husband is suffering because of me. I just can’t stop all these damn feelings from raging through me.” I bend forward and place my other hand on top of the one holding mine. I cry into our hands and allow the sobs to take over.
Father Andrews waits, allowing me to cry. When only a few sniffles are left, he speaks. “I could say all the things about cleaving unto thy husband and him cleaving unto you, but that would be bullshit. In this day and age it’s a rarity. The cop part of our life is over and we made that decision with our eyes open. Things might have been forced upon you when you hurt your shoulder, but you continued to see black and white like you were trained to do. It isn’t the world we live in. It actually never was.” He pauses and I absorb his words. “You will have so many decisions to make in your lifetime and many will be hard. You can absolve your sins and go forward with a pure mind. Xavier would let you go even though it would kill him to do so. He loves you that much.”
I inhale and exhale slowly. “I love him that much too.”
“Something was taken from you when you were raped. No one can give that back. Someone who loves you can give you more, though.”
Moon would give me everything.
“Talk to your husband and tell him everything you’ve told me. He’ll understand.”
“It will hurt him so much.”
“He’s smart and he already knows.”
Father Andrews might seem too young to be a priest, but he has the wisdom of the Pope. “I’ll try,” I answer honestly. “Would you like to meet Fred?”
“I would love to meet Fred,” he says having no idea Fred is my goat.
He follows me out the back door and I walk him to the pen and allow Fred outside after he calms down. “Where did this gorgeous fellow come from?” he asks when Fred is calm enough to receive a quick pat.
“I rescued him from the shelter. Or I should say my husband did. Fred belonged to a homeless woman I was friends with. She died and Fred didn’t have long to live either.”
“It’s hard to be a cop with a heart. Even when we start out that way, it doesn’t last. We see too much. We’re unable to do the hard things that need doing because the law doesn’t allow it. Sometimes it takes a very bad man to fight evil. I’m glad you found that man.”
Moon in a nutshell.