Page 10 of Below The Surface
I shuffle to the door and open it to her concerned face. “No. I’ll get my shit together, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I know Darla’s news is tough. That fucking bastard has been out there living his best life after destroying countless lives. It’s hard.” She wipes at my face. I hadn’t realized I was crying.
“Get in the shower and wash everything away.”
I nod again and kiss her palm.
The shower does not wash everything away. In fact, it makes things worse.
Reminding me about the first man I killed and, unfortunately, it wasn’t Charles Orlov. He got away. He ran. He hid. He changed his face. Changed his name. He’s in the mother fucking spotlight.
Can I turn my followers on him? If I show them proof? But what proof do I have other than my own memories? He doesn’teven look the same and I don’t have a picture of his face from before. I destroyed them all when we ran from the cult.
I turn the water as cold as it’ll get and grit my teeth to the shock. Sometimes it’s the only thing that gets me out of my head.
Should I go to therapy? For sure. Will I? Nah. What would I say? I grew up in a cult with my best friends. I killed the man I witnessed raping Dorian, then he killed himself.
Oh, and to blow off steam, me and Kendra torture then kill other rapists and traffickers via livestream. Because I love having an audience. Oh, why am I a merfolk performer? For funsies. No, but for real, after getting free from Charles, I kind of soaked up as much information about everything we were never allowed to learn about and became an ocean conservationist in a way. I educate people, mostly kids, about the ocean and what they can do to protect it. Being a merman helps sell the info. Plus, I love swimming. I feel free in water, like there’s not a ton of bricks on my chest weighing my mind down. Also helps my spicy brain in a way nothing else does. If I feel a meltdown coming, I can usually stave it off with a swim.Usually. A swim or a fuck and my normal choice is a swim.
I hop out of the shower and dry off. I wrap the towel around my waist and almost run into Kendra when I open the door.
“Uh, hello? Creepy much?” I say.
“You know how I get. I worried. If you were in there five more minutes, I was going to come in and?—”
I squeeze her hand. “I’m okay. I won’t ever hurt you like Dorian hurt us.”
“I know. It’s just. I love you and?—”
“I love you, too.” I pull her in for a hug and she squeals.
“Ew! You’re still all wet!”
We’re laughing again when I chase her through the apartment until she plops on the couch to catch her breath.
“Shoo. Get dressed, you pest.”
“Love yaaaa.” I sashay to my bedroom to pull on some clothes and pack one of my fabric tails for today’s job.
She’s on her phone when I rejoin her in the living room.
I plop next to her on the couch. “I think I’m gonna hit the pool tonight. I need a swim to clear my head.”
“Want company?” she asks.
“Nah, I’ll be fine. Go on and eat dinner without me.”
She looks up from the screen. “You’re gonna be gone that long?”
“Yeah. I wanna test a few new tricks too, so I don’t know how long I’ll be.”
“Alright. I might see if Danielle is down to play, so don’t worry if I’m not home when you get back.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Alright, so let’s go get our mer on.”
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