Secret Keepers

Chapter 22

   Before I could react, he continued on, pulling out an old daisy he'd obviously found a long time ago. "So there I was, hiding in an attic space from staring townsfolk, slowly watching my life slip away from me. My father wouldn't speak to me. My mother forgave me because I was too young to be able to make good decisions. But when the sickness hit an  my father died, she was forced to go to work. I was forced to stay at home alone. I started to go out in the yard and I'd sit for hours on an old tree stump, staring at people as they strolled. They had stared at me. I stared back twice as hard. But then big bad Leeland decided to visit. For some reason he didn't seem phased by my staring or my silence. He just seemed determined to be my friend. So who was I to deny him the chance. I let him into the house. I gave him a cookie off the counter and then he invited me and my mother to dinner at his house. His mother was dead. My mother was single. A few months passed and I wasn't an only child anymore. At least, not technically."

   "Wait. So Cutter's real name is Leeland?"

   "Yes. I thought I didn't have to answer that."

   I shook my head. "Sorry. Carry on."

   "Okay then. Besides the point, you know how me and Cutter eventually got on the road. But what you didn't know is how we earned our calling. We became murderers. We went to bars and spread the word that we would kill anyone that needed to be killed as long as they had money to spare. It wasn't a knight who picked us up. It was a bounty hunter. He was sent to get rid of us. But when he saw that we were simply fifteen year old street rats, he decided to give us a second chance. He took us to the king and made us swear we would only kill in service of the king. We preferred that over execution so we swore. While living there, the kings son, Adam Gingrich, decided we were his only option for friends since he couldn't leave the castle. So he joined us in the killing business. We eventually met Gerald and Justin Hannin along the way and eventually a guy called Peter Swift."

   I could only supposed that Gerald and Justin were Slice and Dagger. Peter had to be Rage. "We started calling ourselves the Secret Keepers, but we were ironically the exact opposite. We spilled every secret the kingdom had to offer. But eventually it wasn't safe anymore. The noblemen were plotting our downfall. And they almost caused mine. One night I was staked out in town listening for anything suspicious, when they threw me some bait. There was a girl on the street corner, her neckline pulled dangerously low and her dress was as short as I'd ever seen one. Being emotionless would've given me an edge if I hadn't have been a seventeen year old with an eye for breasts. So I fell for it. She led me through the streets and back to her home, but as I walked in, a sword was at my back. They tied me and kept me captive for several hours, torturing me and making me tell them what I knew. They strung my neck in a noose and held it tight enough that I had to stand on tiptoe so I wasn't strangled. They whipped and lashed me with ridingcrops and horse grade whips. They scalded the royal crest into my upper pectoral with a hot iron."

   He pulled his shirt collar down to show a perfect royal crest burned into his skin. I gasped and covered my mouth as he continued. "I don't know how much of my blood was spilled, but it was getting to be too much. I thought I was already dead. But despite that, it still hurt. I waited for death, but eventually, by the words of a girl who had watched this and couldn't stand it, I was set free. I went home, but told no one of what had happened. I told them all I had fallen down an embankment and gotten the bruises on my face. Like fools they believed me. To this day I refuse to take off my shirt in front of them due to my scars from that night. But it was me who convinced them to leave. I wouldn't be able to stand it if more than one of us suffered the way I had."

   I sniffed and leaned over to him, hugging his neck. "I'm so sorry."

   He sighed and stood up, pulling his shirt over his head. As he turned to show me his back, I burst into tears. His back was mauled and misshapen, covered from top to bottom in lacerations and scar tissue. There wasn't a single spot where he wasn't scarred. "How did you hide all of this from them the night it happened?"

   "Sheer will. I can control my emotions very well."

   I sobbed and reached out, touching his terrible back gently. He turned back around and the royal crest gleamed in the light on his chest. I reached up and rubbed it, looking into his eyes. Despite his emotionless face, his eyes were a gateway. I could see every last tear he'd held back. Every last memory. Every single feeling he hid behind his brick wall of a face.

   I cupped his cheek, having to reach high above my head due to his height. "I think you need to cry."

   "Why is that?"

   "You'd feel better."

   "I highly doubt that."

   "Well I think you should. Maybe you'll surprise yourself."

   He paused and looked at the floor. "I don't know if I can any more. I've trained my body to ignore feeling."

   "Then just focus on feeling. Focus on everything you held back. Focus on things that made you feel upset inside."

   He sighed and sat down in his chair and I sat directly in front of him. He seemed lost in thought for a few moments and then his frown deepened. He closed his eyes as it seemed as thought he clogged up emotions were having trouble escaping.

   I gently took his hands which were icy cold and rough and I squeezed them. "Come on. You've grinned at me once before. You can cry can't you."

   His shoulders jerked and his lips pulled back as he lurched in the chair. Then a loud strangled sob yanked itself from his torso. Like a crack in a dam, he poured out his feelings. Tears cascaded from his eyes to fall to our hands, but I didn't let him go. I stayed with him as he released all his sorrows. His forehead leaned down to rest on my forearms, but I simply shushed him and rubbed his hair.

   I said nothing for the half hour he vented and cried, but eventually he seemed to find an end and he sat up slowly. He sniffed and fought for breath, but as he wiped his eyes with a napkin I handed him, he looked up at me. He stood and hugged me tightly, nearly crushing me with the ferocity of the embrace.

   I smiled and hugged him back. "So? Do you feel better?"

   He nodded. "Yes. I guess I forgot how good it felt to be able to let go of things. It'll take some getting used to. But…you don't mind if I come to you for help?"

   I shook my head as he leaned back and met my eyes. "Of course I don't mind. You six are my best friends. You're like my family now."

   He actually smiled a weak smile and he took my hands. "I guess I have to retract ny statement about fake family. Blood doesn't always make family. It makes biological families, but sometimes the family you make along your journey is the one you need the most."