Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Three
Elizabeth’s POV
I exited the closet in my new pajamas to see Zen sprawled out on top of the bedspread with a pair of cotton pants hanging seductively from his hips. He was eyeing the chandelier. The way he was running his hands through his hair made it obvious that he was anxious. This would be my second night ever spent with Zen, and I would be falling asleep knowing a substantial amount more about him than I did yesterday. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t incredibly nervous. Tom said that the murder case was ‘gruesome’. What could have happened that was so bad that Zen didn’t want to tell me?
“What happened when you were ten?” I asked quietly, observing him closely as I sat on the bed beside him. His body was tense, but his eyes were wavering. Whatever he was remembering was painful for him. I held my hand out, cupping his cheek in my palm. His seafoam eyes darted over to me, as if just realizing that I was there. He was silently pleading with me with the twinkle of the chandelier reflecting off his eyes. I leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead. I could feel the tension leaving his body under my touch.
“That was when I found out that I was a killer.” He stated dryly. I had seen him do this before, close himself off. I waited patiently for him to continue, frustrated when he pulled away from me to climb under the covers. I joined him, allowing him to pull me into his arms. This bed was a million times better than the motel, and my body was thankful for the added comfort. His feathery hair was tickling my ear, but I didn’t mind. It was nice. He took a deep breath with his nose buried in my hair before speaking again.
“My dad was really fucked up. He was a raging alcoholic that beat the shit out of my mom and me for ten years. Even though he was hard on me, he was worse on her. Most of the time my mom would distract him so that he would forget I even existed. She would tell me to hide in the shoe closet until she came to get me, but she couldn’t protect me from the sick fucker. Sometimes he would even rape her right in front of me. I can still hear her screams in my head, begging me to leave the fucking room. The worst part was that I didn’t even realize how fucking wrong it all was until I had a friend over on my eighth birthday and he saw it all happen. He had to go to counseling after and wouldn’t speak to me anymore. That was the last friend I ever had. It didn’t take long for the rumors to spread at school, and I was avoided like the plague. People claimed that I liked to fuck my own mother. I fucking hated my dad once I realized what he was doing. My mom begged me not to, but I couldn’t help it. It was all his fucking fault.” His knuckles whitened with how tightly he was clenching the sheets around me. He took another deep breath, but this one was shaky. Tears were already wetting the pillowcase beneath me, but I stayed quiet.
“One day I got home from school and he had already downed a bottle of scotch. I could hear him fucking my mom from the living room, so I went down the hall and locked myself in my room. Then it got really fucking quiet all of a sudden. I thought it was weird for them to go from yelling to nothing so quickly so I got up to check it out. I passed through the kitchen, but they weren’t there anymore. I noticed some blood on the floor leading to their bedroom, and I started freaking out. I knew something was wrong so I grabbed a knife from a drawer and followed the trail. The door was open, and when I stepped in, I saw my dad leaning over my mom’s dead body.” I couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping my lips. Oh, Zen…
“From there, I don’t really know all of what happened. All I remember is the cops dragging me off of my dad’s cut up body. I carved holes in the bastard. I was completely covered in the fuckers blood. They had to hose me off in the back yard before putting me in the cop car. The court psychologist said that I had some sort of psychotic episode, but ended up testifying that it was self-defense to save me from punishment.” He gave me a moment to process what he had told me, but I couldn’t. I literally couldn’t fathom what he had gone through or what he had done and so I just stayed silent. His grip on me loosened and his voice became void of emotion.
“From there I bounced around to different foster homes. I never stayed long, since my foster parents and siblings kept claiming that I creeped them out or assaulted them. I’m pretty sure that they just didn’t want to end up like my dad. It took my last foster parents all but twenty seconds to kick me out when I turned eighteen. When I rounded the corner of my neighborhood, Danny was waiting for me. He told me that I didn’t have to run from what I was. He said I could embrace being a killer and earn lots of money while doing so. I couldn’t say no. I was homeless, and to be honest, it sounded like a pretty good deal. I had a lot of pent up anger from years of being fucked over, and killing was a sort of therapy for me. On top of that, it made me good money. I didn’t think I would ever leave.” He didn’t think he would ever leave… until me. If he hadn’t been assigned to me, I would be dead and he would still be killing people. For money. And some twisted form of therapy.
“Oh my God.” I pushed his arms off and rushed to the bathroom, emptying all of the contents of my stomach into the toilet. He liked killing people. It wasn’t like he was just doing it for the money. It actually made him feel good. I thought back to the sex we had this evening, but it only made me puke more. He said that he didn’t want to rape me. He had his hand around my throat. He hit me.
The feeling of his clammy hand on my shoulder made me jump. He quickly pulled it back, swearing under his breath. I couldn’t look at him. I was so afraid that if I did, I would see a killer; the same killer that he saw in himself. I didn’t want my opinion of Zen to change because of what he disclosed to me, but I couldn’t help it. I was scared.
“I’ll… um. I’ll sleep down the hall.” He mumbled before leaving the bathroom. My heart sank after hearing the defeat in his voice.
What is wrong with me? This is Zen. He didn’t want to tell me all of this because of the risk that I would reject him, and that’s exactly what I was doing. I felt the shame creeping up my chest as I re-evaluated his words. He was the victim in his father’s case. He was abused and alone in the world, and he had just witnessed the only person who cared about him be killed. He broke down, resorting to the only thing he knew. He poured out his hate, his rage onto his father, and the man damn well deserved it. He couldn’t help the beast that his father had created inside of him, and Dan came along just to exploit it. He preyed on Zen’s insecurities and convinced him that he was some kind of monster and natural born killer.
I got up to brush the disgusting taste out of my mouth, splashing some cool water on my face after rinsing. Then I stood for awhile just taking in my reflection in the mirror.
The last thing Zen said to me was, ‘I didn’t think I would ever leave.’ But, he did leave. He left when he met me. He abandoned everything he had ever known just to save me. Suddenly, the significance of Zen’s decision the night before hit me full-fledged.
“He left.” I whispered to myself, like a crazy person. Rage began to replace every ounce of fear and panic in my body and I pushed off the counter to pace the bathroom. I was pissed at everyone! Pissed at his father for what he’d done, pissed at the stupid kids at his school, pissed at his foster families, pissed at Dan for manipulating him, pissed at Zen for believing it, and most of all, pissed at myself for turning my back on him. He may be broken, but he treated me like a goddess. He practically worshiped me since I met him, and he left his cushy life behind just to ensure my safety. He was fighting years of programming just to be ‘better’ for me and here I was sulking on the bathroom floor instead of embracing him and telling him that it’s going to be okay.
Before I knew it, I was flying down the hallway towards the dimly lit doorway of the guestroom. I threw the door open with urgency, startling Zen who was sitting with his elbows on his knees at the end of the bed. His eyes were red and swollen, and my heart broke at the thought of him crying. I probably looked like a madwoman the way I threw myself into his arms, making us almost fall back onto the bed. I could hear Zen’s fast heartbeat beneath my ear and my body was trembling with adrenaline.
“Princess?” He whispered, trying to pull me back enough to look at me, but I wouldn’t let him. I didn’t want to be separated from him just yet. “Fuck, did I break you?” He whispered, and I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. When I didn’t respond, he sighed and began rocking me in his all-encompassing arms. Back and forth, back and forth. The motion was soothing, and soon the trembling stopped. I pulled away from him, climbing from his lap so that I was kneeling in front of him. “Princess, what are you doing?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.
I took his hands in mine, running my thumbs over his while I stared into his eyes. My fears were for nothing. I didn’t see a killer after all. I just saw… Zen. It was the same Zen that I had always seen, only now I knew the cause of the darkness inside of him. My lips began to tremble, but I willed myself not to cry. He needed to hear how I felt. I thought back to our moment with his cigarettes earlier. I had said something to him that I thought was absolutely ridiculous sounding, but I could think of no other words that could express what was in my heart. So with a soft smile on my mouth, I brought his hands to my lips, and after kissing them, leaned back and whispered,
“I accept you, Zen.”