Page 130 of Behind the Shadows

I used to think judgment would come with sirens or a noose. But it came wrapped in silence and in my palm. A new cross, forged not from guilt or surveillance, but from choice. This time, no one was watching me. No one was pulling my strings. I didn’t wear it to repent. I wore it to remember who I really was—who I chose to be. And that? That was my final judgment.

I turned the cross over several times, noting each curve, each detail, and the intricate design embedded on the crucifix. Death had put thought into every inch of this—each notch, each edge, a message I was finally ready to carry. I closed my eyes briefly, elated that our friendship was still intact. We were good. It was time to celebrate while I could. Before the tides turned once again, and all hell broke loose. But today. Today was good, and that’s all that I had.

I closed the blades and held the cross in one hand while I fumbled in my back pocket for my phone. Checking the time, I realized that Holland’s conference should be over. I tapped the screen, called her, and then held the phone to my ear.

“There’s my favorite person.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “Are you home? I’m ready to take your clothes off and worship my monster.”

I groaned; images of her with my new cross inside her cunt had my cock throbbing instantly. “No. But I hope it will be soon.”

Silence.

“Kip? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” I didn’t miss the thread of excitement in her tone.

“I’m standing in a house that I hope you’ll love as much as I do.”

For several seconds she didn’t say a word and then, “You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“No, baby. I’m asking you to buy a place with me. Start the next chapter of our lives.”

She sniffled, and I realized she was crying. “I want this with you so much. When can we see it? I can meet you there now.”

Chuckling, I made my way down the hall to locate the Realtor. “Do you have plans this evening? I would love for Holland to see the place tonight.”

She checked her calendar and then confirmed she could stay another hour.

“I’ll be there in thirty,” Holland said. The engine of her Mercedes purred to life. “Drop me the address.”

“Okay. Drive safe. I’ll be waiting. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Slowly, I walked back inside, sensing the possibilities of a new day. A new start. The woman I loved by my side, and my family reunited.

I tucked the phone into my pocket and looked around once more. Soon it would smell like her shampoo. There’d be coffee cups left on the counter and dog hair on the rug. A real home, finally.

I leaned against the doorframe, hands in my pockets, staring at the filtered light spilling across the floor like a promise.

Yeah. This wasn’t just a house. It was a future. Ours.

Holland and I had earned the quiet. For now. But I knew better than to believe in silence. Because somewhere in the dark … the Pied Piper still played.

And this time, we were listening.