The Dead King - Page 33

“I believe the reason I came back to life,” he said, “was not because of the ring. It was because death will not have me.”

The ring. The ring. “You mean the ring you were wearing before?”

“When I woke in that metal box, it was in my hand, and I knew what it was. I knew it reversed death. It heals injuries. That is why I put it on your father’s finger before I smothered him with a pillow while you slept.”

“I’m sorry. You did what?” I sat up and pulled the covers over my chest.

“He did not feel a thing, I promise. But he needed to die first in order to be brought back—healed. The next morning, I ensured he did not recall the incident.”

What the hell? He killed my dad?

Jack gave me a look. “Everything comes with a price, Jeni.”

I scrubbed my face with my hands. I couldn’t even handle thinking about it. “Where’s the ring now?”

“Your father still wears it.” He sat up and stared into my eyes. “I made a deal with you—to ensure he would be protected.”

I hadn’t even noticed my dad wearing it, but then again, I’d been distracted by the miracle of him standing in the kitchen, making pancakes.

Suddenly, another thought hit me. “So if you didn’t have the ring on at the warehouse, how did you come back?”

“That is part of the puzzle I was attempting to explain. I recall removing the ring while I was trapped inside the container, repeatedly drowning. I wanted the pain to end. I wanted to die. However, I kept coming back. Or, at least, this is what I remember. So I tested my theory in your motel room. A quick drowning confirmed that whatever I am, whoever I was, hell will not have me.”

Jesus. Rejected by hell? It explained why he kept telling me he was not a good man. He believed he was too rotten for even the devil’s taste. Of course, I didn’t believe in any of that stuff. Or maybe I did? Every belief I used to have was up in the air. “So you want to drop it—you don’t want to know who you were or how you ended up on the bottom of the ocean.”

“That house,” he said, “that office, my few memories are all pointing to the fact that I am beyond redemption. Beyond human.”

I never thought I would see a man like him fear his own evil. He wasn’t afraid of pain, of dying, of killing.

“Thank you, but I am not afraid.”

“Then what?” I asked.

“It is merely a question of logic. Someone went to great lengths to erase me off the face of this planet and punish me. Perhaps their actions were warranted, given what I have learned.”

“Okay.”

He turned his head to look at me. “I do not want to live forever. I know from experience that being unable to die is its own kind of hell.”

“And?”

“And perhaps I should attempt another path instead of continuing on the previous one.”

Redemption, I thought.

“Yes.” He nodded.

I couldn’t exactly argue with him. I had gotten a taste of that house’s…whatever it was. I’d felt the same darkness in that abandoned office. If he decided not to pursue his past life any further, I got it. I got why.

“I am glad you agree.” He placed his feet on the floor, putting his back to me. “I will order breakfast while you bathe,” he said.

I took that as a polite way of saying he needed a moment.

I got up and glanced over my shoulder at Jack, noting how something had shifted inside him. Even his face looked different. The dark shadows that once clung to him had been replaced by light. His cheeks were flushed, and his blue eyes seemed brighter somehow.

“Stop looking at me. Shower,” he commanded.

I bobbed my head and went into the all-white marble bathroom. It was an old hotel, so the space was small, but the big showerhead and glass sinks were nicer than anything I was used to.

As I let the water heat, my mind wandered. Was this subtle shift in Jack because of me? Was it because he’d decided to take another path? I didn’t know, but for certain, his change of plans caught me off guard. Even he had to see how turning away from his past meant he wasn’t irredeemable. Something told him not to repeat history.

I let out a slow breath and stepped under the shower, allowing the hot water to run down my neck and back. I shampooed and washed my body, noting my sore muscles. I felt physically exhausted, and mentally, the worry was just getting started. Because I was beginning to realize that I’d made a deal with that blonde woman. A deal I couldn’t keep.

Fuck. I should’ve told Jack about the cuff. I should have said something right away.

Tags: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff Paranormal
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