Jekyll, an Urban Fantasy

  At whose expense? Landon’s question buzzed in his head like the mosquito that circles you, landing briefly, and no matter how many times you swat it away, it always comes back. Eventually, the point comes when you realize that until it bites, gets its fill of you, it will never leave you alone. And so you let it. But this was far more than one mosquito. This was a swarm. And Mitch knew that he if faced the truth of it, there was a big chance he’d end up sucked dry.

  At whose expense? Everyone’s.

  “Okay,” Landon said, wiping his eyes roughly. “I showed you mine. Now it’s your turn.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “Not optional, dude. Tell me about your wicked stepmother or the old lady you lost your virginity to. Something. Anything.”

  Mitch stared at him for a while, wondering what he could possibly say that would come even close to what Landon had shared. Something that personal. “Alright, cop, you asked for it. Tat-for-tits, or whatever.” Then he cleared his throat, readied his confession. “You know what my worst problem is? It’s not her, or who she is.” He didn’t look at Landon, just saw his pitying expression out of the corner of his eye. “It’s me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because…” He wet his lips, wondering how to say all of the things he was thinking. That he was weak, that he kept fucking things up, that he couldn’t trust himself. But like he’d told her—it was what was behind the words that told the story. And the only thing he could trust were actions. Or reactions. And that was the biggest problem, wasn’t it? His reactions.

  So when he spoke, it wasn’t pretty. “Holding him down is torture.” The words only a garbled up message, a symbol of everything that wasn’t good enough inside of him.

  “Hyde?”

  “Is there another demon I should know about?”

  “Nah, sorry. Keep talking.”

  “I feel him constantly. Sometimes it’s like he’s far away, and other times…he’s so close, we’re almost one person. And not a good one.”

  If she really had combined her two halves like she wanted him to believe, he envied her. Wished he didn’t feel the constant pain of being pulled apart. The sense of desperation that came with knowing your evil was more powerful than your good.

  How could she have accepted that person? Granted, Chastity was nothing like Hyde, but she sure as hell wasn’t the kind of person he’d think Eden would want to share a body with. But if it had really happened for her, to her, whatever, he was glad. At least one of them could be happy.

  “You aren’t him, you know?” Landon said. “You’re better than he is.”

  Mitch looked at the poor, deluded guy. “How the fuck do you know?”

  Landon shrugged and took another drink.

  “And I just…if I let him go, let him out, I think I’d finally feel…peace. For the first time in my life, I’d feel peace.”

  “What about while you and Eden were together? You didn’t feel it then?”

  “What I felt then was…” Joy. Satisfaction. Hope. He shook his head—those thoughts were useless. “It didn’t last, and it’s not coming back. But if I let go…” He didn’t know how to say it without scaring Landon. And yet, he needed to confess. “If I let go for even one moment, Hyde would do horrible things. But I’d finally be able to relax.” He chuckled bitterly. “What kind of man does that make me? That the only way I’ll ever feel peace comes with a death toll?”

  Landon didn’t say anything. There was no ‘Come on, man. You’ll be fine,’ or ‘I’ll make sure you don’t go postal’. Probably because neither was possible. So, at least he knew the cop wasn’t a liar.

  “How close is he right now?” Landon asked quietly.

  Mitch looked within, judging himself, weighing the pain he felt. “Pretty fucking close.”

  “She gave me something.” He pulled a large syringe out of his pocket and set it on the coffee table.

  “What is it?”

  “They gave it to her.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t think she would ever go for a needle, but at least they aren’t sneaking into her cereal anymore.”

  “It’s not for her.”

  Mitch froze mid-breath. His gaze briefly leaving the syringe to look at the cop, see if he was joking. “Me? It’s for me?”

  “It’s the serum. They want you to be you enough to come in. I’m guessing they consider it a gift.”

  A laugh died in his throat as he stared at the shit. The shit that symbolized the last fifteen years of his life. Lies, deceit, lack of choice. It would’ve been funny if it weren’t so damned serious. Did they actually believe he would take this and come in willingly? After what they’d done to him? After what they’d done to her?

  “You need to go talk to her.” He put out his hand as Mitch started to tell him off. “It’s no longer optional. The Clinic told her about you. They said it will get harder—keeping him subdued. The longer you’re without the serum, the worse it’ll get. And then you’ll turn again and…you might not be able to come back”—he tapped the side of his head—“home.”

  Well, wasn’t that the best news he could’ve heard. But damn it, if it made sense. Over all those years of being secretly doped, he’d been able to control Hyde better. Damn it, he’d been able to control himself better. Sure, it had taken a lot of effort, hurt a lot of feelings, but he’d been in control. Kind of. Happy, happy days.

  Fuck. Would things really be better if he took their goddamned serum again? Would his life be easier knowing that shit was flowing through his veins? Or would giving them yet-another piece of himself just make him so fucking angry that he wouldn’t be able to live with himself anyway?

  “Would you take it, if you were me?” Mitch asked.

  “Hell no. I agree with you. There’s no way to know what they’d give you now. So unless it gets to the point of no return—literally—I wouldn’t touch that thing. But you still need to talk to her. Even as a kid, I hated playing telephone. I’m tired of being the go-between.”

  Mitch nodded. “You’re right. That isn’t what I’m paying you for.”

  He glanced around the room. “Although, I have yet to actually do what you’re paying me for.”

  “You mean cleaning up the mess?” Mitch laughed. “Dude, housekeeping aside, you’ve been cleaning up after me for weeks.”

  The corners of Landon’s mouth curled, but the smile never took root. Understandable—what did either of them really have to smile about? “It’s just a little bit longer. We’ve been sitting on our asses waiting for something to happen for too long. Now we have a chance to make something happen. Let’s not blow it.”

  Mitch picked up The Clinic’s ‘gift’ and rolled it between his fingers. He’d spent the last two weeks doing absolutely nothing but worrying about the woman upstairs. And now that she was finally here, within his grasp, he was acting like a frozen popsicle—back to doing nothing but waiting to melt or be consumed.

  Landon was right.

  Time to move, asshole. Time to do something. He took a deep breath and hauled his ass of the couch. “Alright, cop. I’ll talk to her. But I need a chaperone.”

  “No shit.”

  CHAPTER XV

  Eden sat up on the mattress when she heard footsteps on the stairs. Two sets. Her heart sped, and she smoothed down her dress as she stood. Really? This isn’t a date. He wasn’t going to chat about the good old days or apologize for all his screaming and angry foreplay-slash-coercion. She had no idea what he would say, but it was a sure bet that their last few conversations probably hadn’t cleared everything up.

  Mitch stopped at the doorway, taking a deep breath before he came into the room. His eyes avoided the cage, as if nothing inside of it could hold his attention and even the floor was more interesting than she was.

  What could she possibly say that he’d believe?

  The only one who looked halfway-normal was Landon, who was prodding Mitch in the back to make him move.

  “Sit down,” Landon said t
o him, pointing to the bed. “Just shove my stuff out of the way.”

  As he did, Eden imagined it was probably the only time in Mitch’s life that he’d obeyed someone.

  “Alright, kids. Here’s what’s gonna happen: Eden—”

  Mitch flinched.

  Landon rolled his eyes. “Eden is going to start talking. Turner is going to sit here until she’s done. And I am going to be quiet unless things turn ugly”— he looked pointedly at Mitch—“and I have to shoot someone.” Then he looked at her. “Okay, go.”

  Eden shifted from one leg to another. “I’m not sure what to say.” She couldn’t keep her eyes off Mitch, even though he still wasn’t looking at her. His face was bruised, and his body sagged in the chair.

  “Tell him what they told you.” Landon stood next to the dresser, leaning against the wall, watching them both. “About you and about him.”

  She tried to keep it short, hitting only the high points. That there were others like them who The Clinic was trying to help, that she’d spoken to one of them, and that they seemed happy. Or as happy as one could be.

  Mitch sighed a lot, shook his head and rolled his eyes a few times, but didn’t say anything.

  When she started to tell him what Alex had said about her DNA, that it might be the key to a cure, she saw his hands grip the bedspread, crush it in his fists. She hesitated, afraid of telling him too much when he still wasn’t ready to hear it. Maybe she’d started in the wrong place. The reason he wasn’t listening was because he didn’t trust her. He didn’t believe she was still her.

  “Mitch?” she asked. “Mitch, I’m still me. Or maybe I’m finally me. No serum, no lies, no Chastity. Just…me. My eyes are different and little pieces, I guess. But inside…I’m the same person I was. I don’t know how to make you believe me. I wish I did. What can I do?”

  When he raised his chin and their eyes locked on each other’s, she wanted to cry. Hell, maybe she already was crying. Silent tears from somewhere deep inside. Ones that didn’t dare show themselves for fear he’d ridicule them.

  “Tell me who you really are,” he said, his voice emotionless.

  She wanted to look away, break eye-contact, but she couldn’t. She knew that her eyes were part of the cause of his distrust and by seeing them, he could pretend she was someone else.

  “The Clinic believes—”

  “I don’t give a shit what The Clinic believes. I want to know the truth. And since I can’t have that, then I want to know what you think the truth is.”

  She felt her frustration become anger, lifting her chest, giving her strength. “Fine. Here’s the truth: I am whole now. I used to be someone who was always afraid, always hoping she was doing the right thing, because that was the only way to feel safe. I hid behind a false sense of propriety, of selflessness. But that’s changed. And you helped it along. The truth”—she spat out the word to rid the bitter taste it left on her tongue—“is that my ‘evil’ side wasn’t all that evil. Sure, she had her…quirks, but she also got some things right. She was strong and knew how to take care of herself. That’s the part of her that meshed with the weak, useless person I was.”

  “Eden isn’t weak,” he said through his teeth.

  “Did you just hear the one word, or were you actually listening?”

  “She isn’t weak.”

  “Stop saying ‘she’, I’m still Eden. Me. But I’m not weak anymore.”

  He glared at her. “Not weak.”

  “I’m not going to argue with you over semantics when there’s way more important stuff to argue about. Fine, I wasn’t weak. I was…what? Resilient?” Because I could take a licking and keep on kicking…weakly. “Is that a good enough word?”

  He tilted his head slightly. “One of many I might use to describe her.”

  “Me. And thank you…I think.”

  “If you were Eden, you’d know. You’d know how to walk into a room and make it impossible for anyone to remember their pain. And if she could do it for me, she could do it for anyone. She knew how to make people better simply by wanting it for them. She isn’t weak. She’s stronger than any of us.”

  He stood up slowly and took a step towards her, his voice lowering in pitch and volume. “When I looked into her eyes, I saw her soul. But I also saw myself, a better me—as if she loved so deeply, she’d brought me to a kinder, safer place inside of her.”

  She swallowed, wishing he’d believe it was still possible with the woman she was now. “I’ve changed, but I haven’t lost everything. We can still have something great.”

  He shook his head, his eyes slightly glazed. “It never made sense to me that we had four days together. Because four days was still so much more than I deserved. And I know I should be thankful for that time.” He grimaced. “Fuck, I know that alone should bring me to my knees in appreciation. But I can’t.” It was as if he wanted to stay trapped in a memory, mourning someone who was still alive but who he couldn’t see, even though she was standing right in front of him. “Because I’m too damn selfish.”

  He came to the cage and rested his forehead against the bars. “You see, even if I’m never allowed to touch her again, I want her to be able to touch someone else.” His voice dropped down to a whisper she wasn’t sure Landon was able to hear. But she did. Words meant for her ears alone, ones that she never imagined Mitch would speak, found their way to where they belonged.

  “Because until I knew her,” he said, “I thought that beauty was something you touch. It’s not. It’s something you feel. Something you know is in front of you even when your eyes are closed. And now, all I see is darkness. And I won’t believe that she’s returned until the lights come back on.”

  She wanted to reach out, put her fingers through his hair, cup his face in her hands, make his regret disappear. But she didn’t move. Because there was too much to lose. “Then close your eyes, Mitch. Close your eyes and see me.” Tears slid down her cheeks. “But see me as I am now. Not who you think I was. Because that woman was never real. I’m real. And I’m here.”

  He flinched back from the bars as if he’d been shot. Like the quick breath he sucked in was his last. “Don’t you dare tell me she isn’t real! You don’t get to talk about her. You don’t have the right.”

  Landon pushed off the wall and stepped forward. Mitch glanced at him. “I’m fine, Landon. Believe me, you’ll know when I’m not.”

  “Forgive me for being cautious.”

  “I promised I would behave. And I will. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to stretch my legs, does it?”

  “Play nice, Turner.”

  Mitch nodded. “I’m all done.”

  Landon sighed. “Good luck, Eden.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” she said, solely to Mitch. “Because you won’t listen anyway. You talk about not being able to see me, but that’s because you’re not even trying. You don’t seem to care that I was unconscious for two weeks. You don’t seem to care that I was just as confused as you are when I woke up. Maybe more because I was surrounded by people I feared while you’re with people who love you. And you don’t seem to be able to hear that I’ve accepted myself—all of me, both of me, whatever you want to call it.”

  “So you combined the best of both sides? That’s it? Well…lucky you.” He fell into the chair, his arms wide open, his mind tightly closed.

  “You know what? I’m not perfect. I wasn’t then, in either form, and I’m not now. But at least I’m trying. At least I’m not afraid of who I am anymore. Believe me or don’t believe me. But that’s not why I’m here.”

  “Why are you here?”

  ”All I want…” She swallowed before her tough-girl voice betrayed her. Now was not the time for emotion. “All I want is the same thing for you. I want you to be whole. I want you to be safe. That’s why I came back here. Not because of them, because of you. And they want the same frigging thing. If you weren’t so goddamn stubborn, you’d be able to see that.”

  “Good,” he said, n
odding. “Let’s talk about them. They told you they want us to be ‘whole’ and ‘safe’?” He chuckled bitterly, his smile tight. “You’re delusional if you think they give a shit about how we feel. Maybe you really are Eden. Because Eden is the only fucking person I know who would be so trusting of the people who doped us, killed my sister, and tried to kill you.”

  “They didn’t kill your sister or try to kill me. That was Jolie, not them. And yes, they doped us, but what would’ve happened if they hadn’t? Your sister would probably still be dead, except it would’ve been you who killed her. Just like your father.”

  He winced as the words flew out of her mouth.

  But it was too late to go back now. “Suck it up, Mitch. You want to talk truth? Well, that’s the truth. You know it, I know it, and even Landon knows it. Right?” She glanced at Landon who looked dazed, as if he’d been so focused on what might happen, that he’d stopped listening to what was happening.

  “But you don’t really want to hear the truth, do you, Mitch? You’d rather stay locked in your own prejudices than see any other side of things. How’s that working for you?” Her breath was shallow, frustration tightening her chest. “Let me guess. Hyde is harder to deal with. Nothing that worked before is working now. You’re afraid of him. More than you used to be. And that’s because you’re changing too. You think it’s just me, but it’s not. It’s you too. You don’t believe I’m not Chastity—fine. I can’t force you. And I don’t give a shit if you believe The Clinic has your best interests at heart. Because ultimately, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that they are the only ones who can stop you from becoming Hyde permanently. That’s all the truth you need to know.”

  “Nice speech. Did they give you a script to memorize or are you just improvising?”

  “Why are you being so goddamn stupid? Give them a chance. One more chance. Don’t you want it all to stop? To be cured?”