Heart of Gold
"You’re so beautiful," I whispered, extending my arm. "I don’t deserve you." Her delicate blue eyes grew wider in the moonlight. You could spot every star inside of them.
"Don’t say that, babe," Grace implored. She laced her fingers with mine. They were barely poking out of her sweater. She was always so cold. "What we have… it’s wonderful. Real. You’re everything."
The fire crackled in the background as crickets sounded off, maybe cicadas. They were nestled in the pine trees that circled us. If you kept still and calmed your breathing, you could even hear the river’s gentle flow. It was everything we’d wanted. To get away. An escape where there’d be zero distractions. Only each other.
I softly chuckled, "Don’t say that. Please."
"Jess," she strained, "Is something wrong?" There was a moment of silence as I put my head down. "Just tell me—
"No, um," my voice trembled. "I just… can’t believe we’re here. Together." Awestruck, she clutched her necklace before standing and walking towards me, soon sitting in my lap.
"You know what I think? I think that you are afraid. Always have been."
"And just what am I afraid of?"
"Spiders?"
"No, that’s you."
"Hmm. What about heights?" Her tone was disingenuous, overt in its sarcasm. Resigned, I simply glared, absent response. "Me again, huh? Well, maybe this will refresh my memory." Her eyelids gently fell as her lips drew closer. The second they touched mine, a wave of bliss washed over me. It's not often I feel truly powerless. Rather than scary, it was beautiful. Relieving. To just be able to let go. I’d never known what it was like to give into another person before she came along. I don’t think she realized I was completely at her mercy in those moments. Or maybe she had. Our mouths parted. "That’s what it is. You, gorgeous, are afraid to be happy."
"Uh," I could feel tears welling up, my cheeks flush. "You might be right, babe." She then placed her head on my shoulder.
"I know you don’t believe in god. But how else do you explain it?" Her every word was caressing my neck.
"What?"
"Us. You and me. Not many people find true love, y’know. But the ones that do? They can’t deny what’s out there."
"Well, your father would disagree—
"My father… never knew what he had. He was a drunk."
"Yeah, a religious drunk," I chortled, stroking her soft, blonde hair. "What a combination."
"Do you remember the day we met," she asked, clutching her necklace. Of all times to get nostalgic.
"Doesn't that water look cold?"
"Huh?"
"The river. You never did like the water." There was a pause; my awkward attempt to change the subject thinly-veiled.
"You tried teaching me to fish that one day."
"Yeah, and you caught the biggest fucking catfish the world's ever seen."
"And then threw it back because I'm such a soft-serve. You were pissed."
"Hell yeah. Perfectly fine dinner, right there."
"...you haven't answered my question." Grace was being persistent. Wouldn't let it go. And why should she?
"Speaking of your dad. He gave you this, right?" I already knew the answer. We talked about it after having slept together for the first time. I was stalling.
"He did. But—
"It's beautiful. Like you."
"How many times you gonna call me that?" She sighed before looking down at her pendant. "Everyone knows my dad was an asshole. As far as being a Christian, well. That wasn't bullshit. At least, not always. On his worst day, when he drove home from the bar after work, slamming into a telephone pole, nearly killing that little girl and her mother, he waddled his reckless ass home and gave me this. It wasn't long before the sirens went off. A few days later, we went down to visit him in jail. Before asking if he was okay, or, shit, more importantly, the innocent people he struck," she started crying. I'm such an asshole for making her relive it. I wiped away one stream of tears from her cheek. The other had already cascaded onto my leg. "I had to know why he gave me this necklace. And you know what he said?! That I had a—
"Heart of gold. Only the necklace was silver. I remember, now."
"Was all he could afford. Through all the bullshit. Despite all of the horrible things he did, I still remember that. There was a good man in there. A loving husband and father!"
"Grace, I'm..."
"So you tell me why you're avoiding my question. Why won't you ever let me get close to you?! If he managed to tell me how he felt in the middle of a murderous bender, why the hell can't the woman I love?!" Fuck me.
"I'm not good with feelings." I motioned to get up. She jumped off my lap.
"That excuse is getting tired, Jess. Wasn't it you who said you couldn't 'wait' to get me alone, just the two of us, away from our dark pasts and shitty-ass lives??" Then I started to sob. Hard to believe, I know. Nobody asks to be vulnerable. We all want to keep our guards up. At least until you fall for someone. That's when you're supposed to let them in. It was already hard for me to begin with.
"Because it hurts!"
"What does?"
"Everything! No one's ever looked out for me!"
"Jess..."
"Please stop! Stop, just fucking stop!" She was used to my intensity. Well, at least the watered down version I keep on display. But. This was different. I was... totally exposed.
"Whoa, hey. C'mere. I've never seen you like this." We embraced. For once I felt like someone truly understood me. I was in hysterics. "Shh, babe, it's ok. We'll work through it. This is what I want. For you to let me in so I can help you."
"You can't help me!"
"I can if you just—
She didn't see me pick up my gun. Knew that I had one and that I brought it. But not that I'd use it on her. I'm not proud of myself in case you're wondering. It was one clean shot through her temple. Her lifeless body fell against mine. I laid her down, hurried away and threw up. I knew then that there was no living with this one. And every time I'd regain even a semblance of composure, there she was. Somehow still just as beautiful in the moonlight only now... her spark was gone. Snuffed out. I didn't think I deserved better. Fell in with a group who do this for money. Then when I wanted out, they made it clear that either me or her would be the next to go. If I carried it out, I was free. But I'm not stupid. They were gonna kill me anyway. So. Here we are. I'm a goddamn coward who deserves to suffer. That's why I called you, detective.