Page 42 of Kisses and Lies

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They simply don’t care.

They’re dead.

And it’s the reason I love this job so much.

But the dead also deserve respect.

No matter how vile or evil they are, their soul is gone, and their body is left. I take great pride in doing what I do—my cuts are flawless, precise, and the care I take is perfect.

For someone who is about to burn them that is.

They come to me in usually pristine condition, unless they don’t have loved ones or were involved in a terrible accident. Their hair is combed, and they’re dressed in their best outfits. It’s the bad ones, or the homeless ones, or those who have no one that I take extra care of. Even the ones Blaze brings to me. I know he has his reasons, and I don’t question them, but I still treat them respectfully.

I do it to help him, and I do it to cut.

I like to cut.

I love the sound of the saw.

Removing the first hand, I place it in a plastic bag and look up. When I do, Rochelle is standing there with Blaze next to her, a grin gracing his lips. Her eyes are wide, and there’s fear evident in them. Removing the gloves, and not even bothering with the music, I walk to where she’s standing. She steps back, and her hands go up as if warning me not to touch her.

“I know that person.”

Fuck, of course she does.

Her eyes lift from him to lock on to me. “You look comfortable, more relaxed than I’ve ever seen you,” she says while shaking her head. “How is that possible? How do you like that?” She nods, and I turn to see Blaze watching our exchange.

He’s never inside. Ever.

“You had to bring her in, didn’t you?”

Blaze shrugs. “She saw you… the real you.” Blaze turns to her. “Tell him what you saw.”

She does as if she’s on autopilot. “You were smiling as you cut into him. You were smiling through your mask.” Rochelle shakes her head. “I rarely get smiles like that.” The music from the room thumps and she shakes her head. “I have to try to accept this side of you if I want you, don’t I?” Then her eyes go back to the room, and she shivers. “He served me coffee. Creepy coffee guy, I used to call him.”

“He was more than creepy,” Blaze harrumphs next to us.

I turn, and without thinking, clock him one right in the fucking jaw. Hard.

Blaze falls backward and clutches where I hit him. “What the fuck,” he screams, wiping the blood from his lip. “She asked to see you, so I brought her in,” he mumbles, then he says something else as he walks out shaking his head, but I don’t catch it.

Turning back to Rochelle, she’s biting her bottom lip as she shyly looks up to me.

“I like you, Marcus, that is obvious. But this…” her eyes flick behind me, “… I don’t like to see this.”

“You don’t have to see this. It’s simple. Don’t come here.” My words seem harsher than I mean for them to be. “You don’t have to come here,” I say to her again, this time softer and with more care.

“I know. I was driving past, and I wanted to see when you were finished for the night.” Rochelle steps back, and I know she’s going to leave.

“I’ll be finished in an hour.”

She turns, giving me her back when she walks out. “I’ll go home. See you after.”

Rochelle doesn’t give me a chance to respond, she leaves.

Walking back in, I turn the music off, my mood having significantly changed. Covering the body back up, I slide it to the cremator and push it in, letting it burn.

I would have spent up to an hour on that body.

Cutting. Spending time expelling my demons.

Now I can’t even stand to look at it.

Walking out, I see her. She didn’t leave like she said she was going to. She’s sitting on the ground, much like where I first saw her that time she was here for her grandparents. I was shocked by her, a beautiful woman lying on the ground. She had all that hurt written on her face. So much so I had to take a deeper look. I had to know why, and what put that there. A girl as beautiful as her shouldn’t carry such monsters around with her.

I watch as her eyes close the closer I get. She knows it’s me because she doesn’t move.

“I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you. It’s what pulled me to you,” I tell her honestly.

Rochelle opens her eyes at my words. “I thought the same thing about you.”

“That I was beautiful?” I smirk.

“No, that you were the most attractive man I’d ever laid my eyes on. And beyond that, you held something I was searching for that I didn’t know I needed.”


Tags: T.L. Smith Romance