Finding Romeo

Chapter 24

(Talia's POV)

Romeo's sweet words telling me that I wasn't a train wreck was like being wrapped in a warm blanket, calming my nerves and making me feel at home with him. The man was amazing with words, which surprised me as to why he was single. Or at least I assumed he was, after all he had said to me in the past and the fact that he didn't have a ring on his finger, it only made sense.

We sat together talking, time passing quickly without me even realizing it. We asked each other questions, trying to get to know each other better. The one thing that rang over and over in my head though, was his real name, which after some time of prying and convincing, he told me.

Chris Kale.

A strong name, but simple with a kind ring to it. Even though it suited him, after knowing him as Romeo, even for the short time that I had, he would always be Romeo to me. He looked more relieved than disappointed when I decided to continue calling him Romeo.

I tried to keep from the darker subjects, noting that anytime I mentioned his father or his past, he tensed up and flirted to get around answering to much.

So I tried asking about normal things that you would ask when you were trying to get to know someone, but he skirted around any subjects related to food or too much into how he lived. He would stiffen and his ears would get tinge pink, like he was embarrassed of how he lived.

I couldn't blame him for dodging subjects though, because I was doing the same thing with the questions he asked about my past. I wasn't sure how much he knew, but I wasn't willing to share that just yet. I wasn't ready to think too much about my past, since I moved away from my family and separated from them completely, I kept my mind on the present and future. Thinking of them just took up space in my mind and it was no use to me. They could live their lives as heartless, emotionless, hollow shells filled with the stench of deception and fraudulence, but I was after something much more. I wasn't really there yet, still trying to pull myself out of my old ways and habits, but that didn't mean I wouldn't make it to where I wanted to be.

Romeo seemed good and it was like I was being drawn to him for a reason. Like it was trying to tell me that Romeo was the way to go, that he would be able to get me on track for a more honest life.

I wasn't embarrassed about how I lived now like he seemed to be about how he did, so his favorite topics seemed to include that and things about me.

"When is your birthday?" Romeo showed her his writing on the marker board, his hands at this point looked more like he had been painting something with his hands instead of just wiping away marker.

"I would have thought you had looked up enough on me to already know the answer to that," I said, trying to figure out where exactly that information would be online. I tried to keep things on the down low, but keeping a hacker that was better than even me out of private information online was nearly impossible. Maybe I should have hired that man to give me a new identity instead of going at it myself.

He just tilted his head slightly to the side, his lips twitching in amusement, but his eyes stayed locked on mine, piercing with interest.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "July 26th."

He nodded, seemingly pleased.

"When is yours?" I asked him. Hey, if he wanted me to share information, he better be willing to do the same.

His expression changed and his face dimmed slightly, slowly turning the marker board around and wiping away the marker to write something else. "I don't know."

Now it was my turn to frown. How could he not know what day he was born? "Well, what day do you celebrate it on?"

An embarrassed blush climbed up his neck and his eyes moved to the floor, his eyebrows furrowing in thought. He didn't respond for a long time, seemingly lost in a memory or in thought and I wondered why the question was so hard for him to answer.

Was his father really so horrid that he hadn't bothered to celebrate his own sons birthday? Now, thinking back on my visit with the man, it didn't surprise me. Anyone willing to spread rumors like he had about his own son, wasn't the kind of man who deserved to be a father.

I tried not to show any pity on my face, instead trying to think of something else to say. I wonder how accidental I could make it look if I took a tumble off the couch. I was pretty good at acting, but Romeo always seemed so in tune with who I was, that it was like he could see through any disguise I put on. He was intelligent, he had the gleam in his eyes to show it, even now when he looked up with uncertainty and sadness, it still shone through.

So instead of faking a tumble off the couch, I waiting for him to write down his thoughts. When he did, it surprised me, because I wasn't seeing the romantic, flirtatious man that I was used to. I was finally seeing who he was, as Chris Kale.

* * *

(Romeo's Pov)

How did I tell her something that I hadn't thought about in so many years that if felt more like a horrible nightmare than a memory? How did I tell her without her pitying me? Or worse, doubting me?

No one's life was normal, but mine felt worse than anyone else's, possibly because it was mine. My past. My pain. My nightmare. Every part of it was torturous, like monsters clawing at my soul, grasping at me and dragging me back down from her light into the depths of despair and sorrow.

I had looked up into her breathtaking eyes, feeling myself slip into the memory. Instead of hiding it all inside, my hand wrote everything down, the words flowing from within me like a dam breaking.

I never knew my mother, at least not in the sense that people normally knew the woman who had brought them into the world. The memory was fuzzy from being shoved into the back of my mind and suppressed for so long. What had happened that day had been clear as day. Unlike other kids, I had had no toys, just whatever I could find lying around, usually consisting of random computer parts. That day had been no different, I sat playing around with them, twisting wires together to make something that had somehow made sense in my young, restless mind. Too young to know any better, I had hooked up the wires wrong, creating a very crude and makeshift stun gun, instead of just finish a keyboard.

I still remember the sound it made when my mother had stumbled into the room and came into contact with it. The smell of acrid scent of burning flesh still lingered in the edge of my memory, too horrible to forget.

I had sat on the floor, gaping in shock and horror as she froze and twitched, the electric buzzing and snapping until the breaker in the house popped, the room going dark.

She fell to the floor, her body landing with a soft thud, her thin body too frail to make much noise.

The soft breathing escaping her lips had been my only relief, at least until he came in. I can still remember the thuds of his footsteps of his footsteps, his angry voice a loud roar in my mind. He had grabbed her limp body off the floor, tossing her across the room in rage. "You stupid bitch, we was so close to getting into that bank account. Do you know how much money we would have had?"

Her eyes had barely opened, taking in the expression on his face. Her eyes had flickered to mine, her eyes not even open enough for me to remember their color. "You're right, it's my fault." She whispered, covering for me while I sat and cried on the floor, panicking and afraid for what I had done.

"You're more trouble than you're worth," My father had said, then continued on his raging rant, dragging her into another room, his words muffled.

The one thing I remember clearly, was the loud bang that followed shortly after.

That had been the last time I had seen my mother and the only real memory I had of her. I caused my own mother's death, cowering on the floor while she took the blame.

That had been the last time I had cried, until now.