Yesterday (18+)

9

Mariah

Hybristophilia: an attraction to dangerous people or being sexually aroused by a criminal offender.

I stroked his cheek and hummed a little song to him.
He loved a couple songs, but his favorite was "Amazing Grace".
As soon as I started humming, I could feel him beginning to relax.
"You're going to be okay, Addy," I murmured. 
His wet hair was getting me wet too but I didn't mind.  I loved this man. Regardless of everything that I knew he had done. Maybe I was just as broken as he was too.
"I loved her," he slurred. "I didn't mean .... I didn't mean to kill her. I loved her."
I knew who he was talking about, but I didn't dare comment on that. 
"It's not your fault you're this way," I answered.
" Do you think she hates me?"
" No. I believe she forgave you a long time ago."
He sighed. I noticed his hands were shaking slightly.
" Do you need a cigarette? "
" I want to quit, " he answered burying his face further into my chest. " Keep singing to me."

He had barely fallen asleep when I woke him up again and helped him dry off, get dressed, and into bed. I tucked the blanket all around him and gave him a soft kiss on the forehead.
He looked so vulnerable. So very, very, vulnerable.
I sat at the edge of our bed, stroking his cheek and humming.
His eyes fluttered shut and his head rolled to the side.
" Good night, Adam, " I said.
I made no move to get up. I just stayed, staring at this vulnerable man in front of me. I loved nights like tonight. When he was so stressed and overwhelmed that the only way he could cope was to go back to a time he felt safe and at peace.
My heart broke for him. No one should have had to go through what he was put through at such a young age.
I remember the first time we met. I was running my uncle's shop while he was out getting violently drunk.
Adam came in in search of bandages. He was sixteen at the time and I was an eighteen year old, paramedic student. 
He tried to hide his scars well, I gave him A for effort. But I saw right through the hiding. The pain in his face when he spoke was undeniable.
I helped him find the bandages he was looking for and insisted he let me look at  the injuries. I think he liked me a little bit. That's why he even let me get that close.
We went to the backroom where he got defensive when I tried to lift his shirt. He stood against the wall and slid down to a seating position. He looked so completely defeated and sad. That was the first time I experienced heart break.
I had gone to him and sat down beside him. I held his hands and we sat there in the longest silence. Finally I begged him to let me see letting him know it could get infected if it wasn't treated.
He let me lift his shirt up, wincing hard every time it caught on one of his wounds.
I had gasped in shock and horror when I saw what they had done to him. It took me a moment to compose myself. I quickly got to work and took care of him.  Even though I had to use alcohol and give him several stitches he barely moved. It was as if he was so used to pain that it almost barely registered anymore.
When I was done he got up, pulled his shirt back up, and gave me a tight smile.
With that, he left.
I didn't see him for another two weeks but he was all I could think of. 
The next time I saw him he came in three different times to buy trash bags, matches,  chlorine, and a butcher knife.
Most people wouldn't have even paid attention to the items bought separately but I did for some reason.
The fourth time when he came in for the knife I whispered to him that I was there to help in any way that I could and that I was not afraid of any blood.
He took me up on my offer. Surprisingly.
I was not ready for what I saw when he brought me to his house on his bike.
At first when I had been outside, it looked perfect. A big, fairly new country farmhouse with the prettiest flower garden I had ever seen.
I don't think I knew exactly what I was getting myself into. A part of me knew he must have killed someone, but the realization didn't hit until he opened the door and I stepped in.
The worst stench I had ever smelled hit my nose at full force. I pinched my nose and  held my breath but even then I could still smell it. My eyes watered from the offensive odor.
I heard the sound of a million flies.  The sound was deafening. First it was my nose that had been violated. Now my ears.
He took my hand and led me towards the living room. The closer we got the louder the buzzing sound got. My heart tried to beat out of my chest. This was happening, I was really going to see dead bodies. For the first time with him, I was a little scared.
When we rounded the corner and came to the doorway of the living room, I gagged again and had to turn away to throw up.
All the food that I had ate previously came up in a fast wave and splatted on the floor.
" I knew you were too weak for this," Adam had said. I looked at him and he seemed disappointed. I didn't want him to be disappointed. Not at me. I wiped the back of my hand over my lips and straightened up.
"I am not weak."