The Grim Reaper’s Mate

Chocolate Lady

David POV

I couldn't stop staring at her. Her beauty knows no bounds. I was concerned that changing her hair would be the final straw that caused her to break down. Poor kid has really been through a lot. I've been waiting for it all to hit her and her to just lose it, but she's been calm and maybe even...excited? Like she's glad I killed her dad, kidnapped her, brought her home with me, and now I am posing as her boyfriend. I mean, it sounds messed up. Like, really messed up, even to a member of the mafia like me, and I've seen a lot of crazy stuff in my time.

She giggled happily as she swished her hair from side to side, admiring the color job that Patty had done on her. She looked like a completely different person. Patty had gone with a dark brown that was almost black. It was cut and styled in a vintage look that curled just below her shoulders. Her blue eyes sparkled brightly like stars against the night sky. She looked like a goddess with her long white hair, but she looks like a temptress with this look.

I shifted uncomfortably as I felt a rising attraction to her. I'm supposed to keep her safe. That...thing...that happened between us in her tent? Yeah. That can't happen again. I'm not ready to be dragged to Hell yet. How am I supposed to resist her, and where is this attraction even coming from? It almost feels like it's imposed on me. She's both an angel and a demon, and that can change as quickly as dying her hair. Grim Reaper is going to come for my neck for this. I just know it. I keep feeling like every shadow is him watching me, waiting for me to screw up and bring about my own demise.

She hopped up from the chair and looked down at the white locks on the floor. Finally I saw some sadness flicker briefly across her face.

"Miss Patty?" She asked.

"Yes, m'dear?"

"May I keep a lock of my old hair?"

"Of course, darling. Hang on! I have just the thing for you!" Miss Patty ran to her back room and came out with a colorful envelope with flowers and butterflies on it. She extended it to Christine, um, Angel. "I have these for little girls when they come get their hair cut for the first time. Inevitably, the mommas will want to keep some of the baby hair. You pick whatever lock of hair you wish and put it in here, dear. Guard it closely. It's still who you are."

Angel smiled and bent down, picking out a shorter lock of her hair. Miss Patty picked another longer strand from a bunch on the floor and used it to tie the lock into a bundle. Angel took it and thanked her, leaving the shop ahead of me with tears brimming in her eyes.

"Poor dear. It must be hard on her. You be good to her, David, you hear me?" Patty waved a finger in my face.

"Yes ma'am!" I answered, saluting her playfully.

"Don't you mock me, boy! I know where you live!" She threatened, and then her face turned serious. "Just before you arrived a very handsome man in a black suit came here. Scared me to death. He ordered me to save some hair from the head of the next person I dressed up and to give it to her male companion. I did a quick, small braid and cut it without Angel's knowledge. Here, this is for you," Patty quickly slipped me a braid of white hair with a shaking hand. "Tell the man I did as he asked."

"I'm sure he already knows," I murmured, certain that I knew exactly who the 'man' was. I'd better not tell Patty she interacted with the Grim Reaper. And his message is clear: don't hurt a hair on her head. Remember who she is. She's not my girlfriend. She's an innocent girl with a chance to start a new life, and I'm a dead man working for both the mob and the Grim Reaper. Life is so unfair.

I tucked the precious hair into my pocket and headed out after Angel.

"Miss Patty likes to talk," I explained with a lighthearted laugh. I hope she can't hear the nervousness in my voice. Angel smiled at me.

"I caught on to that. She had a lot to say while she was cutting my hair! I like her, though. She's real. I haven't interacted with people who didn't want something from me in a long time," she sighed and looked into the distance. Was she reliving memories? Or looking forward to new ones? It's hard to tell. She's difficult to read.

"Let's go back to the candy shop. The kids will have spread the word that I'm back by now, and I'm sure there will be a line waiting for me," I told her.

"Okay. Should we hold hands or something? To make it more authentic?" She asked.

Why did she have to make this hard? Physical contact should be a big no-no... "Yeah. That will make it more authentic," I heard myself answer. She took my hand, and I have to admit that her hand fits in mine nicely. If I hadn't already died, I might think we were meant to be. Except, I know the truth, and I know that a girl like her would have never fallen for a guy like me before I died. This time is like living in a dream and a nightmare at the same time. She's oblivious to the truth that is glaring at me.

"So how did it happen?" She asked casually. I jumped. How did she know I had died? And why did she want to know about it? Is she morbid? I swallowed hard and tried to act natural.

"How did what happen?"

"How did you end up being the candy man here in the second district?"

Oh. Oh. Whew. What a relief!

"It was originally just an empty shop that I stayed in, but the police got suspicious, so the boss decided to turn it into a candy shop. My cohorts get free candies for their kids, boss gets a little extra money that he doesn't need, and I am less suspicious. It was a good cover. What police officer would suspect a mob member to be the friendly middle class candy man?" I explained.

"That makes sense," she nodded. "So what does that make me?"

"I guess you'll just be the candy man's girlfriend for the time being," I said. She pouted out her lip. I guess that wasn't the answer she was expecting.

"I wouldn't mind trying to be a chocolatier. Could I perhaps be the chocolate lady if you're the candy man?" She requested. Where are her thoughts? I chuckled. What an interesting woman.

"Have you ever done anything with chocolate other than eat it?"

"Well, I helped Cook make chocolates for a party once," she said hopefully.

"For a party...once?" I teased. She frowned at me.

"It can't be too hard! Pour melted chocolate into a mold, and you let it cool. Boom! Pretty chocolates!" She declared. Does she really think it's going to be that easy? I might as well humor her.

"Sure. That doesn't sound too hard or expensive. I'll ask the boss to add chocolate molds to the next shipment and tell him there's been a sudden interest in bonbons," I said, meaning it to be sarcastic until I saw her hopeful expression.

"I'll make the best chocolates in the city! Just wait! My chocolate will become famous!" She declared.

"I'm sure it will," I laughed.