Page 19 of Jezebel’s Liberation (Hellfire Hackers #1)

“ A nd that’s our cue to leave.”

Soul tries to grab Malice’s arm, but Malice yanks out of his grip. They stare one another down, and as I watch them, I hear Phantom whisper something to Jez, but I can’t make out the words.

“Soul,” Jez begins, walking toward her twin. “Why don’t you and Grim wait outside? I think it’s about time Malice and Demon have a come to Jesus conversation.”

Soul frowns, his worry crease so damn prominent, but after a few seconds, he jerks a nod.

“Come on, Grim,” he signs to the biggest man in the room.

The two of them leave, and I have no doubt they’ll be waiting just outside on the porch. Then Jez moves to grab Phantom’s arm.

“Let’s give them some time,” she says, and they head upstairs.

Once my brother and I are alone, the air seems to leave the room. Sweat beads on my forehead and slides down my spine. My stomach twists to the point of pain, and my heart—the fucking traitor—splinters at the fury in Malice’s eyes.

When I can’t stand the suffocating silence a second longer, I demand, “Would that be so fucking bad?”

He flinches as if I punched him and drops to the couch. “I…”

“You what?” I say, my tone cold and emotionless.

“Dammit, Mark!” he shouts.

“It’s Demon, Paul .”

I begin to pace, needing to burn off some of the energy threatening to eat me alive. Malice tracks my steps, his eyes glued to my feet.

One step. Two. Three. Four.

Jez is right, and you need to talk to him.

Eight. Nine. Ten.

Where do I even start?

Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen.

What will he think about you when you tell him about Stewart and Ted?

Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.

And what the hell am I supposed to say about Phantom?

Twenty-nine. Thirty. Thirty-one.

This is how it goes for several minutes… me counting and thoughts racing.

“Sit the fuck down and talk to me,” he finally orders, but not until I’ve reached step one hundred and thirty-two.

Luckily, I’m in front of the other couch because my knees practically give out at his command, and I sink onto the cushion. Still, I don’t say anything.

“Shit,” he mutters. “To answer your question, no, you liking dick isn’t bad. I don’t give a flying fuck if you stuff holes or get yours stuffed.”

I huff out a breath. “Clearly, or you wouldn’t have left after killing Brine and Block.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” he snaps. “You’ve made comments like that and hinted around at something from the moment you showed up with Apple, and I’m damn tired of it.”

I level my eyes on his, and for the first time, I allow myself to really see the confusion in his stare.

“How is it that you don’t know?” I ask quietly.

Malice throws his hands up. “Don’t know what?”

“That I was raped anyway, despite how you tried to protect me from it!” I shout, jumping to my feet and pacing again. “That Father Brine and Deacon Block weren’t the only two evil men in that church. In fact, I don’t think they were even the worst.”

All color drains from his face. “No,” he says as if pleading with me to be lying.

As I stare at him, I’m reminded of the one and only conversation we tried to have about this not long after we reconnected.

“Who?” he demands in a clipped tone.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It fucking matters, Mark,” he snaps. “Give me a name.”

I return my gaze to his. “Malice, I’m… Fuck, I’m so sorry about what you went through, what they did to you.

I really am. And grateful.” He smirks, but it’s full of self-hatred.

I don’t blame him now that I know why he was sexually abused.

“I… you suffered to protect me. But…” I shake my head again.

“It didn’t work. I suffered too.” I turn and walk back to the wall, punching it. “Fuck!”

“Who?” he asks again. “I’ll fucking kill ‘em. I’ll hunt ‘em down and end their goddamn miserable lives.”

I huff out a breath. “I’m a grown man, Malice. I can handle my own demons.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Yeah, I should.” I shift to face him again.

“I was so damn angry when I thought you’d killed the wrong men.

I couldn’t understand why you’d do that and then leave me to continue to suffer.

” I shrug. “Now that I know the truth, I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if we’d talked more back then, if we’d confided our shame to each other.

” I take several deep breaths before continuing.

“But we can’t go back. We can’t change what happened.

And as hard as the truth is to hear, I’m glad you told me. It explains so fucking much. But…”

“But what?” he prods.

“I’m not ready to talk about, well… I’m just not ready.”

“You don’t have to suffer in silence,” he says quietly. “You’re not alone.”

“Yeah? How’d that work for you?”

“I want a name,” he demands, pulling me back to the present.

Closing my eyes, I have to breathe through my nose, so I don’t vomit the liquor I drank last night. “Ted McCormick and Stewart Crane.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I open my eyes and see his confused expression. He doesn’t recognize the names, and honestly, that doesn’t surprise me.

Sighing, I enlighten him. “When we first started attending Father Brine’s church, they were nobodies, just members of the congregation. But after a few years, Ted became the youth pastor, and he used his position to prey on kids. His preference was girls, but he didn’t mind young boys in a pinch.”

Malice clenches his jaw, his lips in a hard line. “And Stewart?”

“He was all about the boys,” I reply bitterly. “After the fire, we switched churches, and I thought that would be the end of it. As soon as we walked in that first Sunday, I realized that there’d be no escaping them because they were both there. Things got worse after the fire, too.”

His eyes widen. “Worse?”

“As I got older, McCormick thought I was better suited to helping him with his victims while Crane continued to brutalize me.” I chuckle darkly. “I became the thing I hate the most: an abuser.”

Malice shoots to his feet and comes to stand in front of me. “Fuck that! You were not an abuser, Mark. You were the victim.”

I roll my eyes. “I hate that word… victim . It implies that I fought back, that I said no.”

“Jesus,” he whispers harshly. “You were a kid. Trust me, I get it. I understand that feeling, but it’s absolute bullshit.”

“Ya know, I despised Mom and Dad for not protecting me,” I tell him, huffing out a breath. “But I still let those men do their worst to keep them safe.” Leveling my gaze on him, I add, “To keep you safe.”

He rears back. “What do you mean?”

“They told me they knew who started the fire that killed Brine and Block,” I explain.

“They said if I didn’t cooperate, not only would they turn you, Soul, and Grim in, but they’d also set fire to our house so that Mom and Dad would die the same way as their brethren .

” I wave a hand dismissively. “I guess we’re more alike than either of us realized…

Both of us are willing to endure Hell for other people. ”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I wish… I wish we weren’t as stubborn as we are. Maybe we could’ve actually protected each other if we hadn’t kept so many secrets.”

“Yeah.” I walk to the couch and sit. “On a bright note, I killed McCormick when we rescued Jez. That’s who she was going after, although I still don’t know all the details.”

“And Crane? Whatever happened to him?”

I scowl. “He’s still out there somewhere.”

“Not for long,” he grumbles as he sits next to me.

“His time on this Earth is limited, that’s for sure.”

Silence settles around us, but it’s not uncomfortable, and for that, I’m grateful.

Malice and I used to be so damn close when we were kids, before we knew how life could fuck you in the ass…

literally. I’ve missed that, missed him.

We may have been geographically close for a few a while now, but there has always been a distance between us. Maybe now that can actually change.

“I do have a question,” he finally says.

“Okay.”

“Is what happened to you why you’re fighting whatever it is between you and Phantom?”

Time for some more honesty… with him and myself.

“Probably. I’ve always been attracted to men, but I’ve shoved that part of me so deep down that I’m afraid to let it surface again.”

He tilts his head. “Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I’ve got great experience with men.”

“You know that if you choose to be with Phantom, it won’t be the same as what happened to you.”

“And what if I can’t separate the two?”

“Then you work through it. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

I chuckle. “I never thought I’d see the day where you’re pushing me into a relationship with a man.”

“I’m not. I just want you to be happy, kid. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Good. Now, I have another question.”

Eyeing him suspiciously, I ask, “What?”

“What about Jez?”

“What about her?”

Malice smirks. “Bro, you’ve been in love with her for a couple years now.

” When I open my mouth to argue, he holds a hand up to silence me.

“I know Soul’s put her firmly in the off-limits category, but you and I both know he wants her to be happy, which means he wouldn’t put up too much of a fight if you make her happy.

But how would that work with Phantom in the picture? ”

Rather than answer his question, I blurt, “I’m not in love with her.”

He laughs outright at that. “Okay, keep telling yourself that.” Pushing to his feet, he starts toward the door.

“It’s as plain as the nose on your face how you feel about her.

Not only can anyone see the way you look at her, but why else would you rush off to play savior without telling the club, and right after you were patched in, no less? ”

“I…” I shake my head. “I’m no?—”

“You guys okay down here?”

Malice and I whip our heads toward the stairs to see Jez descending and Phantom on her heels.

“Oh, we’re great,” Malice says, a stupid smile in his tone.

Jez eyes him suspiciously before focusing on me. “You good, Demon?”

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, uh, I’m good.”

“Good,” Phantom says. “Because I’m?—”

The door flies open, and Soul steps inside. “You guys work your shit out?” he demands.

Malice and I exchange a look before focusing on Prez. “Yeah,” I tell him. “We’re good.”

“VP?” he asks, arching a brow.

“Like he said, we’re good.”

“Okay. Now that we’re all good ,” he says, turning slightly to face Phantom. “You need to start talking.”

“Me?” Phantom asks.

“Yeah, you, pretty boy,” Soul snaps. “Talk.”