Page 16 of Kingston (Angels Halo MC Next Gen #14)

Chapter Sixteen

Demi

I wasn’t sure what stank more, the smell of blood and urine or the decay that permeated the thick air, melding together in the heat. There was definitely something dead somewhere in the cabin, but it wasn’t the man lying on the table in front of me.

Charlie Johnson, the monster who starred in my worst nightmares, was strapped to a table. Rope was knotted around his wrists, stretching them tightly above his head. From the angle of his dislocated shoulders, he must have fought the restraints hard while he still had the energy.

He’d been a guest in this house of horrors for more than two weeks at this point.

Now, he was nothing more than skin and bones, with barely enough blood in his body to keep his heart pumping.

The only reason he wasn’t dead yet was the IV that was giving him fluids and the occasional dose of adrenaline whenever his heart stopped beating.

Or so Kingston had told me when I’d asked one night.

Charlie’s feet were bound to the metal table with chains that were so tight they were embedded deeply into the skin and muscle. Flies buzzed around, and when I took a small step forward, I thought I saw something white moving around in the rotting flesh. A lot of those white somethings.

Perhaps the scent of death was actually coming from the pitiful creature lying on that table. He looked like a science experiment gone wrong. Open wounds on every part of his exposed body, and the only cloth offering him a minuscule bit of modesty was the blood-soaked towel draped over his groin.

I’d believed Kingston when he’d told me about the Johnsons being gone. A big part of me had even trusted that he’d spoken the truth when he’d said he was holding my ex captive and torturing him for all the things he’d done to me.

But there was still that nagging voice at the back of my mind that kept whispering it wasn’t true.

That Kingston wouldn’t have been able to exorcise the demons that continued to haunt me.

After two weeks of wondering and waiting, I’d begged him to show me it was true.

That Charlie couldn’t get to me. That he’d never be able to get his hands on Iris.

I could feel Kingston’s reluctance every mile he drove us to the cabin. His white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel had never eased from the moment we’d dropped off Iris at his parents’ house earlier.

“You can change your mind. We don’t have to do this. Let me take a few pictures instead. Don’t add more bad memories, babe,” he’d said more than once on the trip north.

There was no mistaking the quaver in his voice, the plea.

In the short time I’d known this amazing man, he’d never been anything less than confident.

Knowing he was nervous, realizing it was because he was afraid that whatever was waiting at the cabin might change how I felt for him, only made me love him more.

I’d almost said “okay” a handful of times, but I’d kept the words inside.

Not going was the easier option, and I was trying to prove to myself that I wasn’t a coward any longer.

I’d even gotten the courage to go to Sanctuary with Quinn a few days before at Kingston’s continued suggestion.

He never pushed, but each morning for the past ten days, he’d made the offer.

I declined over and over, but then I’d had another PTSD moment, and I knew I couldn’t keep letting my past rule my present.

It wouldn’t hurt anything if I simply sat in on one of the group therapy sessions and listened to some of the other women talk about their own experiences. But I wasn’t confident it would help either.

When I first sat down, I didn’t think that I would get anything from that meeting. That it would just be a waste of time while I kept my head lowered and listened to the others discuss how they had survived their own ordeals.

These women and I weren’t the same. I wasn’t brave like them.

But then a shaky voice began to retell her experience with her husband, and I sat up a little straighter, goose bumps pebbling along my entire body. I’d listened and relived some of my worst moments through someone else’s hell.

There was a new arrival in the group who’d only become a resident of Sanctuary the previous week, and she was a year younger than me.

She had three kids, who were in the playroom down the hall, all of them still in diapers and thankfully unharmed.

Unlike their mother, who had fought like a lioness to escape her abuser, their father.

Bruises covered most of her face and arms. She had a brace that went from her knee to her foot, with metal pins screwed along her shin to hold everything in place.

But the worst was the stitches from her shoulder to her wrist. I wasn’t sure what that bastard had used to cut her, but it wasn’t a simple single slice. It was jagged and grotesque.

Looking at her, I’d seen myself at seventeen. Broken, hurting, scared of my own shadow. Iris had been all I’d had back then, and I knew if I didn’t run, didn’t hide us, my daughter would end up just as broken as I was. Maybe not physically, but eventually, he would break her mentally.

Or turn her into a version of himself.

I wasn’t sure which would be worse.

It took a roomful of fellow survivors telling me I deserved to be happy now for me to accept that fact.

But I also knew I would never fully relax until I saw with my own eyes that Charlie was gone for good.

Nausea rolled in my stomach as I stared down at the man who’d nearly cost me my life.

Once upon a time, I was the one lying on my back.

Scared and bloody, too broken to move, every breath a painful wheeze.

I had been helpless to protect myself or the baby that was in my belly as he kicked me until I passed out.

Those memories clung to me like the sweat that was saturating my skin.

A rumbly sound came from Kingston, his hand touching my arm before lifting to tuck my hair back from my face. “Now you’ve seen him, baby. You know he can’t touch you. Let me take you home. We can cuddle on the couch with our girl and watch princess movies all night. Put this out of your mind.”

His voice was so tender, full of so much love and affection, but laced with concern.

Maybe a twinge of uncertainty. Fuck, I loved him.

It was hard to believe that the first time I’d met him, I’d attacked him.

Up until that moment, I’d never imagined I was capable of reacting in such a way.

But even then, part of me had known I was safe with him.

“Did you do this?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off Charlie. “Are you responsible for his condition?”

“Most of it, yes,” he said after a brief moment. “Not all of it. Jack brought him here for me. He’s come back a few times. But he knew not to go too far because I’m the one with unfinished business.”

I nodded, accepting his answer, my gaze scanning over the damage on the weeping man laid before me. “Thank you.”

“For what, babe?” Kingston asked hesitantly.

“For telling me the truth and for bringing me here. But mostly, thank you for making it possible to face my fears once and for all.” I took a slow breath, blocking out the sickening smells surrounding us, and looked up at the man who so easily had become my world. He couldn’t hide how on edge he was.

Kingston wanted me away from this place and the reality of what he was capable of, but I welcomed his darker side. It made this so much easier. Facing my boogeyman with my own personal beast at my side gave me the strength I’d lacked until now.

“Telling you what I’ve done and showing you the destruction are two different things, Demi. I don’t want you to ever think…”

“I know that, Kingston. There is nothing you could ever do to cause me to stop loving and trusting you.”

Relief brightened his eyes. “I love you so much, baby.”

“Can I…?” I flicked my eyes to the smaller table beside where Charlie was secured.

To the different weapons that were old and rusty.

There was a hacksaw and wire cutters and things I didn’t know the names of, but they had all been used.

Their jagged edges had left old and fresh imprints on Charlie’s extremities. “Just a little?”

Gripping my chin, Kingston forced me to meet his gaze. Green eyes stared down at me for a long moment, as if making sure I was okay, before he finally nodded. “Come here, love. Let me help you.”

When Kingston moved, Charlie whimpered, the sound so pathetically weak I couldn’t hold back a little giggle in response. His helplessness made me oddly giddy. Which was most definitely wrong, but he’d done such a spectacular job of breaking me, I didn’t think it mattered any longer.

Kingston smirked down at me. “There’s my little hell-raiser. Are you ready to play, sweetheart?”

I took the carving knife he handed me, a tiny thrill tingling down my spine. “So ready.”

“That’s my girl.”