Page 286 of Satan's Spawn

There’s a storm brewing in my chest, but it’s not from anger. It’s filled with pain rising fast, appearing as water brimming my eyes.

“Don’t you get it?! It’s me who’s not good enough!”

“And I’m telling you that you are!”

“I still can’t believe it, Rebecca! Not when I’ve spent a lifetime telling myself I’m not.”

Tears fall steady from her eyes, and a part of me wishes mine would do the same. So I can finally feel normal, finally feel human.

“Then stay with me, Crayton,” Rebecca sniffles, “and I promise to prove to you every single day how much you are.”

I squeeze both hands through her hair and kiss her lips…slow and meaningful.

“I’m sorry but I can’t.”

“Why?” she cries into my wrist.

“Because this Devil doesn’t know how to love.”

Rebecca brings my tattered arm to her lips. “He doesn’t have to,” she says, kissing the length of each scar. “Because I’ll love him enough for the both of us.”

47

BEX

Crayton was taken into custody a few hours after that conversation. The police showed up with dangling cuffs just waiting to lock around his wrists.

This arrest played out pretty similar to the first: me strapped to him, screaming and crying while Cillian held me back with tears in his eyes too.

Crayton didn’t bother trying to fight the cops this time around, knowing it would be futile…and because Micah was there drilling it in his head to comply.

Crayton was locked up for two days before getting released on bail. A hefty one. And those days felt like years as I waited for him to get out. The weeks leading up to this moment felt like decades.

Trial has already started, and, as expected, things aren’t going well for Crayton. The violent history, assaults on Felix, and the blood on his knife.

It also didn’t help that Felix’s mother was blowing her hysterics into a tissue the entire time.

Crayton did well overall, other than the occasional grunt when the D.A. gave bogus examples of Felix’s “All-American Boy” persona.

As good an attorney as Micah is, without any actual proof Alexis framed Crayton for this murder, all roads lead to his bloody knife, I.D., and that stupid letter.

Which thankfully had no mention of Crayton’s sexual assault on Felix.

It’s been a long and tiring road, with more downs than ups, but I’m not giving up just yet.

Because today is a good day—it’s my turn to talk—and I will be singing Crayton’s praises until that entire courtroom is down on their knees worshiping him too.

I will not allow the man I love to go to prison for a murder he didn’t commit. Not if I can help it with a little clarification on this “All-American Piece of Rapist Shit.”

I got my hair bunned tight, fancy pants on, and a smile bright enough to melt every single one of their rose colored lenses.

As I make my way up the steps to the court house, I find Cillian leaning against one of the extravagant pillars smoking a cigarette.

Which may very well be his first ever.

He’s coughing through the exhale when Mom and I reach him.

Mom gives him a nod before stepping through the doors, still not comfortable enough about this situation for small talk with Crayton’s dad.