Page 60 of Soul So Dark

I follow him into the living room and take a seat in one of the wingback chairs flanking the fireplace. “I thought they’d put up more of a fight. I didn’t realize they’d actuallyrun.”

“I told that motherfucker, Rhinehardt, that I’d be back for his other knee if he misbehaved,” Aiden drawls. “Maybe he’s finally learning.”

“Trying to get you locked up didn’t work,” I point out, “and now Bowen has Col after him. They’re probably getting desperate.”

“I should’ve killed them all tonight,” Colson deadpans, his voice landing like a ton of bricks.

Our attention shifts to him, staring straight ahead at the wall, but not seeing the wall. And he’s holding his black knife on his knee, toggling it back and forth at a constant pace, the rest of his body completely still.

It’s not what he said, but the way he said it that gives us pause. It’s not in his usual tone, thick with arrogance. This time, I think he really means it.

“I should’ve gotten out of that car,” he continues, “I should’ve lined them up on that road, and slit every one of their goddamn throats, one after another.”

“Shit, dude,” Mason murmurs from behind him.

Colson whips his head to the side, speaking over his shoulder. “Did you forget what he did?” His voice gets louder with each word. “Did you forget what happened in those woods?”

“Don’t you fucking start with me, Col!” Mason barks, giving me a start. “I was there! Didyouforget? Who do you think dragged you both out of that pipe and called for help? Who had to tell them where to find us in the middle of fucking nowhere with Evie melting all over you?I had to keep it together for you!” he shouts, his cheeks flushed with rage.

Aiden looks on with indifference, but I know he’s agonizing over his own perceived failures and sees Colson as the manifestation of those failures. Meanwhile, Mason’s done suffering in silence, having realized that he can’t just fall back into being the mellow one with the carefree attitude.

“It’s not over, Col,” I break the silence, “but you’re not the one who’s supposed to go to prison.”

After a couple of minutes, Colson leans forward, staring at the floor between his knees.

“You alright?” I ask, “You look like you’re about to puke.”

He flinches, like I’ve just interrupted him mid-thought. “Yeah. Um,” he swallows, each breath getting deeper, “I need you to do something for me.”

Colson rises from the sofa and crosses the marble floor to the dining room. He jerks a chair away from the table and spins it around. Then he reaches up and grabs his shirt, tugging it over his head in one motion before dropping it on the floor. Taking a seat in the chair, he looks down at the knife and studies it for a few moments before holding it out like an offering.

“What are you doing?” I ask, eyeing him from across the room.

He looks down and touches his torso, running his fingers over the scar on his ribcage—the same one we all have.

“I need you to make me bleed again.”

I could balk at his request, but I remember what it felt like when that blade sliced through my flesh three years ago. And I know why he’s asking for it now. I needed to feel something so I knew I wasn’t dying, turning into a ghost, and disappearing a little more each day.

“Do it!” he bites out. “Because I keep seeing her,andI can’tget it out of my fucking head!”

Before I can respond, Mason storms across the room and swipes the knife out of Colson’s hand. I think he’s going to flip it shut and chastise Colson for his harmful ideations, but instead, he plants his feet on either side of Colson’s knees and takes a seat on his thighs.

And, suddenly, it’s three years ago, and we’re all here in Aiden’s dining room again—for another ritualistic bloodletting.

Without a word, Aiden crosses the room, tearing his belt from its buckle and pulling it through his jeans with a zip. He steps behind the chair and lowers the strap in front of Colson’s face, fixing it between his teeth. I follow, crouching down by Aiden’s legs and weaving my arms through Colson’s, holding them firm at his back.

In a flash, Mason’s hand flies up and he pops Colson across the jaw, eliciting a shocked grunt from him. Aiden jerks Colson’s face upright again, holding him steady as Mason leans over him.

“Don’t you fucking tell me about what happened out there,” Mason growls. “Because everything that’s in your head is in mine, too, andI can’t fucking forget it, either!” He reels back and smacks him across the face again, this time much harder.

Colson lets out a pained groan that echoes through the room, but then his shoulders begin shaking with silent laughter. Mason looks down at Colson’s lap.

“Did that make you hard for me, Col?” Mason taunts.

Aiden and I snicker at one another. This sounds more like Mason. Emboldened by our reactions, he starts rocking back and forth on Colson’s lap, dropping his jaw in feigned astonishment as he grinds on his presumably hard dick.

“Shit,” Mason mutters with a laugh. “He’s hard as a goddamn rock right now.”