Page 150 of The Truths We Burn

I’m not a fool. I don’t believe in fairy tales, and for the longest time, I refused to indulge myself in the twisted delusional of her loving me back.

But the pain I chase is nothing compared to the pain of not being able to touch her. Not being able to have her. I could learn to forgive myself, but I don’t want to be without her.

Not again.

“It won’t be pretty,” I say, my voice husky. “My pain is an ugly, consuming beast, Sage. Can you handle something like that?”

“You’re not the only person who hurts themselves when it gets too much, Rook.”

I follow her hands as she removes them from her center, reaching behind herself to unzip the dress that shields her from me. She takes her time undressing, pulling her arms from the sleeves and shoving the black material down until it’s bunched around her waist.

I roll my tongue across my bottom lip as she seductively pulls it from her legs, tossing it onto the floor with her foot when she’s done. My eyes can’t figure out where to look first. The kindling blue of her eyes, the delicate curves that roll over her hips, or her supple tits that are the perfect shade of dusty pink, begging for my mouth.

She had been my greatest heartache. The one who had ripped a hole so deep inside of me that I never thought I’d be able to fill it. I’d gotten used to the hollow valley inside my soul.

But she’s also my only salvation.

The only altar I’d ever dare to worship.

I finally find where I want to look, because she drops her arms in front of her, baring the off-white scars that lie there.

They start at the base of her wrist, traveling vertically up her arms until they stop just below the bend in her elbow.

“My dad made a choice, and so did I,” she breathes. “He wanted to keep me, but I wanted to make sure he didn’t get either of us. We don’t have to hurt alone, Rook.”

I stand up.

She will never be able to lead me to the Garden of Eden or Heaven’s pearly gates. It’s too late for that.

But we could create our own peace. Our own salvation on our terms. Our own celestial city in the kingdom of eternal flames.

I grab her wrists, curling my fingers around, examining the sunken skin. All those stitches, all that blood she must have lost. She was all alone, so fucking miserable that she wanted to end it all. I never would have seen her again. I would have lost her for good.

It feels like a swift kick to the balls, a harsh stabbing in my gut.

“You’re not a flightless bird anymore, Sage. You’re a phoenix. They tried to snuff you out, but you wouldn’t let them. You built yourself from those ashes with no help from me or anyone else. Just you.”

I reach into my front pocket, pulling out the dainty golden chain, and the bird in the middle catches the light.

“Dying is easy. Can you burn for me?”

I’m not just asking.

I’m begging.

She reaches out, grabbing the charm that hangs, and rubs her finger across the plated winged creature.

“Where did you get this?” she whispers, a single tear streaming down her cheek, and I have the carnal urge to lick it from her. To catch her sadness and swallow it all up so she never has to feel it again.

“I melted it down from Cain’s badge,” I say. “As a reminder that he will never be able to touch you again. No one will. Not unless you let them.”

I see the question in her eyes. She wants to know what happened, what I did, but she knows it’s better left unsaid right now.

I take the metal and loop it around her neck, hooking it in the back so it falls perfectly in the center of her collarbone. She looks down at it, staring for a moment, and at first I’m unsure if she likes it. It is a gruesome gift.

But when she looks back up at me, her lips slightly parted, she gives me her answer,

“Rook, I’d likeyouto touch me now.”