Page 45 of Tortured Souls
A plea.
For me to fight back.
An apology?
He’ll be searching for a long time because I won’t give it. I’ve done nothing they’ve accused me of, and the betrayal of not being trusted welcomes whatever he’s about to do.
Dark orbs shift ever so slightly to desperation, something you wouldn’t notice unless you’ve become familiar with Saxon’s emotions. I want to say he believes me, but his actions are so telling. Even if he did believe me, what would he do? His club is his whole world, his life and family. Would he forever live inperil, thinking that maybe I am a snitch and never letting his guard down around me?
“Tell me why,” he says, the deep timbre of his voice shakes ever so slightly, but I hear it. He’s hurting too, but in an entirely different way than I am. Just as he presses the barrel of his gun to my chest, my hurt and pain turn to red hot fury, a feeling I welcome back with open arms. I bottle up every useless emotion swirling in my chest and shove it back into a black fucking box where they belong, locking it tight and throwing the key into the darkness, never to be found again. I harden my face and look dead in his eyes as I speak with clarity.
“Pull the trigger, you coward.”
Bang.
Bang.
Death is a weird feeling. Seeing someone die can stir up the oddest compilation of emotions. From anger, to sadness, despair, hurt, happiness, the list goes on. No two people ever experience death the same way. While some welcome the feeling of slipping away from their bodies, some panic and try to hold on to their soul as it begins to evaporate from their vessel. For me, I’m not sure how I’m going to feel. However, right now, I would gladly welcome the escape from this pit of hell that I’ve been living in for what seems like an eternity. This pain is far too much for me to want to endure.
SAXON
Diego and Leonard sit lifeless in their chairs, blood cascading from the gunshot wounds in their chests. She doesn’t flinch, not even an inch, as I pull the trigger. The loud bangs resonate off the walls. Her eyes give away nothing—no emotions, nothing I can use to decipher if this is all a lie or truth. Her facial features are still frozen, and I worry about what’s going on in her head. I want her to beg and plead with me, to tell me they’re lying and trying to get under my skin, but she’s giving me absolutely nothing.
Have you ever been to a zoo and seen the lions after they’ve been in captivity for a long time? After a while, their strength and will to be free disappears. They accept their fate of being nothing more than an entertainment piece for humanity, and they begin to die inside. Their fight is gone. They become puppets to those who come to pay and catch a glimpse of nature’s most ferocious beast.
Looking into Sky’s eyes now, I’m reminded of those lions. There is a deep void that allows me to see right through her. There is no longer that veil she pulls over herself to protect her from danger. She’s simply blank, a statue of nothing but bones, muscles, and skin. Is this who she’s been all along? Have I been so blind to see her as someone I thought I could be with and miss all the warning signs that she is nothing more than my enemy?
My skin is on fire. A volcanic eruption of rage has been awakened in my chest. Lava is pouring out around my soul, encasing hot magma around every structure within me. My heart that was starting to feel something again is now nothing more than a pile of ash.
How could she do this to me?
Why would she?
Most importantly, how could I have let her do this to me? I’ve been so fucking stupid and blinded by this beautiful siren that I’ve forgotten what I’ve meant to be doing. I’m the protector of this club, and not only have I let my guard down, I’ve let the fucking enemy walk in freely. What a rookie mistake. A mistake I will surely never fucking make again.
Maybe she’s been waiting for me to get close to her, dropping my guard, and I missed something on the cameras. Maybe that’s when she struck and the plan all fell into place. Or maybe I’m grasping at straws in hopes of finding a way out of this chaos we’ve created.
“What do you want to do with her?” Finn asks. I peel my eyes from the depths of her soulless ones and holster my pistol back in my jeans. What do I want to do with her? I want this all to be a dream. I want her to never have been born into my enemy’s family, and I want us to be showering together in her apartment while I explore every inch of her body.
I want her.
What a stupid fantasy.
“Call Owen and Brooks. Have them come by and help you dispose of the bodies. I’ll deal with her.” I grab her bicep and shove her towards the elevator. Pressing the button, I hear Finn talking with the guys on the phone. The elevator doors open, and before I can shove her inside, she walks in herself. She’s not resisting or fighting me in the slightest. When the doors close, I drop my hand from her arm, not wanting any temptation by touching her. I look over at her. She’s staring straight ahead, her eyes slightly hooded as she continues acting as if she’s a fucking robot with no emotions. The silence is too much. I can hear the ringing in my ears, which only pisses me off even more.
“So, what was your end game? Get as much useless information for your father and get a good fuck in the meantime?” My words taste bitter on my tongue, and I hate that they could possibly be true. She closes her eyes for a moment, taking a shallow breath, and it’s the first sign that this whole situation is affecting her that she’s shown.
“Whatever you think is the truth, I guess is the truth.” Her voice is low and so monotone I snap at her lack of interest and lunge for her. I wrap my hand around her throat and push her against the wall, squeezing hard so she understands how fucking pissed I am.
“You think this is a fucking game? I guess you don’t realize where you’re currently standing. Let me remind you. You’re in my territory, and you’ve been caught. So, I suggest you openyour eyes and see how your life is quite literally dangling in the palm of my hands. To be honest, I’m not sure your ending is looking verylivelyright now.” Our noses are practically touching at this point. My face is hot with rage, and I’m trying my best not to snap her neck with how hard I want to squeeze her throat.
I can feel her swallow beneath my hand, and I ease up just enough for her to speak.
“You might as well kill me, Saxon. You’ve already started, so you should just finish it already. I think we’d both be happier if I just disappeared. I’ll make it easy on you and won’t even fight it. Just do it, please.” Her voice is pained, not from my clutching her esophagus, but she sounds… different.
Broken.
“Why would you do this to me? To us? Why jeopardize this, what we’ve become? Tell me this isn’t real, Sky. Please, for the love of everything pure in this world, tell me the truth.” I rest my forehead against hers, my throat developing a large lump, but I swallow hard, forcing it down. I close my eyes as the adrenaline from the night rapidly depletes within me. I want to hate her. I want to suffocate her right now and end it all. A snitch is a snitch, and they ultimately receive their punishments, eventually. I want to eliminate her.Why can’t I do it?