Page 46 of Tortured Souls
“No matter what I say, you’re only going to believe what you want to believe. There’s no point. If I meant anything to you, you wouldn’t even have to ask me. You’d already believe me.” Her whispered voice chokes on her last word, and I finally hear that she’s feeling something. Something, even sadness, is something.
“Can I believe you?” I ask, needing the answer to be clear as day. I need a sign of the truth.
“You having to ask that question means I have the answer I need.” The elevator doors open for the third time. Herapartment is at our side as she tries to pull away from me. I don’t fight her. I let her walk past me and into her space.
I exit the elevator before the doors close on me.
“So, where do you want to do it?” She’s asking me where she wants me to kill her. So calmly, it’s almost eerie how she’s assuming I’m going to kill her here. As if I’m going to end her life in the place she calls her safe space. As if I’m just some monster.
“Just leave, Sky.”
“Wh-what?”
“I said just leave. This is over, I suppose.”
“Why are we doing this?”
“Because you and I will forever play the roles of enemies, it seems. I can’t trust you, and you’re not giving me anything to show you want to be here. No pleas, no arguments, just a blank canvas, leaving me to believe Diego and Leonard were right. You’re leaving my town, my club, and going back to where you came from.” She pinches her eyebrows together, as if confused by what I’m saying.
“Saxon, please. Just make this easier. I’m not fighting you on this.” She really wants me to kill her instead of letting her go. Shewantsme to kill her. If I wasn’t already confused, I sure as hell am now.
“Get your bag. Now.” I’m losing my patience with her. The more time I spend around her, the more tempted I am to forgive and forget. She needs to hurry the fuck up and just take my free pass and go already.
“You have ten minutes,” I say to her, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms over my chest that feels like it’s growing tighter with every minute that passes. She sighs but grabs a small duffle and starts putting in her essentials. She doesn’t have much to start with, so a duffle is really all she needs to collect the important things she wants to take with her. I gave her ten minutes, but she only needed five before she’s standing in frontof me clutching her bag to shoulder. Her eyes are glossy, and her cheeks have turned a deep shade of red.
“Done,” she says with a shaky voice, her eyes lowered to the floor as if she can’t look me in the eyes. I should turn and walk her to her car. I should shove her out and make her promise to never come back again. But instead, I cup her face with my hand and lift her face towards mine. Even with her face in front of mine, she doesn’t look at me, her eyes still lowered to the floor.
“You know why I have to do this, right?” I ask, my tone no longer holding anger. Instead, I feel hollow. Stupid for believing the enemy’s daughter could be anything but the enemy herself.
“Because you’re a man like every other I’ve encountered before. That I need to beg a man to believe me when I’ve never given any indication that I’ve been anything but truthful is what hurts the most. Trust is the power that holds people together, and you not trusting me is the fire that burned the rope tethering us together. It’s a shame. I was finally starting to understand what family means.”
Tears have begun filling her eyes, but before they can fall, she pushes past me just as the elevator doors open again, and she steps inside. I don’t step in beside her, instead we both stare at one another. As the doors begin to close once again, she says, “I thought you were different from the rest, Saxon. I thought you were real.” Just as the doors close fully, I watch as she completely breaks down. Tears falling from her eyes as if someone just turned on a faucet. As if she’s been holding back this whole time. I’m starting to think she was. I see her drop to the floor, and her head lowers as a sob breaks free. Then she’s gone.
I fold right there, my gut twisting into a pile of chaos. My knees hit the unforgiving hardwood as I stare at the ceiling.
“Dad, what the fuck do I do? How did you make this look so easy for all those years? Every decision I make is in the club’sbest interest, but when is it okay for me to worry aboutme? Please tell me. Show me a sign on what the fuck to do here. Please. Please, Dad, say something.” I didn’t even notice I was crying until the tears splash on the floor in front of me. I’m so tired, so drained, and I fear my brain may explode if I have to make another decision in this lifetime.
How I wish he were still alive. Not only to bear the responsibility of this club, but to advise me like a father does. I need help. I really fucking need help, and I don’t know who to ask. I can’t ask the guys. That would seem like I’m not competent enough to be their president. I can’t show myself crumbling or faltering in my own decisions. Maybe this is for the best. Maybe I can’t be the leader and share myself with another at the same time. It’s one or the other, and that’s just how my life is going to go.
I stare down at my hands, looking at the calluses I’ve built up and the rough ridges of the creases.Saxon Wilder, the president of the Kings’ Aces, on his knees, crying over a woman.How pathetic my father must think I am. I decide in that moment to get it all out. Cry these fucking tears once and for all, and once I’m done, I get back to work. No more pity parties for me. I have people to protect and a club to run.Harden the fuck up, Saxon.
So, I do. I cry for another five minutes, get my ass up, and then head back to the basement to help the guys dispose of more bodies. My life in a nutshell. This is who I am. Before I leave the building, a flash of caramelly hazel eyes flashes in my mind. The pair of eyes that will most likely haunt me for the rest of my life.
TWO MONTHS LATER
SKYLAR
Whoever said time heals all pain was the biggest fucking liar that’s ever walked this planet. If anything, I feel as though time has made it worse. My chest still feels like it’s shattering bit by bit. My ribs are like sharp daggers constantly poking and scrapping against the walls of my chest. My body feels like I’ve been carrying a weight that still gets heavier each and every day.A world where I finally felt normal and enjoyed being in was suddenly smashed to a million fucking pieces right in front of me. I’ve never wanted to die or take my own life, but every day, I wish Saxon would have just killed me that day. Take me away from this life of nothingness.The pain of not being believed is soul crushing, which I guess is fitting for me since that’s all my life has felt like.
While most days I feel like I’m drowning in the deepest pit of heartbreak, there are some days where the rage bubbles over and consumes me. Anger towards Saxon for believing two Hellstorm members over me. How quickly he was able to switch sides and toss me away as if I was nothing but the snitch they accused me of being. I’ve never been, nor will I ever be, a snitch.My anger then morphs into regret. Regret that maybe I should have just begged and pleaded like he wanted. If I had, would I still be in Golden Heights? Would he have truly believed me? I can’t linger on that thought for too long. The pain only intensifies inside me.
I hate my father—something Saxon knows all too well—and I’d never do anything that would benefit him. Yet Saxon believed Diego and Leonard. In a matter of ten minutes, he already assumed I was the person they were accusing me of being. That’s what hurts the most. I’ve made many mistakes in my life, and lowering my walls for Saxon Wilder is currently sitting at number one for the stupidest mistakes I’ve ever made. A mistake I won’t make again.
After I broke down in the elevator at Vice, I needed to make a decision about where to go and fast. So, I went to Mack’s. I didn’t want to involve him with anything related to the clubs, but I was desperate.
After banging on his front door in the middle of the night with tears dried to my cheeks, he ushered me inside. He was frantic as to what the hell was going on. He sat me down on hiscouch and insisted I tell him everything. I did. However, I left out the parts about killing people and disposing of their bodies—you know, the gruesome shit. I told him how Saxon heard a rumor that I was a spy for my father and how this set him off, and he told me to get out.
Not the whole truth, but all Mack needed to know. I told him I needed a place just for the night, but he insisted I stay as long as I needed to.