Page 47 of Tortured Souls

I didn’t.

I knew Saxon might come looking for me here, if not just to see that I was truly out of town, and I didn’t want to put Mack in danger. However, Mack does have a small hunting cabin in the woods about twenty miles from Rhun Canyon. Which is where I’m currently at. Sitting in this small, quaint cabin, sipping my tea as I go over my plans for the thousandth time.

My list for revenge is almost complete. Why stop now, just because my train has seriously been derailed? Plus, the last two names on the list happen to be my very own parents. Sergio and Sylvia Sagan. I’ve been working nonstop on this plan, and I still have some holes I need to fill before I set this plan in motion.

Out of all my kills, this one will be the trickiest. For obvious reasons. First off, he’s the president of the Hellstorms, which means he constantly has people around him to ensure his safety. Second, I will be on his territory. As much as I know all the ins and outs of the compound he lives on, the fact of the matter is, it’s still his territory. Lastly, now that Diego and Leonard are gone, he will be aware that something is coming. He may not know it’s me, but nonetheless, he will know he needs to be extra careful.

A knock at the door startles me, but when I see it’s just Mack, I wave at him through the door window for him to come in.

“Mack, this is your house. You don’t need to knock,” I say to him, as I start gathering my floor plans to Sergio’s house off thedining table. Mack has been bringing me groceries for the past two months, even though I insist I can do it myself. He wants me to lie low. He’s worried about my safety. If the shoe was on the other foot, and a young woman came to my door in the night crying, I would feel the same as he does right now. I would be worried too.

“I just want to make sure I’m not walking in on you. This is your space for now. We all need our privacy, and I sure as hell don’t want to walk in and see you naked or some shit.” Setting the groceries on the counter, I help him unload and sort through the array he’s brought me.

We’re both quiet for a moment. The sound of us shuffling through the kitchen and putting away the groceries is the only noise between us. Until I notice he’s stopped moving and is currently starring in the fridge with a puzzled look.

“What is it?”

“You’re not eating enough, Sky.” He looks at me with his sad eyes that are hard for me to see. “Not only can I physically see you’re losing weight, but last week’s groceries have hardly been touched.” He’s right. I haven’t been eating enough. I can’t stomach anything lately besides tea and some club crackers. The pain inside me takes up so much space, it’s hard to allow anything else inside. I sigh and drop my gaze from his.

“Listen to me, Sky. I know it hurts. Trust me, I know. But if you stop taking care of yourself, nothing good will come of it. Don’t allow yourself to give up because he couldn’t see the truth, even though it was staring him right in the face. Men are stupid, sweetheart. The first sign of being lied to or played, they go on the defensive. No man wants to admit they were tricked by a woman, even when they weren’t tricked in the first place. A man’s ego is their most fragile element.” Walking over to where I’m leaning against the counter, Mack pulls me into his chest.

Mack is the only man on this planet I’ve ever let see me fall completely apart. He’s safe and the only person I love. I trust this man with my whole existence, and I couldn’t be more thankful for his kindness. We hug each other while I cry a few more tears. His embrace is soothing and brings me back from the darkness I’ve found myself in lately. While in his arms, I finally tell him what I’ve been delaying for the past week.

“I’m leaving in two days.” His chest rises and falls against my chest. Squeezing me a little tighter, he kisses the top of my head. When he finally pulls away, he looks down at me with his forehead furrowed, as if he wants to argue with me, but he knows it’s futile. I’ve told him my plan and even though he’s against it 100 percent, he understands why I want to do it. Mack’s tried everything to convince me to not do this, even going as far as threatening to come with me. It’s been two long months since I started this meticulous plan, and he knows I’m not backing out of this now.

I found a contact that works within the compounds of my family’s home. A housekeeper named Glenda, who I remember from when I was a girl. She doesn’t like my family, never has, but the money she makes from her work is a lot more than she could make elsewhere. She’s the sole provider for her family, and no matter how hard her work got, no matter how much physical or verbal abuse she was subjected to, she never left. She’s been there for forever.

I was honestly surprised she agreed to give me the information I needed, since she needs that job to survive. However, when I promised a hefty sum of money from the inheritance I would receive, she agreed right away. I know for a fact my parents don’t have wills. They think they’re invincible. So, since Seven is dead, the last remaining member of the family will inherit everything. Not like I want anything from them, but I do need to make sure Glenda’s family is taken care of. Glendais risking a lot, and I would never go back on a promise. I also told her I would help her find another job with an even wealthier family. She agreed.

“What can I do to help?” Mack asks me, leaning against the fridge.

“You’ve done so much already. I’m okay. I got this, I promise,” I say, trying to reassure him but knowing my words mean nothing. He’ll still worry and fear for my safety, no matter what.

I give him more details of what the actual plan will entail and assure him the moment it’s done, I will inform him immediately. That is, if I accomplish said mission. I know how risky this is, and I’m well aware that I may not make it out alive, but at this point, I’d rather die trying than not try at all.

We talk about mundane things, such as how work is going for him, the weather, what’s been going on in town lately. We try to lighten the mood, but we both know the inevitable is coming. I need to say goodbye, and we don’t know if this is the last thing we’ll ever say to each other.

I don’t want to cry anymore, so I say goodbye quickly. Even though he tries to change my mind a few more times as we walk to his car, I assure him I’m doing this no matter what. Just when I feel my eyes sting again, I quickly give him one more hug and turn back towards the house, not looking over my shoulder. I know if I see the expression on his face, I’ll crumble.

Right now, I need to be strong.

I need to be focused.

I need to be a killer.

SAXON

When shit hits the fan, it well and truly hits the fan. Since I forced Sky away, my life has been spiraling into the deepest pits of hell, where I’m currently residing. A few days later, I learned my best friend and little sister were seeing each other behind my back. Then they got into a motorcycle crash where Sage was hurt badly. I thought she fucking died. Hell, they’re both lucky to be alive. Then she was fucking kidnapped from the hospital by none other than my piece of shit uncle. Said uncle turned out to be the mastermind behind my father’s, a.k.a. his brother’s, death. On top of all this, I can’t seem to get a certain pair of caramel-colored eyes out of my head. Even now, when I’m staring at the man I’ve called uncle all my life, bleeding and on the verge of death, tied up in my basement in the woods.

I can’t erase her scent, her touch, or her fucking voice that’s like a melody repeating in my brain. My only saving grace at the moment is I get to release the anger that’s burning inside me on the man who killed my father and almost killed Sage. I punch his mangled face over and over again. His features are unrecognizable at this point, but the fucker’s still breathing.Down with the Sicknessby Disturbed is playing in the background, but I can hardly hear anything besides the crunching of my uncle’s face.

I’ve successfully broken every finger on both of his hands and took a sledgehammer to his feet. I blew out both his kneecaps with a wooden bat that is wrapped in barbed wire—courtesy of Finn, who loves the showThe Walking Dead. I’ve also gouged out his eyeballs with my fingers and made him chew and swallow both. His nose is practically minced meat at this point, and he’s taken around thirty whips to his chest and back. Again, I’m surprised he’s still alive. But I continue. As much as I was hoping this would help my rage, it hasn’t stopped me from thinking about her in the slightest. The more I see her face in my head, the angrier I get.

How could she betray me?

Why couldn’t she just defend herself? Like her pride would take a hit if she did.

Didn’t she see how much I care about her?