Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
“You weren’t to blame. You were just as much a victim in this as she was,” I say softly, hating the pressure on my chest.
I feel violent, knowing where this story is going.
“Anyway, seven years later, my grandmother died, and my mother came back into the picture. She was so fucked up in the head by then the state never should have let her walk away with me. She’d been on the streets, getting abused on repeat, and taking shelter with junkies she fucked for food and warmth. She said she was going to hell, but she was taking the demon inside me with her.”
He clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine again.
“Between the drugs and psychological issues, she honestly believed there’d been a demon in the man who raped her. She believed by impregnating her, he’d passed that demon along to me. She performed her own versions of exorcisms, dehydrating me for days. Every time she asked my name, I told her, but she’d punish me.”
He gestures to some of the scars on his chest.
“These aren’t as bad as the ones on my back because she was terrified to face me, worried the demon would leap out of my eyes and into hers if she stared at me. So she usually put a hood over my head. Then she’d burn me with hot metal crosses, cut me, whip me, dehydrate me. I was fed and watered once a day like a dog, because she was afraid if I simply died, the demon would escape and she’d have to worry about it coming after her again, planting a new demon child inside her.”
My hand on his chest slowly curls into a fist as I fight back the tears in my eyes. He keeps his gaze off me.
“She believed if she inflicted enough pain, the demon would show himself, and then she could exorcise it,” he says quietly. “One day, she went too far. She went to cut off my dick, saying if she couldn’t kill the demon, she’d make sure he could never get out of me the way he got out of the last host. I wasn’t chained. She was so out of it, that she’d forgotten it was a no-chain day.”
The scar on the base of his penis comes to mind, and I hold back a grimace.
“Not sure why that particular thing prompted my survival instincts to kick in, but the second that knife bit into my flesh, I shoved her as hard as I could. She fell backwards, and I grabbed the knife, stabbing it into her leg, frenzied and terrified. I started to run up the steps, but she grabbed me as soon as I reached the top.”
He laughs humorlessly, running a hand over his face.
“It was so bright up there that I couldn’t see. I’d begged for light for so long, then the damn thing blinded me as though I needed to be kicked while I was down.” His gaze comes back to mine. “She knocked me down, and I was crawling blindly, bumping into shit as she limped after me. I felt something wet hit me, and then I heard the strike of the match.”
My eyes inadvertently drop to his legs that are covered by the blanket.
“The pain I felt next was some of the worst I’d faced. My legs were burning as I ran, falling on her. I heard her scream as I scrambled out, crashing into a door and falling outside. On instinct alone, I rolled on the ground even as I screamed.”
His eyes find mine once more, staring intently as his jaw tenses.
“The first thing I was finally able to see when my eyes somewhat adjusted was that house burning rapidly, catching fire because of the gasoline she had doused me and half the floor with. And she was on fire with it. I heard her screams and I fucking smiled, knowing I’d finally hurt her as bad as she’d hurt me.”
He releases his hand that’s over mine as his look hardens.
“Then I went to the hospital, the psych ward, a foster home, and finally juvie before ending up running with Drex. My mother’s rapist was caught and put back in prison. He died before I ever had to deal with him. And my monster wasn’t the man behind bars; it was his victim who was turned into a monster. I was just collateral damage. Now you know all my secrets.”
And my heart hurts.
“Don’t show me so much pity. It’s why I don’t like for fucking people to know,” he bites out. “It was a long damn time ago, so don’t think I’m that weak little shit anymore.”
My eyebrows go up in surprise. “Pity is for strangers you care nothing about but can’t help but feel sorry for them. It’s the side effect of being human,” I say softly, leaning closer so that our faces are inches apart. “What you see right now is a range of emotions on my face. This is me being angry for you. Me hurting for you. Me wanting to go back in time and hurt her while saving you. This isn’t pity, Axle. This is me caring about you. It’s a side effect of loving you.”