Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Chapter Fifteen
Some said sinners go to hell and saints go to heaven.
If that was the truth, then I’d lived the past eight years in brimstone and fire.
My heart burned with lies and a need so fucking deep to believe every word Sarah said. I wanted to have the strength to let go of my hate and just… give in.
But everything I did, every path I followed, and every revenge-filled purpose I followed wasn’t for me but for her.
I owed her memory vengeance.
I owed her peace.
Because I saw how she died.
I’d witnessed the end.
And she would be screaming in purgatory until I gave her justice.
By taking the lives of those who took ours.
Everything else I wanted—it wasn’t enough to make me stop.
—Kill
Cleo.
Her name was Cleo.
My name is Sarah.
Cleo.
He killed her.
The pressuring headache of believing a fabricated lie of my own creation clouded my vision. How did I have memories that I couldn’t explain? How did I live a past that might not even be real?
Cleo.
It didn’t ring any hopeful bells inside. It didn’t tug on threads of a past I thought was true.
I retreated into myself, and didn’t raise my eyes as the dining room emptied like sands through splayed fingers, leaving just Kill, Grasshopper, and me.
“I’ll take her.” Grasshopper reached for me. I didn’t struggle as his hands landed on my shoulders, pulling me from Kill’s crushing tender hold.
Everything inside that’d been so passionate and raw had mysteriously disappeared. I’d been consumed by the black hole, fallen through the crater that my nightmare earthquake had created. I’d plummeted into the amnesiac darkness completely.
I was done.
“You okay, dude?” Grasshopper asked when Kill remained silent and frozen. He barely breathed, his boots glued to the floor.
It took a minute for him to reply. Clearing his throat, Kill said, “I will be once she’s gone.”
I flinched, wishing I could fall to the floor and nurse my bleeding heart.
“Well… I’ll get going, then. You just, um, rest up. I’ll be back soon enough.” Grasshopper guided me toward the door.
Back without me. Their lives would continue… without me.
I didn’t look back.
I couldn’t look back.
The door closed behind us and I hunched over my gnawing stomach. The pain deep inside devoured me.
“It’ll be okay,” Grasshopper whispered. “You’ll see. It’s for the best—for everyone.”
I had no reply. I doubted I’d speak again. Why bother when it only brought more disaster?
We kept walking.
Past the first magazine of Kill and his mug shot.
Past the next one of him looking part businessman, part biker lord.
With each step I left pieces of myself behind, leaving a trail of crumbs for no one to follow or seek the girl lost inside me. I would leave. And never come back. My one chance was over—the life I believed was a lie.
I no longer trusted myself. I didn’t trust a brain that was so adamant and fed such lifelike occurrences—staining my sanity until I knew I must be mad.
At least my imagination excelled. It would be the one place I could escape to when my future in slavery became too much.
“Wait.” Kill’s voice rang out.
Grasshopper stopped, his fingers tightening on my elbow to stop me, too.
I didn’t turn around but my back prickled as Kill moved toward us.
“Forget something?” Grasshopper asked.
My ears strained for Kill’s reply, even now wishing upon wishes that he had made a mistake and finally realized it.
“I’ll take her.”
What?
God, no. Please. I couldn’t have him take me away and deliver me to someone else. It would be the epitome of callousness. He’d already daggered my heart, he didn’t need to keep twisting it.
Grasshopper let me go, stepping aside as Kill took his place. “Are you sure? I mean—”
“I’m sure. I need to see with my own eyes that she’s gone.”
My nerve endings sprang to life the moment his fingers wrapped around my wrist.
Grasshopper huffed. “You don’t trust me to do it?”
Kill growled. “Yes, I trust you. But I need to do this. I need to know that I’ll never suffer again.”
Suffer?
What a heartless bitch he made me sound. I’d meant to heal his brokenness, not make it worse. I’d offered my love, my kindness and friendship—how did he think my goal was to make him hurt?
“I get that,” Grasshopper said. “I’ll call ahead and let the buyer know you’re the one coming.”
“Good. Thanks.”
Awkwardness settled and Kill’s fingers tightened around my wrist.
“Okay, Sarah. Guess this is good-bye.” Grasshopper’s voice reluctantly tugged me from my sad stupor.
I swallowed, keeping my head down and eyes averted. “Thanks. For trying, at least.”
Kill flinched. I hoped he heard the reprimand in my voice directed at him—for his lack of belief or decency of just listening to me.
Kill dragged me forward without another word.
Past the last magazine cover.
Past where I’d stood and stripped for him.
Through the compound and into the garage.
Cleo.
Her name was Cleo. It sounded right… but wrong.