Rella may be new to Malus, but she’s a native Sweet Haven resident. I’ll be damned if she’ll be mistreated in even the slightest way. Heads will roll, and pain will follow.
She slows to a stop in front of The Hill. “Does Mae still live in the house behind The Hill?”
“Yes. Her house is one of the only places here that wasn’t refurbished or torn down. She wanted to keep it the same from when Dale was alive.”
“I still can’t believe he’s gone,” she whispers grievously. Her sadness makes my chest feel tight. “How did he die?”
“In his sleep. His heart gave out. It was painless.”
“Well, at least there’s that. I’m glad he didn’t suffer. I can’t imagine the heartache Mae went through.”
“It was tough the first few months, but once she came here, things got better for her.”
She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and regards me. “She didn’t come with you guys when you first came back?”
“No. Her and Dale wanted to stay in Kentucky.”
There’s more to the story than that, but Rella’s not ready to hear it yet. In time, she’ll know everything.
“Tell me about the night you escaped.”
My scalp tightens, and anger has my fingers twitching. The night of the raid is something I’ll regret for the rest of my life. Not because of what happened, but because of what I didn’t do. Standing in front of Trouble and Rella’s house, my gut told me to go inside and beat the truth out of their parents before the cops got to them. On top of waking up to hear Rella’s screams the night before, I was in denial that she was really gone. It was too painful to believe. I should have listened to my gut. Rella could have been with us this whole time.
I fight the urge to reach in my pocket for the key and turn to face her instead.
“Mae and Dale got the note Mick and Deanna sent the night before. It was Hell Night, but things didn’t go down until early in the morning, after everything ended. Trouble, JW, Judge, and I were to meet Mae and Dale behind The Hill. It got so late, I worried the note was fake an
d the police weren’t going to show up. But then they did, and they were all over the place. Breaking into houses, chasing after people who were running. Some were shot when they fought back with their own weapons.” The vein in my neck begins to throb as my blood pressure rises. “Some managed to get away. It took us time to navigate around everything going on, but we made it behind The Hill and we all left. We went to Kentucky, where Mae’s great-aunt left her a place when she died.”
“You said some got away.” Her voice quivers, uneasiness creeping on her face.
“Yes, but you don’t need to worry about them.”
There’s only a few more people left of the ones who got away that night, and their time is coming to an end. I keep that to myself.
She shivers, and it takes every bit of control I possess to not pull her to my chest to warm her. Which is very uncommon for me. I’m not like Rella; I don’t dislike touch because it terrifies me, but because it comes with emotions. Every touch means something. Whether it be for love, compassion, joy, heartache, or trust. Doesn’t matter what. I just don’t want anything to do with it. Aside from my brothers, the only thing I feel when I touch someone is pure hatred, and that kind of touch is extremely painful for the person receiving it. The exception is on the occasions when my mind turns black and I need an outlet, but there’re no perpetrators to take my anger out on. Even then, my sexual exploits would be considered dark and a bit insidious.
For me to want to touch Rella now in any way is foreign to me. What’s more strange is the fact that I didn’t cringe or back away the day she explored my face.
“Emo?” A voice calls from behind me, and Rella and I both turn around.
Grace is walking down the street toward us. Her eyes move to Rella, a curiosity crossing her face.
“Grace,” I grunt as she comes to a stop.
She quickly flicks her eyes to Rella for a second before moving them back to me. “How have you been?”
“Fine.”
My tone is abrupt, but Grace takes no offense. It’s nothing personal against her. She’s been around me enough to know how I am.
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you.” Her eyes flick down to my hands, I’m sure looking for any fresh wounds. My latest gash is on my forearm, so she can’t see it, and the ones on my palms aren’t bad enough for bandages. I ball my hands into fists.
Grace is one of the only people I allow to get even remotely close to me. Trouble, JW, and Judge are a given because they’re my brothers. Grace, along with Madison and Janet, are the only women I’ve had sex with in twenty-four years. They’re the only ones I’ve found who can handle the type of sexual release I need. Out of the three of them, I prefer Grace the most. I haven’t been with Madison or Janet in over a year.
Grace is beautiful in the traditional sense, with her blonde hair, light blue eyes, perfectly slim build, and angelic face. She’s sweet and docile, but has a hidden darker side that she shows when I ask her to.
She’s also loving and caring, which is why I haven’t called on her in months. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, and I’m afraid she’s becoming too attached. Even if I wasn’t fucked-up in the head and could handle more than quick, painful fucks, I still wouldn’t be good enough for her. My soul is too tainted. She needs someone who will cherish her and fill her life with light.