Rella has always been very special. I’ve known from the beginning that she never blamed me for our past, but I’ve never really understood why. Despite me being forced to hurt her, it would be normal for her to hold resentment toward me. For her to blame me for my part. That she doesn’t is a testament to just how amazing she is.
It also proves she’s too forgiving and naïve. If she won’t protect herself from me, then I’ll have to do it for her.
I look down at my hands and see nothing but disgust. Palms and fingers riddled with scars and tainted with the evils of my past. My whole fucking body is stained with evil, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to cleanse it. The only chance I have at redemption is to punish the ones who made me what I am today. To kill every last free soul who hurt Rella and my brothers. And even then, it won’t be enough. It never will be.
With a growl, I launch my fist at the tile wall beside the sink, relishing the pain as my knuckles split open and blood drips down my fingers.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
EMO
The Past
MY BROTHERS AND I WALK down the road that leads to the gazebo. I kick a rock and ignore them as they shove each other and joke around. I just want to get there, grab Rella, who’s waiting on us, and get to the pond. It’s so hot outside you could practically fry an egg on the concrete.
“I bet you ten bucks I can shoot further than you,” JW ribs Trouble.
Trouble scoffs. “Do you even have ten bucks to bet?”
“Yep. I got me a crisp twenty-dollar bill in my pocket from raking the Sterns’ yard.”
“Asshole,” Trouble grumbles. “That was supposed to be my twenty dollars.”
JW snickers. “You were the one who kept putting it off. Not my fault you’re a slacker.”
“Whatever.” Trouble rolls his eyes. “Let’s just do this. You’re about to split that money with me.”
I come to a stop when the others do, irritation wearing my patience thin. Crossing my arms over my chest, I stand off to the side as Trouble and JW line up beside each other.
“Judge, you be the judge,” JW says with a stupid cheesy grin.
Shaking his head, Judge walks over. “You hit me, and your ass is grass.”
Trouble claps his hands and rubs them together while JW shakes out his arms. They both have huge grins on their faces. They look ridiculous.
“You ready?”
Trouble nods. “You go first since you made the bet.”
JW makes a deep sound in the back of his throat, his nose wrinkling and his chest rising, trying to get a big loogie. He pulls back his head, then jerks it forward, letting the phlegm fly. It lands about ten feet away, only a couple of inches from Judge’s feet.
“Hah!” JW cheers, turning
to point his finger at Trouble. “Beat that!”
“Gladly.”
Trouble does the same as JW and hacks his throat so much it sounds like he’s choking. A moment later, spit sails from his mouth.
With a smirk, Trouble pulls something from his pocket. “Look at that, I just happen to have change for a twenty. Give it over.” He wiggles his fingers.
JW grumbles as he hands over his twenty-dollar bill. “You cheated,” he gripes, snatching the two fives Trouble hands him as change.
“Did not, and you know it.”
“Are you two morons done? It’s hotter than hell out here,” Judge asks.
“Yep,” Trouble answers. Smiling, he pockets his winnings and starts walking again.