My Maddie (Hades Hangmen 8)

Rudge grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me into the barn. “Brothers, did you know we have a fucking virgin in our midst!”

“Rudge, keep the fucking volume down,” Tank shouted and shook his head.

“Fuck you, arsehole. I’m gonna get our Lil’ Ash here a tight pussy to fill.” I laughed, the sound ringing strangely in my ears. But it felt good. It fucking felt good to laugh. “You, in the red dress, get the fuck over here.” A bitch with long blond hair came over on Rudge’s command. I fucking froze as she ran her hand up my chest.

My dick hardened by the second. She had long blond hair. If I strained my eyes enough, she looked just like… “Saff,” I murmured. My voice sounded fucking weird as it spilled from my mouth. “Is that Saffie?”

“Laura,” the slut said in my ear. She bit my earlobe. “But I can be anyone you want me to be, gorgeous.”

“Full works, sweetheart,” Rudge ordered. “And wrap him up first. Don’t know where you’ve been pushing that rancid pussy.” She put her hand in mine and headed for the door. Her hand felt nice in mine. I liked someone holding my hand.

Zane jumped in my path. “Ash.” He looked to the slut, then back at me. “You don’t have to do this. Think about it.” He stepped closer to me, ignoring the slut running her hands through his hair. “You don’t want her. You want someone else and we both fucking know it. Don’t fuck that up. Not for club pussy. You do this, there’s no fucking coming back from it. It’ll crush her. You know who I mean.” Saffie’s face burst into my mind. Zane stared at me, trying to make me change my mind. My stomach started feeling strange as I thought of Saffie. But I wasn’t any good for her. I ruined everything. I wouldn’t ruin her too.

Pushing past Zane, the slut led me to the forest. I stumbled on the grass, whiskey running thick in my blood. I glanced down at her hand. Everything was blurred. I caught sight of long blond hair… Saffie? Was this Saffie? No. That’s why Zane had tried to stop me. But Saffie was too good for me. This was a club slut. I deserved a club slut.

The slut pushed on my chest and my back slammed against a tree. The slut’s hand pulled open my zipper and she dropped to her knees. “Damn, honey. You’re hung.” My eyes rolled back when her mouth quickly wrapped around my cock. My hand pushed into her hair. I looked down. Blond hair. Long blond hair. Saffie. Saffie… My mind blurred, yet all I felt was Saffie around my cock. I groaned, my balls aching. But she pulled away before I could come.

My knees gave out and my ass slammed to the ground. Saffie just climbed on top. “Get ready, kid. You’re about to have the best ride of your life.”

“Shut the fuck up,” I spat. She didn’t sound like Saffie when she spoke. I didn’t like her voice. When she was quiet, with that blond hair she was Saffie. Then she sank down on my cock and my head flung back. “Fuck!” I hissed when she started moving up and down. My balls tightened as she scraped her nails along my chest. It should have hurt because of the stitches, but I felt nothing, nothing but Saffie’s pussy choking my cock. My balls tightened and I felt heat rush up my thighs. Saffie started moaning above me, her big tits falling out of her dress. I gripped them, palming them on my hands.

“Yes!” she moaned. My hand covered her mouth. I didn’t like it when she shouted. She didn’t sound like my Saffie when she made any kind of sound. Her tongue licked along my palm and she rode me faster, harder, until her head threw back and her pussy started tightening around my cock. The heat from my thighs gathered in my balls. I was coming.

“Fuck! Saff!” I groaned, eyes closing as I filled the rubber. I thrust inside her harder and harder until I was fucking drained.

“Damn, kid. You sure that was your first time?”

My eyes snapped open and some slut was staring down at me. I pushed her off me and stumbled to my feet. “Get the fuck off me.”

“Calm down, honey.” I backed away, pulling up my jeans. Turning, I stumbled through the forest. Blood rushed through my veins, but the coke felt like fucking heaven in my bones. I kept walking and walking, until saw the clearing where the cabins were. I moved through the tree line, then ground to a halt. Saffie was sitting in the yard of AK’s cabin. She was on her own, on a bench, staring up at the sky. My damn breath was sucked out of me as I watched her. I just fucking watched her, sitting in a pink dress, with her long hair down. She looked like an angel.

When Flame hadn’t recognized Maddie, he thought she was an angel. Saffie was my angel. She was perfect. My chest tightened; the coke unable to cover the crack that was opening up in my sternum again. She was everything that was good… and she was never going to be mine. I was fucked up. I’d killed people. I was nothing. She was everything. She deserved someone better. She deserved the fucking world. A cave burrowed in my gut at the thought of anyone else touching a fucking hair on her head. Saffie’s head snapped my way when bitter snarl left my throat. And when she saw me, when she recognized it was me, that fucking ghost of a smile that killed me flickered on her lips.

“Asher,” she whispered. Even in the middle of the trees, I heard her soft voice. I walked forward. My feet would always find her, always be drawn to her, I was sure. As I emerged from the shadow of the trees Saffie’s face fell. Her eyes began to water when she studied my chest. Her hand rose to cover her mouth. I stopped in front of her. My heart calmed and the crack in my chest disappeared. Saffie lowered her hand. “You are hurt.” It wasn’t a question. She blinked, her long lashes fucking hypnotizing me as they hit her cheek.

“I’m okay,” I rasped.

Saffie met my eyes and I turned away. I didn’t want her to read me. Didn’t want her to fucking see anything in me. “Asher, I—”

“Shit, honey. There you are! Didn’t dare go back to the bar until I checked you hadn’t died in the woods. Rudge would put a bullet in my brain if anything happened to you.” My blood turned to ice as I heard the slut’s voice behind me. My gaze never left Saffie. I watched as her eyes grew wide, staring over my shoulder. A hand wrapped through my hair. “You ever want another fuck, you come back to me.” The slut walked past me and Saffie. She laughed and offered some advice to Saffie. “Jump on that one, sweetheart, he’s hung like a fucking horse. Filled my cunt right up.” She disappeared back into the woods, leaving a fucking trail of destruction behind her.

Saffie didn’t meet my eyes. She stared into the woods, her body not moving. I opened my mouth to speak, when Saffie finally looked at me. And the sight fucking destroyed me. Tears shined in her eyes, her lips parted, and she drew in a stuttered breath. She stepped back, blood draining from her face. And the gaze that had always been able to read me, regarded me like I was a fucking stranger. A cleaver wouldn’t have done as good of a job as cutting open my heart as Saffie’s expression of betrayal did right now. Her hands trembled so badly at her sides that she had to curl them into fists just to gain some control. Then she turned on her heel and rushed into the cabin.

The pain that the coke had masked returned with the force of a Mack truck. Her face. Her fucking face. The tears, the fucking trembling hands. I looked from AK’s cabin, then to Flame’s. I couldn’t go in either. Forcing my feet to move, I ran to Viking’s cabin and hammered on the door.

He flung it open, throwing on a t-shirt as he did. “What? Is it Flame?”

“Can I crash here tonight?” I asked. I waited for his fucking jokes, but Viking’s eyebrows pulled down. He opened the door wider and I rushed inside.

“Ash—”

“I need a shower?” I said, pushing my hands through my hair and down my face.

“Through there,” he pointed to the bathroom. I went into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. I turned on the shower to ‘hot’ and let the steam fill the room. I couldn’t stand still. Saffie’s face haunted my mind. I slammed my fists against my skull, but I still saw her eyes, the fucking betrayal as the slut put her hand in my hair, then spoke from her whore mouth to a motherfucking angel. I tore off my clothes and jumped into the shower.

> Taking the washcloth in the shower, I began to scrub my skin, fucking scrubbing the slut’s touch from my skin. I hadn’t been fucked before. I hadn’t even been kissed. The last person to touch me was my poppa. I tried to push all memories from my head. It should have been Saffie. I’d wanted it to be Saffie. But I knew I would destroy her, like I destroyed everything else. I was fucked up. Blood ran down the drain. I glanced down and saw I had opened the wounds on my body, bandages gathering into a heap on the tiles. But I kept scrubbing them. Flame thought I had flames in my blood, like him. Demons. Maybe I did. They were tormenting me too.

Bend over, Asher… my poppa’s voice whispered in my ear. I spun around and slammed my back into the shower’s wall, trying to get away from him. No one knew. I never told anyone. No one fucking knew. I’d told Flame he hadn’t raped me. Poppa had never stuck his cock in my ass… but he’d done other things… other fucked up, painful things. But the others… Flame didn’t know. Maddie didn’t know. I’d kept it to myself. All the things he’d done, I’d always kept to myself.

I scraped at my skin, trying to get the slut’s touch from my body, my poppa’s poisonous hands. Trying to get rid of the look of betrayal from Saffie’s eyes. “I’m not good enough for you,” I spoke to the shower, fucking praying it’d make its way to Saffie in her cabin. “I was never good enough. Not after what he’d done to me. After what they’d all done…” The fight drained from my body, but I stayed on the shower floor until it had run cold.

“Ash? You doing good in there?” Viking’s voice cut through the numbness that had overtaken me.

“Yeah,” I managed to call back. Making myself stand, I left the shower stall and wrapped myself in a towel. Blood seeped from my chest. I saw myself in the mirror. I turned away in disgust. I didn’t know the person who was looking back. I fucking hated this cunt. Hated everything he was.

I opened the door, holding my clothes in my arms. Viking was waiting, huge arms folded across his chest, as he waited by the kitchen counter. “Shit, Ash,” he said and reached for his cell phone. “I’m calling Rider.”

“Don’t,” I begged, and Viking looked up. “I’ll take care of it myself.”

Viking walked over. He stared down at me. He was a fucking giant. “He’ll be okay, you know. Madds will bring him back. She did it before. She can do it again. When it comes to Flame, that bitch is a miracle worker.” Viking’s jaw clenched. I felt my fucking walls of numbness crumbling. I didn’t want to feel again. I needed the numbness. I craved numbness. I didn’t want to feel... ever again. I was sick and tired of feeling life. If it was hard to live, it was fucking torture to feel.

“You can have Rudge’s room. If the fucker even comes home, I’ll give him the couch.” I nodded. As I turned to walk away, Viking grabbed my arm and yanked me against his chest. His huge fucking arms wrapped around me and he kissed my head. “You’re a survivor, kid. You Cade brothers are fucking made of titanium or some shit. You’ll get through this. You both will.” I held my breath so I wouldn’t fall apart. I pulled away from Viking. Without looking in his eyes, I made my way to the bedroom.

I shut and locked the door, dropping my clothes to the floor. I wiped away the tears and stared out of the window opposite. It framed the woods beyond. Then they came, the people I’d killed. One by one, they came to remind me of what I’d done. They always came. And then out walked Slash, just fucking staring at me through the window, the bullet wound in his head as fresh as the day it was made. Not now. I couldn’t take this now.

My eyes dropped to my jacket as I remembered what was inside. I searched the pocket and pulled out the packet of coke, the blade, and the rolled paper. I tipped the snow onto the dresser and cut it into lines. I snorted the coke line by line until I felt the addictive numbness it brought begin to seep into my bones. My shoulders relaxed and I let out a deep breath. I cracked my eyes open and looked out of the window. I exhaled in pure relief. They were gone… Slash had disappeared.

Staggering to the bed, I lay down and let the real world fucking fade away. As I closed my eyes I saw Saffie on top of me, in the forest. I was holding her hand and kissing her soft mouth. No poppa, no echoes of what he’d done to me, and let others do to me as a kid, no slut riding my cock, just Saffie and me—no one fucking else.

I could never have her in real life. So this would do. No, this was better than real life. Real life was fucked up and it hurt to live in it. This was better—numbed, no pain, and an angel by my side. Blond hair and brown eyes, and the smile she had just for me.

Fucking perfection.

Chapter Ten

Maddie

The fire in the living room gave off the only light in our cabin. The orange glow, which filtered into the bedroom, illuminated Flame who was still sleeping soundly in bed. It had been two days since he had been returned to me. Two days since Rider and Bella came and attended to his wounds. Rider had given Flame fluids via an IV, providing him with sustenance to make him strong. Flame had to be strong. He needed to be ready to fight from the moment he opened his eyes.

Alone in our cabin, I had washed Flame. With a washcloth and soapy water, I had taken care to wipe away the remaining blood from Flame’s body. Disposed his soiled clothes, dressed him in sleep pants, and deliberately kept his injured torso bare. I had shampooed his hair, taking time to comb through the long black strands. It had grown so long. I had taken care of my husband. And with every action, I found myself praying.

When I left The Order, God had no place in my life. But seeing Flame’s peaceful face as he slumbered, I knew I wanted the peaceful rest to remain. I imagined what it would be like for Flame to awake and not feel the rush of heat in his blood. Not be reminded of his abusive past by the smallest and most innocent-looking triggers. I rested my hand on my bump. I really wanted Flame to want his baby with the same desperate need as me. I wanted him to want to be a papa without the fear that he would hurt our baby, or worse to be the reason our baby would not survive.

Lying here now, on our bed, I let my fingertips gently explore his wounds. They were beginning to heal. I had made sure I kept them clean. My brow furrowed when I ran my fingertip over the snakebite on his right pectoral muscle. The bumps were red and inflamed. I did not want to, but the sight made me think of Flame as a young boy, scared of the world and his place on it. A world that was confusing to him, but not to others. A world where he wanted to make a connection with other children—to play and to laugh, but the know-how was a mystery to him. I swallowed back the gutting lump in my throat. I gently drifted the back of my hand over his cheek, the hair from his beard soft to the touch. His beard was now washed free of blood and he no longer felt the pain from being strapped tightly to a tree.

Sometimes I wished I could be Flame for a day, simply to understand what the world revealed itself to him. And to measure how different it was to the way it was revealed to me. I wished I could understand how the flames in his blood made him feel. How it managed to wear him down, minute by minute, until his only reprieve was to cut his skin and feel his blood spill.

I bit my lip when it began to tremble. I refused to shed anymore tears. I had to be strong for us both. I could not predict what would greet me when Flame opened his eyes. I had no idea if he would know me. I had no means of knowing if internal flames would be scalding his flesh, forcing him to fight to be free of them. Whatever happened, I would be here and fight beside him.

Flame inhaled deeply. I tensed, but I let myself relax when he exhaled, still in a deep sleep. My heart raced slightly at this false alarm. I held Flame’s hand and brought his fingers to my lips, kissing each in turn. I had once asked Rider what he believed was wrong with Flame. Why Flame saw the world in a different light. Being raised in The Order, anyone who was different or did not toe the line of Prophet David vanished from everyday life. To this day, I was unsure where most people had been taken. There were mysteries in my previous life that I knew to which I would never find the answer. But Rider surpr

ised me, he had an answer regarding Flame.

Rider told me it was purely his observation. However, when I pushed, he explained to me why Flame saw the world the way he did, why certain actions of his were amplified where others were not. He explained why Flame could not maintain eye contact with people. Rider told me it was a rare occurrence that Flame could hold my gaze. Because I am his and he is mine, I thought. Our love transcended ailments and pre-existing conditions. When Rider concluded his explanation, I was confident he was correct in his assessment.

With Flame’s history of abuse, things were of course more complicated. But to me, this was Flame—the veritable love of my life. I did not want him to change. I adored him just the way he was… with one exception—I wanted him to break free from the shackles he was bound by. By the flames, snakes, the myriad horrors of his past, his poppa and his mama. This current episode I knew mainly stemmed from the memory of Isaiah.

I also knew that if Flame did not forgive himself for his baby brother’s death, he would keep falling. He would keep breaking… and he would never be free. It was time he breathed easier. It was time he liberated himself from the prison in which he was incarcerated.

I stared at the shadows from the fire as they danced on our bedroom walls. I imagined how a free Flame would behave. I thought of our child, laughing and running through the woods. And I saw Flame, also playing, running after them, his arms free from fresh scars, as he scooped her or him into his embrace and held our child to his chest. I saw our child smiling up at their papa, pure love in their eyes.

My breathing hitched as I imagined Flame kissing our child on the forehead as he spoke of his undying love. That she or he was the light of his life. I felt a tear run down my cheek. I quickly wiped away the tear and it broke my dream. But I would not forget. I would not let the hope for that life, for that Flame, to be erased from my mind. I knew, together, we could help him, we just needed to find our way. The path to that goal was blurred, overgrown with weeds and spiked branches. But we would walk forward, clearing each obstruction, piece by piece, until we could scramble through.