Branded (Savage Men 4)

Taking a deep breath, I pick up a few chunks of wood and throw them into the fireplace, lighting them with my Zippo. Then I grab the iron and place it between the fire.

I sit down on the chair and wait.

It seems to take forever, but I’ve got the time.

There’s nothing else for me to do, no place else to go. This is it. The final stop. The epic ending to my miserable tale.

When the iron turns red, I take off my clothes layer by layer until I’m only wearing pants. I pick up the iron and take a deep breath. I go to my knees in front of the fire and close my eyes. Then I put the iron against my back.

I yowl in pain. The iron drops to the floor. I brace myself against the floor, digging my nails into the wood. A burning pain shoots through my veins. My skin is on fire. Literally.

Fuck. It hurts.

But it’s a necessary pain. A pain I had to endure as punishment. A branding that leaves a permanent seal on my body as proof of my crimes.

It’s almost over now. Almost all the names on my list have been erased from existence.

There’s only one left now … mine.

The final name I put on my back. A final sin to abolish and crucify.

Me.

I’m the single cause of all the pain and suffering in my own life and that of the ones I love. Now that I’ve finished everything I needed to do, I’m finally ready to call it quits.

So I pick up a burning log from the pile and bring it with me downstairs, where I place it on the shelves. I snatch a canister of oil from the shelves and light it on fire somewhere in the corner of the shop. That way, I’m sure it’ll all go down fast.

Fetching a chair from the back, I sit down in the middle of the aisle, watching it all go down.

Fire has always fascinated me. It’s what’s pushed me along all my life, the urge to burn everything in my path. Destruction. Death. Me.

They come hand in hand.

I’ve never known anything but pain, and so pain will be my end.

I blink a couple of times while coming to terms with my own decided fate.

I stare up at the blood-painted ceiling of the Stop & Shop. The place I used to call my home. Its wooden floors are stained with soot as the wallpaper and everything in between burned to a crisp.

What went down here, in this town, never should have happened.

Immense pain and unrelenting suffering.

Death might have been quick, but the mark it left on this place … on me … is permanent.

And it’s all because of me.

My actions. Every misstep. Every obsession and every desire.

It all led to this moment.

None of it should have ever happened. Not me, not my fiery rage. None of it … But especially not her.

Dixie Burrell. The one girl I always wanted but could never have. Not truly. Not fully. Never completely mine even though I tried so fucking hard.

Damn … I even killed for her.

And it fucking ruined us both.

I should’ve never set my eyes on her. Should’ve never let her get close and witness the real me. The dark monster hiding within.

She should’ve never stepped foot in this shop all those years ago. Should’ve never opened her pretty mouth in front of me and spoken a single word with that sweet, sinful voice of hers.

Because with her sassy stubbornness, that gorgeous body, and fascinating mind, she left her mark on my heart and tainted my very essence … Blackened my soul until nothing but fire and ash were left.

And now she’ll be my undoing.

I sit down on a chair and witness the decimation around me, the beautiful chaos of the smoke filling the air, and the flames licking the windows. I don’t intend to move even an inch.

I’ve set my memories on fire.

And with them, I’ll burn too.

* * *

Dixie

In the middle of the night, I’m listening to the radio while working on my latest gadget. The reporters are talking about the local news. Their voices usually calm me but not tonight.

“Breaking news, everyone! A local resident has reported a building in the middle of town is on fire. We don’t know the validity of this report, but we’ll make sure to alert the fire department. It appears to be a local Stop & Shop.”

My eyes widen.

Brandon.

My stool tumbles to the floor as I jump up and run out the door, hastily grabbing my coat on the way. I rush to my truck and chase it off the property. With screeching tires, I manage to enter the town, going faster than the speed limit. But right now, none of that matters.

It’s him. It has to be him.