Branded (Ignite #2)

Obviously, bat shit crazy runs in the Castillo family.

“My best fucking friend!” he screams suddenly. “Do you know there wasn’t anything left of Jordan after that fire? That they had to use my best friend’s dental records to identify his body? It should have been Collin and the man you’ve been fucking. THEY should have been the ones to burn!”

I really don’t want to piss him off any more, but I can’t just sit here and let him excuse the man who tried to kill Finnley and place all the blame on Collin and DJ.

“You have lost your fucking mind!” I yell back. “Jordan doused her carpets in gas and lit the place on fire while she was inside. Collin and DJ did what they had to do to get Finnley out. They tried to save him, but he refused to leave. Did you know that? He backed away from the window in a room surrounded by flames and wouldn’t let Collin pull him out. He knew what he did was wrong and he wanted to die!”

Jackson screams at the top of his lungs, throwing his fist into the fridge above my head before walking over to the cupboards and ripping half of the doors off their hinges. I duck and hold my arms over my head as best I can as wooden doors start flying at me, bouncing off of my legs and crashing into walls.

“YOU’RE LYING! YOU’RE FUCKING LYING! HE WOULD NEVER DO THAT! JORDAN WOULD NEVER LEAVE ME ON PURPOSE! I WAS LIKE A BROTHER TO HIM!”

He continues to rage and scream as he tears apart the kitchen, toppling over the kitchen chairs and pulling dusty plates and bowls from the doorless cupboards, shattering them on the kitchen tile. When he’s cleared out the cupboards, he rushes out of the room and comes back seconds later with a huge red gas can in his hands. He mutters to himself as he flips the top of the spout and begins pouring it all around me. My heart drops and my eyes go wild with fear as I watch him douse every bit of the kitchen, from the ceiling to the walls to the floor. Gas drips from the ceiling and makes puddles all around me.

When the can is empty, he tosses it across the room and stalks over to me, his shoes crunching on the broken ceramic and glass that covers the floor. He gets down on his knees in front of me and quickly pulls his gun out of his holster, pressing it right into my forehead.

“You’re a liar and a fucking whore! I’m tired of listening to your bullshit. This all could have been avoided if you would have just stayed away from Taylor! Now it’s HIS turn to lose someone he loves!” he shouts, shoving the barrel of the gun harder against my skull.

“If you pull that trigger with all the gas in here, you’re going to kill both of us,” I try to reason with him.

He laughs maniacally before leaning down to get right in my face. “Do you think I give a shit? Do you honestly think I would make it out of this alive, anyway? I’m a cop, Phina. Cops don’t survive very long in prison.”

I squeeze my eyes closed and pray to God that DJ isn’t the one who finds me here. He’ll never forgive himself for letting me walk away from him tonight and finding my charred remains in this kitchen would haunt him for the rest of his life. This fucking kitchen…where all my nightmares began and I guess they are going to end, as well. I wish I could tell him I’m sorry. I wish I could tell him that I never meant to push him away, that I love him more than I ever thought possible. He’s the missing piece I’ve been looking for all my life, the only one who could’ve stopped the pain for good. I feel like I’m starring in a fucking Lifetime movie. The idiot that’s about to die always realizes her mistakes at the very end.

I start to whisper DJ’s name, over and over, mixing with my quiet sobs. Just the sound of his name in my ears makes me regret everything I did wrong with him and wish I had a chance to do it over. I would never push him away and I would fight to be good enough for him. Even though he’s not with me right now, I can feel his arms around me, telling me everything is going to be okay.

I suddenly hear the slide of the release dropping the bullet into the chamber and I’m surprised I don’t feel an ounce of pain when the gun explodes.

I knew that little weasel was trouble. There was somethin’ off about him when he came to visit me in the pen, fishin’ around for information about my baby. I was stupid in the beginnin’, enjoyin’ the first visitor I had in fifteen years and I talked his ear off about her. I shoulda known better. You can never trust the fucking cops.

I wasn’t a good man before I got locked up. I made a lot of mistakes. When I die, the pearly gates will be locked tight and I’ll be headed somewhere much warmer, and that’s okay because it’s what I deserve. The good Lord giveth and the good Lord taketh away. He gave me a good life and I pissed all over it. The only reason I didn’t mouth off at my parole board hearin’ was because of this moment, right here. The one where I could make amends for my mistakes. I been prayin’ over this for weeks, lookin’ for direction from Him on what I should do to earn forgiveness from the one person still on this earth who means something to me and He finally answered my prayers. Lord knows the cops didn’t answer them when I called earlier and told them one of their own was a turncoat.

I’ve spent every wakin’ moment since I walked outta the pen followin’ my baby, tryin’ to find the right time to talk to her and tell her how sorry I am for the man I used to be. I saw that little fucker light the fire around the ambulance and then play it off like someone else did it. I watched him cut the brake line on someone’s car around the corner from my baby. I coulda taken him out both those times, but I’m a changed man. The Lord says thou shalt not kill.