The Fall(63)

She opened and shut her mouth a few times before she finally settled on what she was going to say. “Whatever I decide, it should be my choice.”

“Not if it involves me.”

Her face pinked like she’d been slapped, her feet taking her back out the doorway.

“I’m not asking you for anything.” She wrapped her arms around her chest, her body dwarfed by my shirt. “I’m not expecting you to change.”

“Yes, yes you are.” My eyes nailed hers as I stepped closer. “You think this is something you can fix and I can’t be repaired. It’s enough that I don’t want to kill you, don’t ask me for things I can’t give you.”

It was as honest as I was going to get. She’d cracked me open, and I’d told her things that no one else could know and still be breathing. She had been the first person I’d ever wanted to keep safe, and while those emotions made no sense to me, I indulged them anyway. Probably because I had no idea what the f*cking alternative was.

“I need to go out.” I didn’t wait for a response, grabbing my duffle and pulling out some clean clothes.

“You’re running away.” She moved slowly to the bed, her ass lowered onto the mattress as she watched me pull on a pair of boxer shorts.

“No, I’m not.” I shook my head still wondering if my bright f*cking idea wasn’t going to explode in my face. Hell, this had bad news written all over it and the fact I was still considering it was boggling.

“That’s bullshit, I never run.” I snapped a little more than I would have liked. “I want nothing more than to climb in that bed with you, get inside you some more and forget what we are dealing with,” I said slowly, deliberately meeting her eyes so she knew I was on the level. “But the reason I’m walking is because I feel that way. I need to make sure you come out of this whole.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Her brows scrunched up in confusion, not having the benefit of my plan to help her connect the dots. It was better if she didn’t know. There were still no guarantees any of it would come together anyway.

“Then just trust that I gave you my word.” I pulled on a pair of jeans and zipped up the fly. “It’s all I’ve ever had and I don’t throw it around lightly.”

She nodded slowly, hopefully understanding what those words meant but continued to watch as I got dressed.

“Try and get some sleep.”

I walked over to where she was sitting on the edge of the bed, tipping her face in my hands. Her eyes were glassy, and she was blinking fast but no tears fell.

She wouldn’t cry in front of me right now; I knew she wouldn’t. She wanted me to know she was strong, that she could do whatever it would take and she figured not crying would send me that memo. What she didn’t know is that I already knew she was a gladiator; I’d seen her strength time and time again. But I didn’t tell her that, probably because if I did then she’d give herself permission for those tears to fall. And I just couldn’t see that now.

“One way or another, Sofia, this will all end soon.”

I grabbed the rest of my stuff and walked out of the room.

***

It was still dark when my boots bounded up the stairs of the old church. The heavy doors slammed behind me, the sound ricocheting off the walls loud enough to wake the dead while the moonlight filtered through the big stained glass.

I hated this place.

I’d fantasized about torching it and watching it burn so many times I’d been almost surprised to see it still standing. But there it was, still rock solid on its foundation. The huge ass crucifix mounted on the back wall glaring accusingly at any of the sheeple gullible enough to swallow the lie, and in my pyro daydreams, it was the first thing I’d set alight.

It never closed, a twenty-four hour minimart dealing out redemption to those who believed their slate could be wiped clean. Except it couldn’t, but the lie they told themselves helped them sleep at night, and it was cheaper than Ambien.

“My son.” The collared * who seemed to be in charge walked toward me, rubbing his eyes like he’d just woken up.

His kindhearted smile faltered when he saw my heated glare. I didn’t exactly have a good track record with parental units in the past and I sure as shit wasn’t looking to expand now.

“I’m not your son.” I squared my shoulders as my skin prickled, warning me killing this dumbass wasn’t a good idea. Even though it would give me an insane amount of pleasure, I would let this useless meat suit keep living. For now.

He stuttered, the usual response when someone looked at me for the first time. “We are all God’s children.”

“Save it for the ones who toss coins into your collection plate.” I barked out a laugh. Seriously? He was going to get all Colossians 1:16 on me? I’d read the Bible, which is how I knew it was all a bunch of fairytales designed to make people conform. “I’m not here looking for salvation.”

To my step forward, he stepped back, his hands adjusting the collar around his neck like it was a noose tightening. “What is it that you want?” His Adam’s apple bobbed like he couldn’t quite swallow what he had in his mouth. “We don’t have any money here. No drugs.”

Another laugh, this time a little louder than the last. Of course this * would see a guy like me and assume he knew the score. So much for not judging and we are all God’s children blah, blah, blah. I didn’t even bother setting him straight, not worth wasting the breath correcting him because I really didn’t give a shit.