My Maddie (Hades Hangmen #8)(17)

Slash. Fucking Slash, my best friend, on the ground, blood pouring from his head. He’d sacrificed himself for me. Slash had fucking died for me. I tried to get the image of his eyes wide open, staring at nothing, out of my head. But the image stayed put. It haunted me, constantly reminding me that it should have been me lying dead on the ground, not fucking Slash. I wanted to rip the image from my brain. But the sight of my best friend, dead, never went away. It was fucking tattooed on my brain forever. My guilt was like a fucking festering sore, poisoning my body with anger, violence, and so much fucking darkness I felt I was a motherfucking VIP in Tartarus.

“Mr. Cade?” A voice was trying to cut into my thoughts, of the memory of me reaching for a gun and opening firing on the cunts that had just killed my friend. I’d used the newfound darkness that occupied my soul to exact revenge. I’d had to do something for my friend who had just fucking bled out on the ground at my feet. My blood sang as the bullets sliced through flesh, the feeling of delivering death was like a hit of heroin. But no matter how many people I took down, the anger stayed put. Every day the anger grew stronger and the blackness grew darker, until it was all that defined me. It had a pulse, a heartbeat throbbing every fucking day until I exhaled nothing but rage. Nothing helped. It felt like there was no fucking way back to the old me.

“Mr. Cade!” Mr. Benson’s louder tone ripped me from the sinkhole that was my ever fucked up mind. I blinked, the starkly decorated classroom coming back into focus. The other students in the classroom were watching me, some blankly through boredom, others with disgust. I was a Hangmen kid. To these rich, entitled fuckers, I was shit on the soles of their designer shoes. Zane and me were nothing. I was glad. I didn’t ever be one of these privileged fuckers. I was brought up being locked up in a cellar. What the fuck did they know about struggling?

“Mr. Cade!”

“What?” I snapped. Mr. Benson’s eyes narrowed at my outspoken attitude.

“Have you even been listening?”

I couldn’t be fucked with this shit. Why the fuck was I in a classroom supposedly learning about shit I didn’t care about, when there were cartel members still in Texas that needed taking out? I wouldn’t stop until anyone who had even bought, or distributed Quintana’s shit was dead. Styx didn’t understand. He had just banned me from the club, also Smiler, who had disappeared of the face of the fucking earth. The only other person who understood how I felt had fucked off. I was consumed by anger. But Smiler…? The devil had him now. I’d retained enough of myself to understand that the difference between him and me was profound. He’d lost his cousin. Slash was practically his son. I saw in Smiler’s eyes that the old Smiler was never ever coming back. Didn’t fucking want to come back. Hades well and truly owned him now. Me? I was busy trying to cling the fuck on to some distant flicker of fucking light. But I was losing. I could feel I was losing the fucking battle with every minute that passed.

The bell rang, ending the session and my standoff with Mr. Benson. I grabbed my stuff and strode out of the door before he could even try to have a heart to heart with me. He’d tried and failed many times before. I didn’t care what anyone at this school had to say about me. I saw how they looked at us: the bikers. The guys all feared us. The bitches wanted to fuck us, but it was all from afar. No one came close. I was glad. I had a family at the club. Or at least I did, until I was thrown out for trying to get revenge for a brother who was slain in cold blood. The kills were fucking just.

I smashed out of the door and headed toward the bleachers. It was lunch and I needed a motherfucking smoke. Tobacco and whiskey were the only things keeping me from climbing the fucking walls on the daily. As the dry grass crunched under my feet, I thought back to AK slamming my door open this morning and dragging me from my bed. “You’re going to school. This shit stops now. You’ll graduate if I have to sit in the fucking classes with you myself.” I snapped my arm back from him, ready to fucking tell him where to go, when Maddie entered the doorway. Her green eyes were so fucking sad. Something was going on with her lately. She was acting weird and she looked sick all the damn time. Flame was fucking falling apart over it. My brother paced all the time, his black eyes were blown and totally fucking psychotic. I should’ve asked him what was up or asked Madds. But I didn’t want to know any of it, couldn’t handle any more bad news. So I stayed the fuck away as much as I could. Got fucked up when I had no choice but to be at home.

Drunk felt a whole lot better than sober. Sober brought memories of Slash taking a slug to his fucking head. Why the fuck would I want to relive that?

“Asher,” Maddie had said, her soft voice never raised, even when I was being a complete dick. Memories from last night flickered in my head like an old black and white movie. My feet were glued to the spot and I recalled her hand on my face… you are loved… you are so very, very loved…

Maddie had stood beside AK, whose arms were folded over his chest. My jaw fucking clenched at the way he was watching me—strict, unmoving, but laced with empathy. I didn’t want pity. I just wanted this damn darkness to go away. “Asher,” Maddie repeated. pulled my gaze away from AK. “Sapphira is starting school today. Your school.” On hearing those words, something fucking insane happened inside my mind, something that hadn’t happened in weeks and weeks. At the sound of her name, at the image that quickly popped into my head, my anger receded for a brief fucking moment. Blond hair and brown eyes flashed in front of my mind’s eye. Pink lips and dimpled cheeks, a barely there smile. I coughed when a fucking dull ache slammed into my chest.