My Maddie (Hades Hangmen #8)(57)

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 surprised 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.