Page 3 of Shredded Soul

Aron’s smile disappeared, along with the light in his eyes. “From that night on, we kept each other going until we were caught.”

Ice filled Paine’s veins. His mind shied away from the memories.

“They had come to take Paine to the killing fields—a place where people who failed the program went to die. Instead, they found his bed empty and mine doubly full. They gave me two choices: I could be the one to kill Paine or I could become one of them. I could take up the whip and finally break Paine. If I couldn’t, then he’d die, and I would be the one to do it.”

Aron stopped talking as if there were no words he could utter past that point in the story. If it wasn’t an act, then Paine understood. Nothing happened after that night that he could ever say.

“How did he end up in the alley?”

Aron shrugged, looking more like the Aron he loved before the devils broke them. “One day, I woke up and headed for the torture room where he was kept, to start my work for the day. It was empty. They said he hadn’t made it through the night. I didn’t make it through the next.”

The last few words were spoken like a dead man. Paine buried his face in the covers. As always, he felt like an empty shell. He wished he hadn’t listened. There was so much Aron either didn’t know or hadn’t said. Paine knew, though. He couldn’t forget.

A soft brush of fingertips ran down Paine’s arm. His head shot up. Aron stood beneath his bed. He looked broken. It was an act. Paine had to believe it wasn’t real.

Aron turned away and focused on Quentin, who now too stared in Paine’s direction. “Now, tell me why he’s a cat, and you didn’t know his name after ten years.”

Quentin wheeled toward the door. “Tomorrow. Adam has made up a guest room for you.”

Adam stood in the doorway, waiting for Aron to follow. Paine curled into a ball and licked his hand where Aron had touched him. “A tisket. A tasket. Aron will put me in a casket.” He quietly sang the words to himself, reminding himself of the danger. Paine had to cling to what was left of his sanity. He knew how easily Aron could take it.

Chapter Three

There was something very off about this place. Unfortunately, Charon had to stay. He had finally found Paine. It had taken longer than he ever believed. Only a few months ago, Charon had learned Paine was still alive. Two years ago, while in Prague, he had seen a ghost. Charon had tried chasing him. But Paine had disappeared as quickly and quietly as he appeared, leaving Charon wondering if it had been a hallucination. He had kept his ear to the ground, but the trail went cold. The next time, he had caught sight of him in New York. From there, Charon had to admit it hadn’t been a dream. Paine was still alive. He hadn’t stopped hunting since. Charon never dreamed one person could be so hard to find.

Now Charon understood. Paine had become nameless. Charon rubbed his chest. Two months ago, Paine had written him a letter, warning Charon he might not like what he found. Charon hadn’t expected to find this. He stared at the dark ceiling and plotted. All he had to do was get his hands on Paine and they could be out of here. They could disappear. Charon could fix what he broke.

He knew Paine was there, watching him in the dark. Charon felt him. His movements were silent, but Charon had never forgotten the way Paine sounded as he sneaked through the darkness, coming to Charon. Charon drew a ragged breath. It sounded loud in the otherwise silent room. He thought his chest might cave. His eyes stung. Charon had so many things to say. More times than he could count, Charon had practiced speeches. He thought he knew exactly what he wanted to convey. Instead, his heart needed one burning question answered.

“Why didn’t you pretend to break? I begged you to just pretend. Why didn’t you?”

Silence met his words, making him question his sanity. Sometimes, Charon thought he would die just from the memories. Now Paine was alive, and that feeling never left him.

“They would’ve killed you.”

Charon nearly jumped out of his skin when Paine’s voice sounded beneath the bed. Tears filled his eyes. He rolled, just wanting to be an inch closer. “That would’ve been okay, as long as you lived.” Charon draped his arm over the edge of bed, letting it hang there. He hoped to lure Paine closer—like a wild animal. Paine bit him. Charon didn’t flinch. Instead, he stole the opportunity to stroke Paine’s face before he got away. Paine’s bite turned into a lick, but he moved away too quickly for Charon’s heart.

“Why do you call yourself Charon? That’s what Reed calls you.”

Charon stopped breathing. “How do you know that about Reed?”

“You sound so concerned. Are you that worried about your puppy? I watched you kiss him.”

Charon’s eyes fell closed. He had done that, but it wasn’t what Paine thought. Reed had been hurting. He had been doing a favor for his friend. “It didn’t mean anything.”

“You didn’t answer me. Why, Charon?”

“You know why.” Because it was the first conversation they ever had. Paine compared the pronunciation of Aron to Charon, a fat dragon from a card game. Except Charon wasn’t the dragon. He was the scientist, but Paine never believed him about that. Charon had to hang on to some part of Paine. He had to remember why he couldn’t give up. Charon deserved the punishment of living. The Acheron had to wait until Charon atoned. He couldn’t undo the past, but he could fix this. Charon had to. He loved Paine too much to quit.

Paine waited until Aron’s breathing changed. Then he waited even longer. He couldn’t risk Aron waking. Once he was certain Aron was out cold, he made his way out from beneath the bed. Paine easily slipped into bed with Aron without disturbing him. His specialty had always been his ability to stay high, quiet, and invisible.

Up close, Aron was even bigger. His wide shoulders looked firm. Back in hell, they had been starved. Even then, Aron had been the biggest of the bunch. Now he was immaculate. Paine tugged the covers down, moving like a ghost. He slid beneath them, stealing Aron’s warmth. Paine couldn’t stay long. He couldn’t risk falling asleep. The only place he felt safe enough to sleep was his bed in the rafters. Without a ladder, no one could get to him there. They didn’t have his skills.

While Quentin had been nothing but kind, Paine never felt truly safe. No such mental space existed. Everyone became an enemy eventually. Everyone hurt him. It was better to be a cat: aloof and unbothered, unless he wanted affection. That wasn’t very often. He had seen what humans could do.

The room they had given Aron was Paine’s room. He never used the bed. Adam kept it fresh, just in case. But the closet, dressers, and bathroom were unmistakably his. Paine didn’t doubt Quentin had chosen this on purpose. He just hadn’t decided what that purpose was yet.

Paine inched closer to Aron. He was incapable of resisting. Paine leaned in and sniffed his skin. He didn’t smell the same, yet he did. There was something about him that was achingly familiar. Paine’s chest hurt. There was no one else. No matter the mental and physical scars Aron had given him, Paine had only ever loved one person. He couldn’t stop. It wasn’t possible for him to stop. God knew he had been tested. But love didn’t always win, and Paine had lost oh-so much. They would always be a painful memory that wouldn’t die.

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