Page 81 of Wicked Revenge

The emotional clog in my throat is back, but she doesn’t seem to need a response from me. We cling to each other, feeding each other silent comfort as we try to process everything we just unleashed.

My hand glides along the curve of her spine. I can feel the raised edges of her scars against the pads of my fingers. I will never understand why someone would hurt another human like this, but the scars on my back tell their own gruesome story of King’s wickedness.

It’s a time I’d rather not think about, and the sole reason I have the skull tattoo covering every inch of my back. I can hide the scars he left on my body, but some scars run deeper than skin.

My Angel knows the depths of his perversions all too well. It’s not a question of what trauma she endured but of how deep the scars go. They don’t end on her skin.

Her soul will forever be stained with his vile depravity, but I will spend the rest of my life removing his tainted touch from every inch of her.

“Can I ask you a question?” She asks, not moving from her position on my chest.

“Anything, Angel.”

“Why were you so angry about my cottage? Did you know who owned it before me?”

I knew she would ask eventually. My visceral reaction to the entire situation was bad. I’m ashamed of how easily I let my anger control me and I owe her an explanation.

“I own it. Well, I did. I don’t know how it was listed for sale. It doesn’t make sense.”

Running my fingers through my hair and down my face, I struggle to gather the courage to continue. This trauma has been buried for so many years.

“That’s the house I grew up in before I went into foster care. It’s where I lived with my mom and baby sister until I was eight. She wasn’t a good mother– drugs were more important than raising her kids. She spiraled out of control when my father died. When the money ran out, used her body for her next fix. When I was seven, my baby sister– Rose– was born from her addiction.

“She couldn’t take care of herself, much less two kids. So, I did everything I could for Rose. But it wasn’t enough. When she was barely a year old, I came home from school one day and found my mother dead on the kitchen floor. Rose wasn’t with her. She had puked all over herself, with blood and the remnants of pills caked into her hair and on her skin. Her pupils were giant. I didn’t know at the time that meant they were blown. It scared me at first because I thought she was just staring at me, but then she didn’t follow me with her eyes or blink. When I realized she was dead, I knew I had to find Rose. I searched every room in a panic until I found her floating in the bathtub. My mother drowned my baby sister and then overdosed. Those images will forever be scarred in my mind, my baby sister and my mother.

“The next few weeks are kind of a blur, I don’t remember much. I was placed in a foster home that was even worse than my mother's house, but that’s where I met Maddox and Alek a year later.

“The house was transferred to me on my 18th birthday. I gutted and remodeled it to what it is now. I couldn’t let it go, but I also couldn’t walk through the door without seeing all the ways I failed Rose.”

An unrestrained tear sneaks down my cheek, making me pause. I don’t remember the last time I cried, but this feels different. It’s cathartic– healing wounds I’ve kept buried for decades.

Raena pulls herself up, straddling my lap and taking my face into her hands. Tears stream down her own cheeks as she holds my gaze.

“You were a child, Royal. You didn’t fail Rose any more than I failed Grams or my daughter. I know what this guilt feels like– I’ve carried it for years. I've asked myself the same questions over and over– Why couldn’t my mom put me before the drugs? Why did King take me? Why couldn’t I protect the ones I loved the most?

“Do you know what I learned? We can’t control the actions of others. We just get to survive the consequences. We were just children, forced to play a game we weren’t meant to win. This is why I became The Hunter. I refuse to stand back and allow this broken cycle to continue. Innocent people– children, forced to live and die at the mercy of a Monster. Sometimes, you need a bigger monster. So I became one,” she declares.

I wipe away her stray tears the same way she did mine and grip the back of her head, pulling her to my face.

“You’re no monster, Angel. You’re a Queen. Destined to rule from the battlefield, wearing the blood of the wicked as armor, with the Shadows as your shield, and your soul as a sword.”

***

Raena is sleeping peacefully in my arms when my brothers walk back through my bedroom door looking freshly showered after their workout downstairs. Their hungry eyes roam over our naked girl that's sprawled out across my chest.

“Did you work out your issues?” Alek asks.

His brown eyes almost look black in this dim light, but I know it’s mostly due to the little vixen he can’t pull his gaze from. My mental barriers are still down, and I almost want to slam them back into place but I haven’t felt this light, this free, in my entire life.

“We did,” I answer him honestly, holding Raena closer to me as both of them climb into the bed on either side of us. Their hands immediately move to touch her, needing to connect with her just as much as I do. I appreciate them giving me this time with her alone. “Thank you.”

“I get it, man,” Alek says, mindlessly tracing his fingers up and down the curve of her hip. “You needed this, and I know she did, too.”

His hand stills when he sees the marks my leather belt left on her ass. His eyes dart to mine as a deep rumbling growl emits from his throat. “Royal.”

“Relax, man. She enjoyed it.”

“That’s not the point. You have to take care of it after,” he grumbles, getting off the bed and storming from the room.

---