Page 82 of Fire

Her comment along with the passion behind it, so unexpected, surprised a bark of laughter from him. “Only you could make me laugh at a time like this. But, in a sense, yes.” His lips slowly lost their smile. “Only I took it one step further.”

Her eyes grew wide. “You killed them.” At his hesitant nod, she whispered, “How?” As if she truly wanted to know. As if she wanted to share in his revenge.

But he wouldn’t tell her the details. How he’d known as soon as he healed from his injury, he’d be expected to participate in the men’s perversions.

How he’d faked his recovery—behaving weaker than he really was—waiting for the monthly cleansing ritual when all the women would be segregated, and the men would get drunk off their asses.

How he’d scoured the woods, gathering enough poison hemlock to debilitate the men.

How he’d taken his favorite hunting knife and cut his father’s throat—looking him right in the eyes as his father stared back, paralyzed and unable to stop him—concerned the whole time, not because of the atrocity he was committing and the damage he was doing to his soul but because he’d been worried someone would be lucid enough to stop him.

How after his father was dead, he’d relished in all the red he’d created.

How to cover his tracks, he’d set the place ablaze substituting one shade of red for another.

How he’d worried he’d gone a little insane that night and how, deep down, he worried he still was. Because if he had the chance to do it all again, he would, knowing evil like that shouldn’t be allowed to walk the Earth.

“I set the compound on fire. All the buildings were made of wood—large cabins. It didn’t take much—a little accelerant and a single match—and the whole place went up in flames, and the women and children were finally free to leave.”

There’d been only one vehicle and too many of them to fit, so they’d had to run for miles. Night had turned into day, and then night had fallen again before they’d been rescued. He’d carried Sissy the entire way—never giving up, never giving out—until his arms had grown numb and his feet bloody. It had been the least he’d owed her for failing to protect her.

“Authorities picked us up, and we were placed in a shelter until our lives could get sorted. Mom called her parents. They still had the same phone number even after all those years. They came and got us. They hadn’t even known about us. But it hadn’t stopped them from loving us instantly.” He still marveled at that. At their unconditional acceptance. Even after they’d learned what he had done.

He’d expected to be discovered for his crimes. For weeks he’d walked on eggshells, wondering when the authorities would come to take him away. But they never had. They’d either never suspected or just let it be, thinking justice had been served. He didn’t know—would never know—but over time he’d relaxed his guard and stopped looking over his shoulder.

“What happened to the others?”

Blake squeezed her hand tighter, admitting, “I don’t know. Things were so crazy at first. Sissy was a mess, my back was still infected, and mom… mom couldn’t cope with her new reality. She killed herself a few days after we got home.”

He wasn’t sure what Gwen saw when she looked at him right then, but she stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him, and squeezed him tight. “I’m sorry.”

His arms followed suit. He held on to her, dropping his head to rest his cheek on the top of hers, relishing in the feel of her arms around him and that he didn’t need to pull them away. He was being greedy, he knew that, but he didn’t want to let go. That Gwen was still there was a miracle he wasn’t going to poke too hard at.

“I think my greatest sin is that I don’t feel remorse,” he whispered his confession into her hair. “I’d do it all again if I had to. To save my sister. Save myself.”

He breathed in the clean scent of Gwen’s hair and closed his eyes, praying—for the first time in a long-ass time—that he’d get to keep her. “And if that makes me a monster, I’m okay with that.”

Chapter 21

Gwen’s heart ached for the man she held in her arms. For the horrors he’d lived through, the choices he’d had to make at such a young age to save himself and others he cared for.

“You’re not a monster.” She wasn’t sure what it said about her, but she was happy they were all dead. She held on a little tighter, her cheek pressed into his chest, his heartbeat pounding in her ear. “You killed the monsters. That makes you a hero.”

His cheek rubbed the top of her head in denial. “I’m no hero. Heroes don’t have blood on their hands.”

“True heroes do. The ones willing to sacrifice a piece of themselves to save the ones they love—they’re covered in it.” She stepped back out of his embrace to see him—let himseeher. Gripping his biceps, she stated, “What you did doesn’t make me love you any less, it makes me love you more, knowing you’re not afraid to stand up for what you know is right. That you’re brave enough to take action. That you’re courageous enough to fight.” She drew her face closer, lowering her voice. “That you even care enough to want to.”

Reaching up, she cupped the side of his face, rubbing his cheek with her thumb in the soothing caress he always used on her. “What you did doesn’t make you a monster. It shows me that you have aheart.”

Blake closed his eyes, turning into her hand, his lips finding her palm and kissing it. Then his eyes opened, locking with hers. “You love me?”

For the first time since she’d known him, Blake looked vulnerable. Not even when he was sharing the nightmare he’d endured had she seen such a look. Her heart raced as she made herself as vulnerable. “Yes, I love you. A whole hell of a lot.”

His hands moved from her waist, skimming up her torso to cradle her face. Her racing heart picked up speed as his lips touched hers, tenderly sipping at them as if she were precious.

“I never thought I’d do this again.” His lips brushed hers as he spoke, his breath warming her. “Never thought I’d hold you. Never thought I’d kiss you. Never thought I’d come deep inside you—ever again.”

His tongue swiped along the seam of her lips, asking for entrance, which she granted, eagerly parting them. But he didn’t greedily devour her mouth as she’d come to expect. Instead, he captured her bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth.

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