Page 92 of Ashes

Once I was clean, I stood beneath the warm spray, my heart pounding as I cried silently, tears running down my cheeks. The emotions from the dream hit me all at once, but this time, my brothers were on my mind along with siren.

My mind raced from Stitches, hanging in his closest to siren silent as a tomb in her bed. The devastation on Church’s face. The pain flickering in Ashes’s eyes whenever they met mine. Everything was fucked-up because of me. I always ruined things. Always.

I couldn’t handle what Bells had done to me, so I took it out on my poor, sweet, innocent siren.

Fuck, I was a monster. A villain. A demon.

And she was a perfect angel I knew I didn’t deserve, but fuck me, because I wanted her. I wanted her so badly I was willing to come clean with the guys if it meant it brought her back to us.

Us.

Like she’d ever want me.

But it struck me hard in that moment. It didn’t matter if she never wanted me. I’d leave for her. I’d let the guys take her and find their happiness. Mine didn’t matter. I deserved punishment. And a fitting one would be for me to forever be without her and my brothers by my side. It was a fate that was all too kind after the shit I’d done.

“I’ll make it right,” I whispered into the spray. “I swear I will. And then I’ll take my punishment. I’ll kill myself if it’ll stop the pain I created for my family. For siren.”

And I would.

I couldn’t live with this secret. I couldn’t live knowing I’d hurt my family. Knowing that Stitches was suffering. That Sirena was. That we all fucking were because I was a piece of shit who couldn’t let go of my anger and hatred. Who couldn’t see the good there was. Or could be.

Everyone I loved left me.

Now, I knew why.

It was because I wasn’t worth staying for.

But this time. . . I’d fix everything.

Then I’d say my goodbyes.

Forever.

CHURCH

Trust the process.

That was what Asylum wanted us to do.

Fuck the process.

I ran faster through the woods, my knife in hand. It was best I was out there in the woods rather than on the main campus grounds because I needed to blow off some steam. All I could think about was gutting Sully like a fucking fish and doing worse to my father.

For as long as I could remember, my father had wanted me to do was join the family business. I’d been forced to carve and hack on people. Sometimes they’d still been alive. Sometimes they’d been dead. And then my mother. . .

I ground my teeth harder as I picked up my pace. A small rabbit darted ahead of me beneath a bundle of brush. Within moments, I was doing what I did best when I caught an animal.

It was better I played out here rather than where I really wanted to play.

My father had taught me—had demanded— that I learn how to tear a body apart perfectly. He’d created the monster I was. He was sick. Fucked-up. He needed to be in a cage somewhere. Or at the bottom of the lake. The man wasn’t fit to walk this earth.

But I was his son, and the apple didn’t fall far from the asylum. Or what-the-fuck-ever. I’d always been fucked-up in my head. Killing came easily to me. Plotting. Watching. Taking. Most of the time it didn’t faze me to do it, but lately, something was wrong in my head. I didn’t feel like myself. I felt. . .something different.

If I had to sit and think about it anymore, I’d go nuts.

Love did fucked-up shit to men.

At least that was what I was diagnosing myself with. A case of love.

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