Page 152 of Wicked Sins

I blubber incoherently as I crawl after him, desperate to warn him, desperate to get him back.

That…or follow him straight into those sulfurous depths.

But as soon as my eyes adjust to the fireplace’s glow, I pick out his silhouette. He’s standing there with the poker in his hand, staring at the fire like it did him an injustice.

I crawl closer. He’s saying something, repeating the same words over and over again.

“…Put you out. I put you out. I put you out.”

The fire?

As I turn to look into those flames, he stabs the poker into the fire’s glowing belly.

I rear back when he drags out a glowing log and lets it roll onto the carpet.

Flames take a moment later, licking the carpet with yellow tongues.

“Won’t go out, then you might as well take this fucking place with you.”

Another log joins the first.

Another.

Another.

“Jo!”

My voice is weak, but he hears me. He turns and then seems to come back to the present when he catches sight of me.

I cry out in pain when he runs at me and scoops me into his arms.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” he murmurs into my hair as he takes me downstairs. “I won’t let anyone touch you, ever again.”

Chapter Sixty-Five

Candy

Red and blue lights struggle to compete against the yellow-orange glow of the flames. The world has become an abstract painting that changes every time I blink. I keep zoning out, half-hallucinating as I fight the effects of the drug that had dissolved in that water bottle. Thankfully, my dislocated shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore.

Unfortunately, there’s still that throbbing deep inside.

He’d been too late, my sweet, valiant Joah. Too late to stop Mr. Bale taking the only thing I still had left; my innocence.

“You okay, Miss?” The paramedic standing a few feet away turns to me, one eyebrow lifted quizzically.

“Yeah,” I breathe, cutting off my semi-hysterical laugh.

We’re on the other side of the street. A fire truck paints a red slash in front of me as the firemen try to put out the blaze.

I told them they didn’t have to bother. Wayne was already dead before the fire started.

No one listened. I guess they have to do their jobs.

“Where’s Joah?”

“Still busy with the police, I think.” The uniformed guy walks a little closer, and then ducks his head to stare into my eyes. “Can I clean you up now?”

He’s already reaching for something to one side.

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