Page 56 of Tarnished Embers

Then the ripping of fabric fills the room, cool air drifting over my bare skin, and a shadow looms over me.

A grumble leaves my throat, but it soon turns into a scream of agony when fire races from the place between my thighs, my body jerking and moving and so beyond my control that I’m not sure whether or not this is a terrible nightmare. All the while my head pounds, my vision a blur as my mind shuts down.

All I know is that I am a being made of up indescribable pain, of an agony and anguish that goes soul-deep, and that it lasts for hours.

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“LOVELY - SLOWED & REVERB” BY DENIAL

OCT

Heaving, the alcohol that I’d tried to drown myself in comes back up and lands in the toilet pan with a splatter. The tinkling of the running shower and frantic scrubbing has me turning as I slump on the floor, my brother, Kit, rubbing his skin raw with a pumice stone. His brows are dipped low, his jaw tight, and the steam that wafts from the shower, the way his body is colored crimson, tells me he probably set the temperature to scalding.

I say nothing, just flush, strip off my boxers, and then join him. I hiss as the water touches me, knowing soon I’ll be as red as a tomato.

“I can’t get clean, Oct. Can’t wash the smell of them off me,” Kit says desperately, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes, the whites showing.

“I know, brother,” I reply with a sigh, my flesh itching with the bodily fluids that cover it, none of which are my own. We may have taken those fucking pills so we could put on a show, but not one of us came. We couldn’t, not without her, our stepsister. Our soulmate.

Taking the pumice from him, I rub it up and down my arm, relishing the burn as I take some of the epidermis away. He grabs the shower gel—the bottle that was full this morning is half empty now—and squirts some into his palm before slathering it all over his raw skin, not even flinching.

We spend a few minutes washing ourselves, which doesn’t do a fucking thing to make me feel clean. Instead, I feel tainted, dirty, and no amount of scrubbing will wash it off. I shut off the shower, Kit growling at me as I open the door.

“I wasn’t done.” His nostrils flare as anger heats his eyes.

“Yes, you were,” I tell him, stepping out and grabbing a towel. “You know it won’t help, and you’ll just bleed more than you already are.”

He looks down, seeing the blood dotting the surface of his arms, and inhales a sharp breath, as if he hadn’t noticed that he’d literally scrubbed himself raw.

“Fuck.” He lets out a defeated sigh before getting out of the shower and grabbing the towel I hand him. “We should check on Cas and Prince.”

I nod as I walk back into his room, seeing the pale light of dawn lighting up the sky. It feels wrong somehow, like it shouldn’t be a new day. Like the nightmare of the past several hours can’t be washed away with a sunrise either.

We throw on some sweatpants, then head to Prince’s room as it’s the closest. I don’t knock, just open the door and stride in. Goosebumps pepper my skin, the chill of the room and the open balcony door telling me he’s outside.

Sure enough, when we head out the door, we see him, his forearms resting on the metal railing, looking out at the sun as if it mortally offended him.

“Hey,” I greet quietly, and he swings his head to look at me, making my steps falter. The skin around his eyes is bunched, his stare pained as tears make his emerald eyes sparkle and shine in the dawn’s light. He looks fucking traumatised, like he doesn’t want to see another sunrise, and moisture springs to my eyes when I see the anguish in his gaze. “Fuck, Prince.”

I rush to him, pulling him in a fierce hug, and that seems to be his undoing as sobs soon rack his large body as he clutches at me, tugging me closer.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Oct,” he croaks, his face buried in my neck.

“It’s not your fault, you know that,” I assure him, my voice thick as I hold him so close that I can feel each shudder from his body. My soul aches at seeing him blaming himself for something that’s always been beyond his control. I would do anything to take the guilt he feels and throw it to the four winds, because I want him to look forward to the sunrise, each and every day.

“How can you believe that? I’ve let them fucking rape you since you were little more than children and—”

“No!” Kit comes storming over, grabbing hold of Prince and spinning him around. My twin clamps his hands on either side of Prince’s face, a fire in his stormy gaze that I’ve not seen before. “Your mother may be the biggest cunt that walks this earth, but that has nothing to do with you, Prince. You didn’t force us to do anything. We gladly fucked those women for years until we grew tired of old pussy and realized how much of a toll fucking for money takes on our soul, but none of that is on you.”

Prince tries to shake his head, and by the way Kit’s jaw clenches, Prince is about to argue.

“Ember didn’t blame you,” I say, pressing into his back, wrapping my arms around him from behind, and resting my chin on his shoulder. I need him to feel the truth of my words. He stills, barely breathing, so I forge on. “She knew it wasn’t your fault, and she loved you regardless of who your mom is, like we all do.”

He takes a huge, shuddering inhale, and I watch as Kit’s face crumples the moment Prince sags into him and cries. Tears fill my eyes and spill over, so I nestle my face into the side of Prince’s neck, and soon we’re all sobbing into each other, the anguish of years leaving him in a storm of sorrow.

After a few moments, we quiet, and I let go of Prince as he straightens up, sniffing and wiping his hand down his damp cheeks.

“I don’t know what I’d do without any of you,” he says in a rough tone, turning to face both of us. His eyes are bloodshot, his chest bare, and all his gorgeous ink is on display.

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