Page 34 of Golden Atonement

Please call or text 988 and speak to someone.

You are loved.

You are wanted.

You are not alone.

Stumbling past the pews towards the dais, barefoot, wearing only my jeans, I took another long pull of the bottle of whiskey while I glared at the figure hanging from the wall, shaking my head.

“They treated you like shit. Used you and you still forgave them. Didn’t you?”

Bared for all to see, save the loincloth around his waist. His enemies nailed his hands and feet to the cross and put a crown of thorns on his head.

They laughed at him.

Ridiculed him.

When they had enough, they stabbed him with a spear and still the fucker forgave them.

He forgave everyone he ever met.

He preached about forgiveness and atonement.

That salvation was a kind gesture.

Not for someone like me.

I was damned to live an eternity in hell.

“Sinners don’t deserve forgiveness, asshole!” I shouted, throwing my bottle of whiskey as I stumbled forward, falling to my knees. Tears ran down my face, and I hung my head.

“I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

I stupidly thought the second I killed Baranov that everything would be alright and I could go to her and make amends. I knew Montana’s brother, DakotafuckingStone, had moved her from California to Oklahoma. That fucker wasn’t stupid. He knew if anything happened to my woman, he was a dead man. No amount of protection or training would save him from the Reaper if anything happened to my wife. Blood or not, his life depended on whether my wife lived or died.

Montana knew it.

Maxim knew it, and I sure as fuck knew DakotafuckingStone knew it.

The second we left the warehouse in New York City, I jumped on a bike and rode hell-for-leather to get to my wife. She needed to know the threat to her was gone. She was free and could go home. She could finally live her life like she wanted.

I should have known that Montana would keep her close. She was his bargaining chip. As long as he had her in his clutches, he would use her to save his own life. Fucker thought he was smart. Too bad for him, he sealed his fate.

My wife was no man’s bargaining chip.

It took me two days of riding damn near day and night, but when I finally laid eyes on her, I knew I was too late. Not only was she in the arms of that Casanova Rambo fucker again, but this time, I watched when he kissed what belonged to me, andthat’s when I realized, somehow, in my blood fueled rage to kill every fucker that hurt her, I’d lost her.

There was no one to blame but myself.

I did this. It was my fault.

Safe now, she could live her life free of her nightmares and move on. As much as I hated the thought of her with someone else, I knew there was nothing I could say to make it right. She would never trust me again. I broke that between us. Not Montana and not Maxim. Me. My actions and lies severed the unbreakable tie that bound us together, and I would have to learn to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life.

Too bad I didn’t plan on living much longer.

There was no Reaper without his Remi. I vowed long ago to never live a soulless life again. I did that once before. I had seen the light, lived in its grace for a few magical years. Nothing would ever compare.

I knew what I was about to do. I accepted this fate long ago. I already survived one hell, and I refused to live in another of my own making.

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