Page 13 of Pope’s Purgatory
The dead won’t know, but the living sure in the hell will.
I suppose that’s why it’s my favorite thing to do.
After I shake and tuck myself back in, I lean over to swipe my finger through the blood that’s starting to coagulate where his head used to sit. I bring it to his forehead and glide it up and down, back to the middle, then side to side, creating my calling card.
My enemies always fucking know who is leaving the mess behind when they spot the bloody cross.
“Message delivered,” I say, taking the wipe from Malice and holding my hand out for the sanitizer. “Let’s ride, brothers.”
I don’t think for a second this is going to stop them from coming after the club or the girls, but it’ll let them know I’m finished playing their games.
Once I’m sure my girl is safe, I’m coming for them. I’ll be coming for all of them.
Birdie was the only thing keeping that last thread of my humanity in place. Once she’s gone, there will be nothing left to stop the reaper from breaking free. He’ll be searching for souls to devour, and I have a whole fucking club I’ll deliver to him.
I’m walking past thebathroom on my way out the door when the sound of retching yanks me to a stop.
My fists clench, hating the thought of her being sick. As much as I need to walk away to keep this distance between us, I open the door and lean against the frame.
Birdie is on her knees in front of the toilet, her arm around the rim as she vomits again.
I push off the door and grab a washcloth from the shelf, running it under warm water.
Worry eats at me. Birdie rarely gets sick. I can’t remember the last time it happened. If I didn’t know she had that IUD thing, I’d wonder if she was pregnant.
Just the thought sends pure fear through me. We can’t have a kid. Not now. Not in the middle of this shit with the Steel Slayers. It’ll put an even bigger target on her back and give me another weakness that can be exploited.
I squat beside her, bringing the cloth to her face and wiping away the sweat and vomit there. “What do you need?”
Birdie shoves my arm away from her face and shakily climbs to her feet. “Nothing from you unless you’re ready to talk.” When I don’t say anything, she sighs and walks to the shower stall. “I thought so. Just go, Pope. You’ve gotten good at running lately, so keep going. I’m just a little under the weather.”
The defeat in her tone smashes through my chest and wraps around my heart in vicious, barbed wisps. I can’t recall a time that my Birdie has let anything beat her.
There’s a war waging inside me between the man who is fucking obsessed with her and wants to make everything better and the man who is fucking obsessed with her and needs to do everything he can to protect her.
“If you need me, call,” I say, tossing the washcloth into the dirty clothes hamper.
She snorts, pulling her clothes off and stepping into the shower without replying.
Why would she? That snort pretty much told me to kiss her ass.
Closing my eyes against the pain trying to invade my barely beating heart, I shove my fingers into my hair and pull as hard as I can. Sharp needles pierce my skull, focusing me. My nostrils flutter as I pull air in and out of my lungs sharply.
Once I’m feeling absolutely nothing again, I stride out of the door, shutting it softly behind me. I don’t even get to step away before the broken sound of a sob reaches me through the thick wood. It sends me stumbling into the wall, and I drop to my ass. I bring my knees up and rest my arms on them, dropping my head back against the wall. Water fills my eyes as I listen to my little Birdie release her pain alone.
Droplets slither down my cheeks, dripping into my beard.
Oh, baby. It’s only going to get worse before it gets better.
Once the Steel Slayers are taken care of, I’ll fix this. I’ll hand my soul over to her since she owns the fucking thing anyway. I’ll drop to my goddamn knees before her and plead my case.
Until then, I have to forge ahead on the path I’ve chosen.
Her crying fades gradually and the water shuts off. I lumber to my feet and hurry out the door before she catches me.
I’m climbing on my bike when the heat of her stare prickles against my skin. I lift my eyes to our bedroom window and find Birdie staring down at me with a million questions in her broken eyes. Questions I can’t answer without her fighting me on the plan.
She’ll never understand. I’m going to burn the entire fucking world for her, but I need her breathing while I do it. Only then will I bring her back to me.
