Page 4 of Of Heathens & Havoc

When is it enough to wash away the blood on my hands?

A dark smile ghosts across my face, and I skim my thumb across the scars on my palm.

I’m here for her.

She’s the reason I came back to Faulkner, with all its danger and sorrow, the moment I turned eighteen and my aunt couldn’t stop me. If this priest only knew how badly I miss her, he’d take pity on me. Or maybe he wouldn’t tell me to forgive myself at all, because he’d know that’s impossible.

But I can’t force him to punish me for what I did and didn’t do, so I simply agree. I can’t make him take away the wickedness of my soul. All I can do is repent, work toward absolution, and pray that Eternity isn’t in heaven cursing my name like the three boys I sent to juvie.

two

The Angel

“Who’s gonna poke the beast and see if it’s got ‘roid rage?” Heath asks, grabbing a towel from the rack and smacking Saint’s ass with it. He grins and nods toward the freshman quarterback who just showed us what’s up on the field. We’re not sure what’s upoffthe field, and that’s the variable we need solved.

“Let the dude shower,” Saint says, shaking his head and flipping his towel around the back of his neck.

Stepping back from my locker, I glance over at the guy, a six-and-a-half-foot wall of muscle watching us dress. He should be playing at University of Arkansas at the very least. He could have gotten a full ride, not that he needs it. His family is loaded. No one knows why he’s here, at shitty little Thorncrown U. That raises my suspicions.

“The guy’s trouble,” I say, shrugging into a t-shirt. “His whole family is. His dad comes into the club, messes with the girls.”

“He must be here for a reason,” Saint agrees, winding his wet hair up and securing it in a bun at his nape.

We finish dressing, and as soon as the QB shuts off the water and reaches for a towel, we approach. He watches us, his eyes hooded as he casually towels off his dick. Dude showered facing the room like a creep, putting his whole massive body on display, making sure we all know he’s hung like a fucking stallion.

I’m already rethinking the steroid explanation for his size.

“Which one of you is here to weep like a pussy because I took your spot on the field?” he rumbles in a deep, Yankee accent, taking his sweet time drying his balls.

“You earned your spot,” Saint says, tipping his chin at the guy. “It’d be nice to win a few games for once. We’re not mad about it.”

“If you’re going to try any prison shit, just know I’m an expert at castration,” the quarterback growls, looking us over.

“We’re not interested in your dick, impressive as it may be,” Heath says, a glint of the heathen in his eye as he cracks his knuckles and sizes up our opponent. “We got other things on our minds.”

I nod at the guy’s chest, where a different dark-haired female stares back from each of his dinner-plate sized pecs. “We’re more interested in your ink.”

“What about it?” he asks, leveling me with a look while toweling off his tree-trunk thighs.

“My cousins do that?”

“Who else?”

“Got any on your back?”

He straightens and stares down at me with soulless eyes while he tucks his towel around his narrow hips. “Fucking try to make me turn around.”

I’m about to lose my cool with this prick. We already told the egomaniac we weren’t interested in any fraternity pranks. I puff up, stepping into his space. “You know who you’re fucking with?”

He tips his head back and surveys me with cool indifference. “Should I?”

“Hell, yeah, you should,” Heath crows, dancing on his toes and rolling his neck like he’s itching for the fight. “You’re about to find out what happens when you fail to show the proper respect to the brotherhood. Silly freshman.”

The freshman scoffs quietly, his eyes on me. “Yeah, I fucking know who you are. You think I live in a goddamn castle in the sky?”

I think he lives in a mansion on the hill and bleeds gold, which is the equivalent of the shit he said. Considering how he looks, he’s probably used to getting more pussy than he can empty his balls into and having a different sycophant spotting him on the weights every day while he gets jacked too. I’m about to knock his punk ass out just to show him that this ain’t high school anymore. He’s not the big shot around here. Things are different in college, even at a tiny school like Thorncrown.

Not to mention he’s on my turf now, andhe’s only a freshman.

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