Page 36 of Pray for the Damned

Some nights it’s the only way I can settle the demons inside me.

Waverly never looks as peaceful as she does as she sleeps, and there’s something about that peace that calls to the darkest parts of me.

Emmett brought her home a few hours ago and stayed with her until she insisted he had more important things to do than sit with her in her shitty apartment, and despite his best arguments, he left.

Idiot.

If it were me, I wouldn’t have stepped foot out of the front door.

But his need for her trust worked out in my best interest tonight.

I lower myself to the edge of the bed and cringe when the springs creak at my weight. I hold as still as I can manage, but when Waverly’s gentle snores continue without missing a beat, I allow the tension to bleed from my body.

This is a first.

I’ve never allowed myself to get this close to her. Usually, it’s enough just to be in her space, to be surrounded by all the things that make her, her. But not tonight. Not knowing she was hurt.

That boss at the diner has a reckoning coming for the way she’s treated my girl. She doesn’t realize just who she was fucking with when she made Waverly’s life miserable, but I’ll offer her some leniency for firing her.

I know that sounds fucked up, really, I do. But I fucking hated her working there. I lost count of the number of customers who thought it was okay to manhandle her, and every time I had to add someone else to my list of people to kill once I’m out from under my father’s thumb.

Whenever that will be.

I reach out and brush a wisp of hair from her cheek, allowing myself a light brush of her skin. She’s so fucking soft, and the contrast beneath my calloused hands is startling. But it only drags me deeper into her orbit.

It’s rare that Waverly’s body truly relaxes, even in sleep. She knows more about stress and anxiety than most people, and that often leaves her restless and unsettled. But the events of today must have been too much for her.

“You’re going to wreck us, baby girl,” I murmur so quietly I barely hear my own words.

Before I can do something I regret, like climbing into bed beside her and taking what I need from her body, I shove myself to my feet and move toward the open window I climbed through.

The fire escape shifts under my weight, and I pause to make sure the rickety metal isn’t going to give way on me. If I’m going to keep coming in this way, I might need to get this thing fixed. But that’s something I can worry about later. For right now, I need to talk to my brother.

As I expected, he’s parked just out of view of Waverly’s living room window that looks out on the street, and when he sees me round the corner from the alley that runs down the side of her apartment, I’m met with a familiar scowl. It’s like he forgets I’ve been on the receiving end of that look my whole life, and it doesn’t affect me anymore.

Without hesitating, I slip into the passenger seat of his sedan and look around.

It’s a sensible car, one with all the safety features and shit that responsible adults give a fuck about, but it’s too closed in, and I find myself missing my bike immediately. No way am I ever getting rid of my baby for one of these things.

“Did you just break into her apartment?” he growls.

“Like you haven’t done it before.” I send him a pointed look across the console.

He scowls at me but doesn’t deny it, which only makes me chuckle.

“You should stay away from her,” he says.

“So should you.”

“Not fucking likely.”

“Are priests allowed to swear?” I ask. “Like, isn’t profanity a sin or some shit?”

He runs a hand down his face and sighs. “Yes and no. God isn’t going to deny someone entry to Heaven based on cussing alone.”

“What about murder?” I ask, my brow quirked up in question and it earns me another glare. “Isn’t that against the commandments or whatever?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t know anything about the Bible, Kade. We both attended the same Sunday school.”

---