Page 14 of Fire Bound

“You know, oddly enough that’s the second time this week I’ve been told that.” My head shakes in astonishment. “If people keep saying that, I’m afraid I’ll develop a complex—” The smart-ass remark is never finished, because with an angry roar, he charges at me with the pipe raised above his head.

He’s faster now than he ever could have been when he was alive. I shift out of the way just before the metal pipe comes down. He slams it against the ground so hard, the stone crumbles. It would be easy to reach out and infuse his blood with a healthy dose of hellfire, but the built-up frustration in my bones craves the fight. I want to beat something until I’m no longer able to think of Remington and all the shit that’s happened between us. I want to slam this guy’s face in with my fist until I’m too tired to crave her like I do.

The pipe comes swinging at my head once more, but this time, I catch it as I twist my body so I can slam my elbow into his face. Magically healed bones make the same satisfying crunching sound when they break. His nose is shattered and with a pained howl, he grabs his face with his free hand.

His dead eyes are full of anger when he charges at me again. Using the momentum he created, I grab hold of his dusty suit jacket and hurl him into the wall behind me. He bounces off the wall and chaotically swings the pipe at me. I don’t move fast enough this time and the metal connects with my temple.

Pain sears through my skull, disorienting me briefly. My fingers wipe at the trickle of warm liquid running down the side of my face. Pulling my hand back, I find it coated in blood. My beast growls lowly, pissed I let myself get hurt.

Snarling, I catch the pipe as he swings it again. This time, I yank the damn thing from his hands. He charges at me again trying to get it back, but I kick my booted foot into his chest, sending him backward.

Grinning like a madman, I twirl the pipe in my hand like a batter stepping up to home plate as I stalk forward.

His hands fly up to cover his face, but it doesn’t help him. Swinging hard, the pipe slams into his jaw, his gross rotted teeth fly from his mouth and scatter on the ground. He falls to his knees, his arm catching him before he falls forward. Bending down, I grasp his chin and force him to look at me. “If that fucker decides to bring you back a second time, tell him I’m coming for him. Tell him I’m going to burn it all to the fucking ground.”

Like a kid at a birthday party, I make his body my pinata. I slam the pipe unforgivingly into his body over and over again. Blood sprays all over me, coating my exposed hands and face. When it gets in my mouth, I spit it back down on him. In my head, I imagine it’s Sterling laying on the ground before me. I don’t stop until the body is unrecognizable—nothing but a bloody lump on the ground.

Good luck fixing that mess, Kaius.

Breathing hard, I back away from my masterpiece. As the adrenaline fades, the pounding in my head becomes more evident. Cursing, I let the metal pipe fall to the ground so I can prod at the wound on my head. Head wounds always bleed like a motherfucker, but now that I’ve stopped moving, I’m pretty sure I have a concussion. I’ll be fine once it heals, but right now, I’m afraid I might pass out.

Staggering back on my feet, I try to focus my disoriented vision, but it won’t work. I need to get the hell out of here before I lose consciousness. The last thing I want to do is pass out somewhere I’m vulnerable.

Harnessing the last bit of my energy, I summon my hellfire and think of Montana.Pru’s… I need to make it back to Pru’s house.I picture the lake house and then her living room. Ryker will be pissed that I showed up this late, but Pruitt won’t mind. At the last minute as I dissolve into smoke, the image ofherfills my mind as does her hotel room. Before I can stop it, I’m careening—faster than light—through the planes of this world.

When I arrive at my destination, I make a less than graceful landing and stumble forward onto my knees on the carpet.

“What the hell!” the voice screeches. “Jax!”

I pass out knowing I’ve made a grave mistake. I was trying to get somewhere safe but ended up with the one person who might actually kill me.

My eyes are the same color they’ve always been, but something in them is missing. The light or shimmer of happiness is gone. Along with whatever innocence I once had. They look tired.I am tired. I’m tired of watching the lives of my loved ones threatened and I’m tired of fighting.We grow up knowing about monsters, but we never truly think we’ll have to face them head-on. They’re just a distant thought in the back of your head. It’s a jarring new reality when you learn the monster is out there, cravingyourblood.

The things I’ve seen and the things I’ve done in the past two years have wiped away the remaining pieces of my innocence. I was going to nursing school to learn how to save lives, not take them. The blood on my hands is because of Sterling. I’ve been kidnapped and used as a bargaining chip because of Sterling. I’ve watched people I care about die because of Sterling.All because of Sterling.

With a frustrated sigh, I turn away from the mirror. The person staring back was unrecognizable anyway. With the white hotel towel secured around my chest, I leave the bathroom. Elsie said the club’s packed tonight and that’s exactly what I need. The sound and the chaotic energy will drown out the unwanted thoughts in my head.

Going back home yesterday did exactly what I feared it would. It made all the memories and emotions I tried to suppress bubble to the surface. Today I’m feeling everything. For the past month, I’ve been off tending to my emotional wounds. They were still tender and painful, but the bleeding had finally stopped. The two hours I spent back there tore open the sutures I’d placed and now I’m bleeding out.

Tonight, I’m going to start all over. Stitch by stitch, I’ll mend the wounds again. I’ll numb the pain and bury the feelings.

Running my fingers through my wet hair, I work out the knots as I rummage through my closet for something to wear. I don’t have a lot of options since I left with only one bag of clothes, but I make do. Snagging the black dress off the hanger I turn to toss it on the unmade king-size bed behind me just as a dark figure appears out of thin air.

Jumping a foot in the air, I cover my mouth with my hand to stop the startled yelp from escaping. I can lock as many doors as I want, but that won’t keep this demon out. The alarm I feel is quickly taken over by anger. “What the hell!” I yell at him. “Jax!”

How dare he come here? What is he thinking? I couldn’t have been clearer when I told—the thoughts die when he stumbles forward, falling onto his knees and then the putrid scent of death and smoke hits me.

Confused, I watch as he crashes to the ground on his stomach. I stay where I am, head cocking to the side while I wait to see if he’ll move. Jax is arguably the strongest among us, it takes a lot to really hurt him.

The first time I met him, he’d been shot in the stomach by Nicolai and his biggest complaint was the bullet ruined his favorite shirt. Meanwhile, I’d been frantically trying to stop the blood spilling from his gut. He heals faster than the rest of us, so why isn’t he moving?

Warily, I shuffle forward and nudge his still form with my bare foot, but it doesn’t rouse him.

I kept telling myself I want to see him bloodied and broken, but now as I stare down at him bleeding all over the carpet, my wolf is losing it. We’ve never disagreed more over something than when it comes to Jax. I want nothing to do with him while she misses him.Traitorous bitch.She claws and scratches at me, begging for me to help him.

Giving in this once, I hold my towel with one hand and kneel next to Jax. Gripping his shoulder, I shake him a couple of times, but he doesn’t move. His head is turned away from me, but the blood that blossoms on the light gray carpet below his skull hints at a pretty nasty head wound.

Begrudgingly and in a manner I wouldn’t classify as ‘gentle’, I flip him over. Jax groans low in his throat, but his violet eyes don’t open. His head just flops to the side. Gripping his chin, I turn his face so I can see what I’m dealing with.

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