Page 1 of Penance

Prologue

Max

Ithink today is the worst one of my life.

The woman who provided for me, who cleaned my cuts and scrapes, baked me rainbow cookies when I was down. The one woman I could always rely on, who would always be there to give me warm smiles or yell at me when I deserved it. Protected me, taught me, saved me. Gave me the very best of everything she could.

My grandma is being buried today and I fucking hate it.

I’m hunched over on the end of the bed, forearms resting atop my spread knees. I glance up at my reflection in the floor length mirror before me. My jet-black hair sticking up in all directions, turquoise eyes bloodshot from too much weed and whiskey. My shirt wrinkled and untucked, hickeys from blurry, unknown faces covering my neck -from everyone but the one girl I actually want to touch me.

I’m a fucking mess.

The mid-morning sky is dark. Rain hammering down in sheets, the wind howling wildly, battering the bare tree branches so they scrape and squeak against the single pane glass windows. It’s fucking freezing in here. The wood around the windows rotten and split, allowing the arctic wind to whistle through the gaps. The house is falling apart, yet it’s the only place I’ve ever really felt at home. Now the council want it back to move some other poor fucker in, that, or it’ll be condemned like a bunch of other council owned properties on this street.

My grandma’s things are all boxed up; her entire life dismantled, wrapped up in newspaper and tossed into cardboard. My mother ransacked the place first, obviously, the cold-hearted bitch. God, I fucking hate her. Getting her slimy mitts on anything that was worth more than a tenner, fucking scumbag. Once she’d pinched everything she could pawn, Kyla-Rose helped me pack up the trinkets and photographs, all the things that actually meant anything anyway. My grandma never had expensive things, just a few little bits and bobs that were precious to her.

“Maxi?”

Her gentle, delicate voice wraps around me like silk, softly drawing me back into the room.

“Yeah?” I rasp, my throat dry from all the smoking and heavy drinking I’ve done the last few days.

Her tall, skinny frame stands awkwardly in the doorway, her long white hair tucked behind both ears. A knee-length black dress with long sleeves tight on her body. Her milky white legs bare, feet in her usual scuffed, black Doc Martens. She knots her bony fingers together before her, subconsciously chipping away at her black nail polish as she stares at her feet.

Kyla-Rose is the light in my life, an angel in a pit full of black hearted demons. She’s strong, determined and so perfect; everything about her is it for me. She’s been it for me since I was five years old.

“Can I-” she swallows nervously, shifting her feet on the worn beige carpet. “Can I help you with anything?” she almost whispers.

Her beautiful eyes finally drawing up to meet mine making my heart stutter to a stop in my chest.

God, she’s fucking spectacular.

Heartbroken grey-green orbs stare back at me, a little too big for her heart shaped face. Doe-eyed, innocent, striking. She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on the already torn skin. She has a habit of doing that, I’m constantly plucking it free from between her teeth. She’s been anxious more lately, quiet, subdued. I wondered if her dad had mentioned anything to her about what I’d done but I think she would have brought it up by now if she did. She’s fiery below that timid surface. It’s one of the things I love most about her.

“Come here,” I order.

Without hesitation she steps fully into my room, stopping just before me, her eyes never leaving mine, I reach my hand out to her. She doesn’t think about it. Just drops her cold hand in mine, her cool fingers sliding up the inside of my wrist.

“It’s okay to be sad, Lala,” I tell her, looking up at her, her bottom lip trembles, unshed tears glistening in her eyes.

“I’m supposed to say that to you,” she whisper-laughs, swallowing down her emotion, making me love her even more for it.

“It’s okay, we can both be sad together, Princess,” I slide my thumb under her eye, catching the tears from her bottom lashes. “We both lost her,” I offer her a tight smile, it’s the best I’ve got right now, everything’s gone to shit.

“I’m so sorry, Max,” she blinks rapidly, her eyes rolling up to the ceiling, the long column of her ivory throat stretching deliciously as she tilts her head back.

Such an innocent, vulnerable thing to do, little does she know it makes the rabid wolf inside me want to plunge his fangs into her. Mark her up, bleed the wound, make it scar. A little piece of me on her for eternity. I hold down the chesty growl that wants to release. I’m rapidly losing control of hiding my feelings for her.

Don’t go there, Maddox.

Taking in a deep shuddery breath, she looks back down at me, a soft smile on her chewed lips. She reaches up, running the fingers of her free hand through my unruly mop of hair. I let my eyes slip closed as her fingers dance lightly over my scalp, it could send me off to sleep, she’s so gentle. I inhale deeply allowing her creamy, citrus scent to soothe me.

“Stand up,” she coaxes quietly, and I do, as if I could ever deny her anything.

She slips her hand from mine, her fingers ghosting over my chest, goosebumps erupt over my skin at the barely there contact. Her fingers begin unbuttoning my shirt, my eyes snap open, my fist latching around her thin wrist.

“What are you doing?” I ask harshly, shaking her in my grip, her brow crinkling as she stares up at me.

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