Page 64 of Cold Hard Truth

Sage circles the couch, sitting a cushion away from me and taking a sip of his beer. But I can’t look at him as I try to hide the fact that I’m even more broken than the last time he saw me.

It’s easier if he simply hates me for leaving. Then he doesn’t have to realize the full extent of what they did. Of who it made me. Of who I am.

But as he refuses to take his eyes off me, I know there’s no escaping it now.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Sage takes another long drink.

He’s being understanding when I sense he wants to snap. His stare is a live wire, sparking with the rage he’s trying to bury.

“It’s fine. We can talk about it.” We probably should when I don’t know how else we can get past it.

Twisting my fingers around the bottom of my T-shirt, I avoid his gaze. My vision is swimming as I fight back tears, and my heart races so hard it hurts.

“They did that to your back?”

“Yes.” Tipping my head back, I close my eyes, and I swear I can still smell that room, the heavy odor of death starting to settle. “One of them said we were Kane’s little angels. They said the devil shouldn’t be allowed anything innocent. So they took our wings… metaphorically speaking.”

Reaching back, I graze my fingertips over the deeply scarred flesh on my back. Over the top of the first line they drew, and I can still feel the blade ripping the length of my skin. One side, and then the other. I can still smell the burning flesh as the red-hot knife sunk in.

Ellie was first. One of them held her on her stomach while the other lifted her shirt and cut. She screamed so loud I can still feel the vibrations between my temples.

When it was my turn, I thought I knew what to expect since I’d seen it. I was wrong.

I’ve never felt pain like that. So deep it makes you numb. And even if I knew I didn’t have actual wings on my back, and even if I don’t know if I believe in heaven, that moment stole the possibility from me.

Whatever they took was a lot more than flesh.

“It didn’t feel metaphorical.” I shiver, blinking my eyes open. “It felt real—whatever they were removing.”

“I didn’t know,” Sage says, gripping his beer tighter.

I reach out and take the bottle from his hand.

“You couldn’t have known, Sage.” I take a sip. “I left, remember?”

He nods. His focus is on my lips when I wipe my mouth.

“I was so focused on my dad when it all went down that someone else carried Ellie out of the house. I couldn’t look at her—”

His words are cut off when they catch in his throat.

“I know what I heard and what Kane said. But I didn’t want to think about what they actually did because I just kept hoping that somehow you were spared in all of it. Even if I knew that wasn’t possible. I was a fucking coward. I couldn’t face it.”

“It’s okay.” I couldn’t either for a long time.

I probably still haven’t.

“Then Kane buried her so fast, and that was it.”

“Where is she?”

The question snaps his gaze back into focus. “She’s on the property a few graves down from my father.”

“You were there when he buried her?”

Sage nods.

My throat tightens, even as I try to take another sip of his beer. My eyes burn so badly they might as well be on fire, but I don’t want to cry. I stopped crying years agoand have fought it ever since. Because once I started, I couldn’t stop.

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