Page 81 of Tainted Serenity

“Why are you crying?” His voice is soft and caring, so unlike the possessive and toxic one he always has.

“I wanted to die,” I whisper as my voice breaks, and when I lock eyes with him, I notice the pain that he tries to conceal. Yet, I continue. “I wanted to die along with the house and all its inhabitants, and now I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m so fucking lost.”

My voice comes out in a hoarse scream made of raw pain and despair, the kind you cannot easily recover from. How did I get to this point?

Grey’s arms wrap around me in a secure yet gentle grip so as not to injure me further, and his embrace makes me feel alive and as if I am actually still here. Not in some weird state of nightmare bordering on dream.

“Find your way back, little doll. I will be here through it all,” he whispers to me, hugging me close to his muscular chest, which feels like the only solid thing now.

The roaring flames are eating up the manor behind us, sizzling and crackling with the proof that this place will finally disappear.

Dying screams, pained sounds, horror cries all come from the manor when the people inside realize they are stuck in the flames. I should feel guilty for leaving them all to die, but I simply cannot find myself to care.

I have always been selfish, and this only proves that further.

The grass feels strange beneath me where I sit, but I can’t find the energy to rise to my feet, needing the time to just be still. I glance numbly at the house, and it feels as though it’s been hours when it’s only been a matter of seconds.

In an instant, Daxton’s demeanor changes, seemingly more on edge than before, with a tense composure as his focus fixates on something in the distance. My heart leaps into my throat when I follow his gaze.

There’s a shadow emerging from the burning house, her features disheveled with her hair hanging in unkept drifts, and mascara-streaked tears tracing down her cheeks. She stumbles forward, coming closer to where we are, her legs nearly buckling underneath her as she struggles to keep her balance. She looks far from the well-kept person I have seen before, and a twisted sense of satisfaction washes over me.

She deserves that.

“You!” she points an accusatory finger toward Daxton, who clenches his fists as he stares at her. She comes all the closer with hostility. “What the fuck did you do?” she screams at him, launching at him in an attack.

With swift yet delicate movements, Daxton manages to twist Irene’s arm behind her back until she becomes a furious, whining mess. She collapses to the ground with ease, a piercing scream falling from her dry lips in a fit of rage that demands to be released. Daxton doesn’t relent; only tightens his grip on her with a furious glint in his eyes.

“You’ve ruined everything. The media will find out about this,” she shrieks until her voice turns hoarse.

I have never seen Daxton so collected, yet so enraged, and it sends a shiver of unease crawling down my spine with a deft and chilling touch. He stares at her, and I’m glad I’m not at the receiving end of that glare.

He lets out a nerve-crippling chuckle. “How? You won’t live long enough to tell the tale about it,” he calmly says, and her eyes bulge.

Before she has time to process the gravity of the situation, Daxton grabs a gleaming, sharp knife from his pocket, holding it against her throat.

“You don’t deserve to breathe. You don’t deserve to live. You deserve nothing,” he seethes through his teeth, pushing the blade against her throat until beautiful crimson drops slowly trickle out. “I saw the way you looked at me, urged me to partake in your delusional games. Guess what? I was never your fucking toy.”

And then he plunges the blade straight through Irene’s throat, watching her eyes wide as she splutters on her blood and gasps for air, her body violently convulsing. It feels like minutes pass before she finally stops breathing, and he wipes the blade clean with his shirt before putting it back in his pocket. Both Grey and I stare wild-eyed at him, shocked at the course of events, but I cannot help but feel a profound sense of relief that she is dead.

Precisely like the rest of them.

“We have to leave,” Daxton says in a calm tone, as if he didn’t just kill someone with a knife. But then I remember the fact that he killed his parents without remorse.

Grey gives his brother a nod without so much as looking into his eyes before he helps me up to a standing position. Dizziness takes over, and I support my weight on Grey, feeling a consistent sense of emptiness on the inside.

What the fuck am I supposed to do now?

My goal was to burn down the manor, destroying everything in it, including myself, because I never saw myself surviving that ordeal, and it would be much easier to just stop existing all together. What now? There’s no world out there for me. Not anymore. Not when I’m so fucking broken from every single thing.

I hardly notice when Grey picks me up in his arms and carries me toward the forest, the flames igniting the path forward. His hold sways slightly as he walks, but I say nothing. I only stare up at the crowns of the trees, wanting to become one with them and wishing Daxton didn’t save me.

“Not much farther now,” Daxton mutters, but I barely comprehend it.

It all hurts, both my body and my soul. My hands are scarred and stained with sins and murder, and yet I am on my way out of here. To a place I stopped belonging to years ago.

It doesn’t take long before we come to a large object standing at the side of the forest, hidden among the leaves and branches of the trees. I realize it’s a car, and it lights up when Daxton presses a button on a key.

In silence, both men settle into the car, Daxton in the front seat and Grey in the back seat with me. None of them speak with each other, as if they have no words to say, and the tension between them is even more palpable now.

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