Page 50 of Be My Sinner

Right now, however, I’m feeling it right along with him, and I can honestly say I have never been so scared in my life. Not even when the Brotherhood ripped me from the only home and family I had ever known, and thrust me hundreds of miles away into seclusion with a man I didn’t know. With a future I wasn’t confident I would have, never mind whether I would see another birthday.

“Sammy, fucking hurry,” I scream back in their direction over my shoulder, refusing to stop and waste precious time.Please let him still be alive.

I break through the clearing of thick leaves as sunshine streams above me and touches the world around me, bringing with it an ethereal glow. Its golden rays hit various leaves, making them seem otherworldly. It’s so beautiful here. Peaceful. The place where I have shed blood. Where I have changed not only my fate but theirs, with a single pull of my finger on a trigger.Murderer.

My eyes meet the form of the large creature on the ground, his black pants seeming to meld into the deep dirt and giving the appearance he is part of the landscape around us. A dark forest nymph waiting to lure humans into his fae trap. His golden and tattooed skin shines in the warm rays, making him appear to be illuminated from within. The solid muscles that cover his form are each on display and mouth-watering. He doesn’t seem human, just an apparition outside of this world that humans could never dare create.Dark perfection.

The only thing that tarnishes the image is the red blood that coats his body, seeping into the waistband of his pants, and disappearing into the dark ground around him. My eyes are immediately drawn to the shirt I cut off him, and tried to strap around his wound to stem the bleeding, a dark slash across all that divine skin. I can’t move another step, my body frozen to the spot and my legs rooted to the ground.Murderer.

My eyes desperately watch for the rise and fall of his chest.Please. Please be breathing.The words chant inside of me over and over again, a prayer to anyone listening, even though a murderer like me doesn’t deserve any miracles.Is he breathing?I feel the desperation starting to rise within me, about to give way to the hysteria that wants to roll me over and consume me. A hungry beast that desperately wants to devour what is left of my sanity.

“Be ye angry, and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath.”The words roll through my mind, forcing me to acknowledge their truth. My wrath and anger have caused this. My need to avenge myself and my family on the world around me. The bloodlust that consumes me and encourages me to destroy everything in my path.

“What the fuck have you done?” Zeke breaks through the trees behind me in a blur of speed I wouldn’t think capable of someone carrying all the various injuries I can see across his body. Fuck, he’s bleeding too.What the hell have we done?His body falls down immediately next to Abe’s as he checks for his pulse and breath.

Two large arms circle me from behind, pulling me into the warmth of a strong body. The rich scent of mint and sage brings me a small portion of comfort, and allows me to take the first deep breath since I pulled that trigger. My heart throbs painfully inside my chest, wanting to claw its way out and crawl inside of Sammy. Knowing that he will always protect it, even from the very pain I have self-inflicted.

“Save him, Sammy. Please.” The words leave my lips in nothing more than a desperate breath. I can’t meet his eyes as he releases me, and turns me towards him. His finger touches the bottom of my chin, forcing my face and eyes to meet his midnight blue ones. Whatever he sees in my eyes, in the expression on my face, has him moving away from me.

“Fuck, he’s barely breathing! There is so much blood! Dinah, what the fuck have you done?” Zeke shouts, his voice breaking on the words, the panic evident in their sound.

My knees give out beneath me, and I fall heavily to the forest floor. My heart feels like it is shattering again, but this time, instead of small jagged pieces that I can never put back together, it feels like it is turning into fine-grained sand. Sand that invades every part of my chest and lungs, and makes me choke on my own breath. I can’t fucking breathe. My hands rise to my throat as I claw at it, desperate to draw breath.

“Put pressure on that wound, fucker. We need to stop the bleeding,” Sammy shouts, his words loud but also muffled in the world around me that is trying to drown me in so much sand. My body feels so heavy as I fall forward, unable to even keep myself upright.

“Nightstar, fuck! Baby, please, you need to help me right now. You need to breathe. Stay with me. Please, Nightstar.” Sammy pulls me up by my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin with force as he propels me back to my knees, and I stare up at him. My chest feels so tight; my mouth opens and closes, but air refuses to work its way inside my lungs.

“Breathe, baby. I need you to help me keep him alive. You want him alive, don’t you?”

His words begin to penetrate the fog that was trying its best to coat me, to suffocate me in my misdeeds. My head nods, even though I don’t tell it to. My hands cling to his forearms, my nails sinking into his skin as I try to take a deep breath.

“Good, baby, that’s it, breathe.” Sammy pulls me closer and mimics the breaths that he wants me to take, and my body obeys his command and follows his into a deep breath.

“We don’t have fucking time for this shit! Abe’s bleeding to death here!” Zeke’s frantic words fill the space around us, and the tightness rushes back into my chest, but I force the air inside my lungs this time. Refusing to let it cart me away into a world where I am at its mercy.

“I don’t give a fuck if he dies. You both can rot in fucking hell.” Sammy pulls away from me and stares at me. “Do you really want me to save him, Nightstar? It would be easier if we let him bleed out, and I put a bullet in the other fucker’s head.”

I pause for a millisecond. What do I want? I shot him. I wanted to kill him, but then the guilt took me over. I picture Gabriel. What would he want? “Please. Please save Abe.” The moment the words leave my lips, he’s pulling away from me; the feeling of loss is immediate and brings a chill to my body. I want to beg him to keep his arms wrapped around me, yet I need him to save the man on the forest floor dying because of my irrational actions.

“Come here, Dinah. You’re going to have to apply pressure on the wound as we move him back to the house. I need my kit; I can’t save him here.”

I stumble forward, my body wracking with shivers as I crawl across the forest floor towards Abe. Once I reach him, Zeke moves back and allows me to take his place as I brace my hands hard against Abe’s cooling skin. The feeling of wet blood soaks between my fingers, and I watch as they are immediately painted red.Red.So much blood that it squishes between my fingers and instantly coats my hands past my wrists. My stomach lurches at the blood covering me, a new response to something I love.

“You have to lift him at the same time as I do. The house is to the left, just over a hundred feet. We have to move him quickly. He’s losing a lot of blood. Let his legs trail if you have to; just keep his body up. Fuck, I’ll be surprised if he’s not dead by the time we get him through the doorway,” Sammy growls. “One, two, fuck, now. Lift, asshole, lift.”

They lift Abe’s heavy body from the ground, holding him by his shoulders and waist. The movement jars his body and makes more blood pour from the badly bandaged wound.

“Pressure, Dinah! Don’t worry about hurting him. Put all your strength into it!” Sammy grunts as he and Zeke continue to move Abe’s body in rapid footsteps while I press down as hard as I can.

A hundred feet become fifty, and the house approaches closer and closer. Its white exterior is a beacon of hope. Sweat pours down my body as my eyes remain locked on the wound in Abe’s abdomen, and my hands continue to be soaked by the blood that drips down his frame and leaves a trail across the forest floor. Sammy and Zeke are breathing heavily, struggling with Abe’s heavy mass. I feel Zeke faltering in his steps before he once again finds strength from deep within himself, and keeps pushing forward.

The house appears closer still, and before I know it, we are stumbling up the back porch steps, and Sammy is whamming his shoulder into the back door, forcing it to slam open without the use of his occupied hands. “In here. Let’s get him on the table.”

We maneuver a still unconscious Abe onto the rectangular wooden kitchen table, my hands pressing firmly on his abdomen. Zeke moves around, clearing everything around us as Sammy rushes out of the room with forceful steps. “Zeke, take over applying pressure. Dinah, check his fucking pulse!” He yells back at us as I hear his footsteps running through the house.

Zeke uses his shoulder to shove me back and away from Abe, before taking my place and applying pressure. I scramble forward, reaching out and placing my trembling fingers on Abe’s neck. His skin is chilled to the touch, and his face is becoming ashen. “Why, Dinah? Why try to kill us?”

I try to ignore his words and focus only on getting a read on Abe’s pulse. I can’t find it in his neck, and panic fills me. “I can’t find it. His pulse. I don’t think he’s breathing!” I scream as I tip his head back and try to feel for breath coming from his lips or nose. “He’s not breathing!”

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