Page 41 of A Hurt So Good

“What do you mean?”

“I took it. I shredded every last fucking check he sent that bitch.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Denz’s mom is a drunk, and mine's a junkie. Back then, I thought I was doing her a favor, but it turns out I was only hurting myself. When she couldn’t get the money for drugs, she’d beat the shit out of me. The scars, the round ones?” he says, nodding toward his arm. I’ve seen them and felt them, but I’ve never commented on them. “She would put her cigarettes out on me.”

“Jesus, War.”

“Don’t give me the pity shit either, Arya. I don’t want it. I never gave a shit what she did to me.”

“But you sneak back in now?”

“I don’t want her to see me. There’s a part of me that just wants to see if she’s still alive I guess.” I don’t know what to say to that.

“I …”

“I want her dead, Arya.” I gasp at his words. That’s not something I thought I would hear come from his mouth. War stops walking and turns to face me.

“Do you know how many times I sat over here with my gun in my hand? How many times I’ve thought about shoving a knife through her chest?” Jesus, this man is darker than I thought. I don’t say anything because, frankly, what the hell do you say to that? I just stand here, stunned by what he’s just told me, and stare at him. When War has had enough, he grabs my hand and tugs me along back the way we came.

“Are these abandoned?” I ask, changing the subject and nodding toward the houses lining the street.

“Yeah, most of them are. This whole fucking neighborhood should be condemned. But that house right there,” he says, nodding toward the one on the corner. “I’ve killed in there. Hell, the body might still be in there.” He’s so fucking casual about saying it that I don’t know how to respond. And when he tugs me toward the decaying house, I freak out a little.

“What are you doing?”

“We’re going in,” he says.

“No, the fuck I’m not.”

“Are you scared, little bird?” he asks, looking me in the eye. Am I scared? Fuck, yes, I am. He admitted to killing someone in this house and that the body may still be inside, and now he wants to take me in there, too. Fuck that shit. I jerk my arm, trying to get away from him, but he doesn’t let go. In fact, he keeps pulling, forcing my feet to move. I think about screaming, but what fucking good would that do me in this neighborhood?

“War. Please don’t.”

“Here’s the thing, little bird. We want you. And we plan on keeping you, right? But in order for you to understand me, you need to understand the dark parts of me.” My heart is hammering in my chest as he drags me unwillingly into the house. As soon as we step inside, I bend over and heave. The smell is horrible, unlike anything I’ve ever smelled before, yet War keeps his grip on me, so I can’t run.

“I can’t breathe,” I tell him as I cover my face with my free hand.

“That, little bird, is the smell of death. Once you smell it, you’ll never forget it.”

“War, please.”

“You see, the asshole who used to lie right there,” he says, pointing to what looks like rotten meat on the floor. “He was raping a girl. She was so scared when we walked in and found it happening.” Oh my God. He isn’t lying. He killed that man. I keep my hand planted firmly over my nose and mouth, trying not to breathe in the scent, but it isn’t working. I gag as War laughs.

“Don’t have the stomach for it?” he asks, looking down at me. I shake my head rapidly. “You’ll learn, Arya.”

“I don’t want to learn. I want to get out of here,” I mouth behind my hand. A normal person would try to run, but I can’t do that because he has a bruising grip on my wrist. Nevertheless, I tug at it and try.

“He wasn’t my first kill,” he adds, looking back at the rotten body on the floor. “No. He won’t be my last either.” Now, I really start to struggle. I pull my hand from my face and try to pry his fingers off me. I jerk and pull to no avail as War just laughs. In seconds, he lifts me and slams me against the wall. My head thumps off it as I narrow my eyes at him.

“The thing is, if you ever try to leave us, little bird, you might end up like him,” he says, nodding toward the spot on the floor. I don’t know if that’s fear I feel at his threat or what it is, but I want no part of it.

“You’re insane,” I hiss at him.

“I might be. I might not. Who the hell are you to say?” he asks me, lowering his lips too close to me. I swallow the urge to vomit from the smell when he moves his head slightly and leans closer to my neck. Instead of letting him kiss me like I think he plans on doing, I turn my head and sink my teeth into his neck until I taste blood. War roars, but he lets go of me. Immediately, I start for the door, but he grins and blocks it. I can see the blood dripping down his neck as I plan my next move.

I turn and run toward the stairs. I’m blonde; it’s our signature move, right? I start up the steps and stumble, crashing to my knees. I can hear War right behind me as I start climbing on my hands and knees. I don’t make it far when I feel his hands on me. He jerks me down, my chest smashing into the stairs and knocking the air from my lungs. I cough and try to suck oxygen back in as he tears my shorts off my body. I start to scream, and he laughs darkly.

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