Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 44252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 221(@200wpm)___ 177(@250wpm)___ 148(@300wpm)
Chapter 35
Cas
Fuck this motherfucker. I’m sick of his shit. I understand that he’s trying for her, but fuck him. He should have begun his healing years ago.
My hand fidgets and I pull out a joint and light it.
Sunshine leans forward and clears her throat. “I’m not sure if pot is legal in France.”
I sneer at her. “Like I give a shit. Didn’t you hear? I’ve served hard time for killing a Catholic nun. You think a little French pig is going to frighten me?”
Sunshine appraises me. Her lips pull in a firm line, disappointment clear on her face. Well, she can get used to it. I’m not always gonna be her damn fuckin’ circus clown. She nods as if washing her hands of me and turns back to Declan. She looks like she’s hanging on his words. Guess the fucker has a good story.
Declan picks up his scotch and takes a long swig. “Well, it seems like Cas told you the brunt of it.”
“I haven’t told her shit. Why don’t you tell her why you’ve got permanent holes in your hands? Or how you’ve got so many self-inflicted scars it scared a tattoo artist and he refused to work on your skin.”
“That’s rich coming from a guy who stabs himself to deal with his shit.”
“Yes, but I don’t pretend my imaginary daddy told me to.”
“That’s enough,” Sunshine says sternly. “Religion isn’t the issue here. God provides peace, hope, tranquility and it can take you out of isolation. God isn’t the problem, abuse is. Declan isn’t just going to abandon everything he knows because you and Lorne mock him. What you’re doing isn’t any better than what his aunt did.”
I laugh bitterly. “You’re right. She used to whip his back, and now I do. We’re exactly the same. But, hey, all my father taught me was how to be violent and how to fuck. Seems you like that about me.”
Noelle’s head snaps back as if I’ve hit her.
I hate that she’s staring at me like that. I hate that I’ve wounded her somehow, but I don’t care. “Not a word I said was a lie. That’s all I’m good for.”
Before I can say another word, Noelle is on my lap. In my anger, I didn’t even see her move, but as she wraps her arms around my neck, I feel a sense of peace. It’s funny how one person can change your outlook with one simple touch. How being in their presence eases the bitterness. Noelle smiles, and all is right with the world.
Her fingers trail my flesh under my Nirvana T-shirt, brushing against my scars. “Why do you do it? Why do you cut?”
“It stops the voices in my head. Sometimes, it all gets too much. It’s either a knife in my skin, or a bullet to my brain.”
“Did you write all those words on your body?”
I grab her hand and lift my shirt. I guide her fingers along the words. The Property of Sunshine and the arrow below it. “The only ones I’ve ever carved are these.”
“Who did the others?”
“My father. Some were punishments. Some were for money from people who had perverse desires.”
“Why didn’t you cover them up? You covered most of your upper body with tattoos.” She gestures at my arms, hands, neck, and back. “Why did you leave such vile memories behind?”
I stare at her, her hand on my abdomen. “Because they’re part of who I am. We can’t run from our past. It’s futile. Covering them would be like lying about who my father was, and I’ve lied enough for him. I wear the scars as a symbol of my survival. As a sign that we can overcome the most heinous acts and still thrive.”
She glides her fingers from the words that give me joy to the ones that form my nightmares.
“Does anything help with the voice, other than cutting?”
I brush her hair back and glide my hand to her nape before crushing my mouth to hers. “You.”
Chapter 36
Noelle
I’ve always been attracted to the broken. Not because I have a desire to fix them, more a need to love them. So it’s fitting that I would be launched into the middle of three flawed, damaged, and battered men. Three men who have found a family with each other, even though they’ve never known one themselves. Their lives might be chaotic, dysfunctional, and violent, but their hearts, even while wrapped in a maze of thrones, are tender.
I rise from Cas’s lap and pace the room, relieved we’re the only ones in the restaurant. “I have a life here. I’m not willing to leave it.”
Lorne leans back in his chair. “We’ll move. I have a private jet. We can easily move back and forth between France and the U.S.”
“You can’t do anything without my consent.”
Cas raises his arms. “I think I’m free of that.” He points to Lorne and Declan. “It was these two who touched you that first night while you were passed out.”