by Tillie Cole
Rearing back slightly, I searched his glazed eyes and prayed to the Almighty that he was seeing me. That he could hear my words. I itched to run my fingers through his hair, like I had seen Mae do to Styx, but I held back.
“I have watched you, Flame. I have watched you as you have watched me. And I have seen you free the flames. I have counted with you from my window as you have administered the slashes to your flesh, releasing what you believe runs within you.” My legs began to shake as I lifted the knife, and lined up the blade over his arm. “I will not take your life, but I will help you release the flames. I will stay here with you, in this room, until you come back to me. Until my Flame breaks back through.”
I lowered the tip of the blade to a patch of unharmed skin on Flame’s forearm. Just before my throat closed from what I was about to do, I hushed out, “I will not take your life, Flame, for it is far too precious to lose.”
Bracing my hand, I pressed the sharp blade into Flame’s skin and dragged it along the flesh. As the laceration surfaced and the blood began to flow, it was a balm to Flame’s torment. “One,” I whispered aloud, unable to take my eyes off his face. Flame’s wide exhausted stare remained fixed upon mine. But they became leaden, leaden with relief.
I struck again. “Two,” I continued to count, “three, four, five.” Flame’s body began to relax, his straining arms and legs, under the heavy pull of the ties, stilled. I looked at his arm, now coated with a fresh sheen of blood, and forced myself to continue. Everything inside of me screamed at me to stop hurting him, but I knew I had to continue. I had to reach eleven.
Repositioning the blade to his upper arm, I commenced the cutting. “Six, seven, eight, nine.” Nausea built in my throat at having to slash him. I was unsure if I could keep going, when Flame’s arm twitched, and I heard him voice quietly, “Ten.”
Flame’s dark eyes were now alert, watching me. Tears tumbled down my face. Flame inhaled a labored breath, and rasped again, “Ten.”
Without moving my eyes from his, I sliced at his skin. Flame’s eyelids fluttered in relief as I said, “Ten.”
Repositioning the blade, Flame’s chest expanded on an expectant breath. Cutting deep, I choked out, “Eleven.”
As if a cool shower of water had extinguished the flames in his blood, Flame sagged back on the bed, his stuttered breathing becoming even.
Instantly dropping the knife to the floor, I stared down at my hand, now spattered with Flame's blood. I felt sick as I stared at the red liquid. Averting my gaze, it landed on Flame’s prone body. He looked exhausted, his hands and feet now unmoving under the tight ties. But it was his face that encouraged me to find a modicum of peace with what I had just done. His beautiful face, with its features smooth and relaxed. And his eyes. His half-lidded eyes silently thanking me. I had successfully battled the darkness that was consuming his soul.
For now.
Edging closer, I whispered, “Sleep, Flame. Rest. I shall be here when you wake.”
It did not take long for his eyes to close and for sleep to claim his exhausted mind. I fought back the sudden urge to press a kiss to his cheek.
Flame’s wide chest rose and fell in a steady motion. But as Flame had found a temporary peace, I found myself suddenly riddled with guilt.
What have I done? I thought, seeing the blood on my hands.
My feet carried me backwards, until I tripped over an object. The small horrendously untidy cabin suddenly registered in my mind. There was barely any furniture, save for this small bed and a single chair. No light. Nothing that made it a place of comfort. Flame’s things were everywhere; dust and cobwebs covered the walls. The floor was cluttered with clothes and unwashed dishes, also what looked like rags covered in blood. Except a small spot at the rear of the house. It looked like a trapdoor in the floor. But the wooden trapdoor was covered in scratches, knife marks, and what appeared to be dried blood. Then there was a bucket to the side.
It was all too much; way too much. Tears blinded my eyes, my chest constricted my lungs. I needed air. I needed to breathe in fresh air, only while he slept.
Finding the door, I silently pulled the chair from under the doorknob and slipped through. As soon as I hit the cold air, I sagged to the ground, and let the tears fall freely—right into my bloodied hands.
Chapter Ten
Maddie
“Maddie!” Mae’s frantic voice cut through my grief. I blinked my eyes to rid them of my tears. Mae dropped to crouch before me.
As my vision snapped back into clarity, I saw Mae reach out to clasp my hands. In surprise, she ripped them back. “God… Maddie,” she hurriedly whispered, blood draining from her face. “What has happened?”
Four large silhouettes suddenly blocked our light as they crowded over Mae to see me. “What the fuck?” a deep voice proclaimed. I fluttered my eyes to meet the questioner.
Viking was looking at me strangely. His face was still as sad as before I had entered the cabin, but now his blue eyes were transfixed.
My eyes lowered to take in my hands. I raised them up. They were shaking. They were shaking so badly. Mae’s hand rubbed over my bent knee, as she asked, “Maddie? What happened? We heard Flame screaming, then it all went quiet.”
Feeling the nerve-wracking might of five gazes, I sucked in a breath and quietly replied, “I cut him. He wanted me to kill him… but… but I could not. I have to save him, like he did me.”
“He asked you to kill him?” someone asked in guttural tone, devastation dripping from each word. I glanced up. AK had stepped forward. I nodded and he stepped back, his lips parting.
“What?” Ky exclaimed as he stared at his brother.
AK shook his head. “He talked to her. For two days we haven’t been able to get anything from him. Not a fucking thing but him screaming and going psycho on the bed.”
My heartbeat leapt into a sprint at their words. Mae’s attention shifted from AK right back to me. “Maddie. Did you hear that? You got through to him.”
I nodded, eyes wide. I felt Mae’s hand take mine, despite the blood. I repeated my words, “I had to release the flames.”
Mae’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
“You cut him?” Viking moved round Mae and crouched by her side. “You cut him with a blade,” he pointed at my hands, “that’s why you have blood on your hands?”
“Yes. I… I cut him.”
A stunned silence met my confession. My stomach knotted with guilt, but I continued. “I did not want to hurt him. But he was asking me to kill him. He said he could not take the flames anymore. That they were getting too hot. He was in pain, he was begging me with his eyes…” I trailed off as a sob spilled from my mouth.
“Shh…” Mae soothed as she moved to sit down on the ground beside me. Her arm came around my shoulders and I fell into her warm embrace.
“I have watched him for months, Mae. I have seen how he fights his inner pain. I have seen how he cuts his skin. I have seen how he does it. So I did what he does to himself. I cut him… I… I took the blade and I cut him… I had to release the flames.”
My tears flowed like a river, self-disgust filling my body. Just as I thought I would not be able to fill the pit in my stomach, Viking said, “You got that close?”
His question caught me off guard, immediately drying up my tears. Slowly lifting my head from Mae’s shoulder, I met Viking’s shocked expression and nodded my head.
Viking’s head turned quickly to stare at AK. AK’s brow furrowed. “And why’s he quiet now?”
Clearing my throat, I answered, “He is sleeping. The cuts released the flames. He is resting.”
AK’s eyes widened and he turned away, walking toward the trees, running his fingers through his long hair.
Sitting forward, I addressed Viking. “He needed to rest. But I told him I would stay. That I would be nearby until he is free from this torture.” Ky ducked away and chased down AK. My heart was in my mouth as Ky reached Flame’s best friend. Ky put his arm around
AK’s shoulders, which immediately sagged.
“We thought he was lost. We’ve tried everything for two days. But us in that room? It only made him ten times fucking worse. I have no idea who he thought we were, but he sure as fuck wasn’t seeing it was his brothers. We were ready to take him out, then you came, and in a matter of minutes you get him to calm the fuck down, you get him to sleep,” Viking revealed.
His head dropped. He looked so sad. In fact, AK and Viking both looked utterly exhausted. My stomach tightened when I realized just how much they loved Flame. They must have felt so helpless.
My fingers tensed at my side, then, drawing in a fortifying breath, I shyly reached out my hand, but at last minute pulled it back. Viking's head shot up. He stared at me, then his lip hooked up at the corner, giving me a whisper of a smile.
“I am staying with Flame.”
Viking released a long pent up breath.
“Maddie,” Mae cautiously offered, “No one expects you to stay. You have already helped Flame beyond all of our expectations.”
In an instant my back straightened and I got to my feet. I glimpsed Styx, silently watching me, his dark features tracking my every move. But I kept tight hold of my will.
“I am staying,” I emphasized.
Mae got to her feet. “Why, Maddie?”
I turned to my sister and said, “Because that is my Flame in there. And he needs me. No one else. Me.”
“Your Flame?” she whispered, and her head tilted to the side.
I felt a blush coat my cheeks and I shrugged. “That is how I regard Flame. As mine. From the moment I was able to touch him, and he touched me, I was claimed. I have been his this whole time.”
Dusting off my long skirt, giving my anxious hands something to do, I asked Mae, “Please can you bring us some food? Ingredients to make soup? And things to clean his cabin?”
Mae nodded numbly. Styx reached out and, wrapping an arm around her chest, pulled her flush against his. His lips moved to her ear. He whispered something only the two of them could hear. Mae’s eyes closed, but she sighed and nodded her head.
“I shall bring them down straight away Maddie,” Mae announced.
“Thank you.” Mae glanced to Ky, AK and Viking, then back to me. “Are you okay to stay here while I get what you have asked for?”
I nodded my head.
Mae and Styx quickly disappeared into the woods, leaving me alone with the three men. I stood, head down, playing with my hands, when Viking cleared his throat and spoke.
“You need to be direct when you speak to him.” Curious at that instruction, I raised my head, only to see Ky and AK join Viking.
AK glanced at Viking, then focused on me. “He doesn’t get subtlety. If you want something from him, ask him outright. Don’t hint at it, because he won’t understand. If you want to know what he’s thinking, ask him. He might not tell you, the brother doesn’t say much, but he just might. And he’s shy, real shy. He’ll struggle to be around you, to know how to act. But if you talk to him or look busy, it chills him out. And fuck, if he gets out of this shitstorm he’s in, and he cuts himself, don’t stare. He gets real self-conscious.”
“He doesn’t really show emotion either. If he’s happy, which honestly, I don’t think he’s ever been, or if he’s sad, his face won’t change. But you’ll know if he’s angry. He can’t seem to contain that shit. It eats him up when he’s angry. The flames… they burn more when he’s pissed,” Viking added.
I exhaled, not realizing that I had not breathed while they spoke to me. My hand lifted to press against my forehead.
Viking ducked down from his impressive height to catch my eye. “You get that, Madds?”
I nodded my head, trying desperately to remember everything that had been offered, when I tentatively asked, “Why… why is he like that?”
AK’s face tightened, a protective expression adorning his features. “Just the way he is, Maddie. Flame’s different. But it don’t make him any less fucking important.”
“Look, Madds. Flame just thinks different to you and me. Probably some condition he’s got, that he was born with. But he don’t know what that is, and honestly, even if I thought I knew what it could be, it’s none of my fucking business. He’s Flame. He’s my fucking brother, condition or not.”
If the situation had been different, I would have smiled at how much they seemed to care for Flame.
Silence fell on the three of us after that, Viking and AK moving to sit on chairs outside another cabin. Then my heart sank to my feet when I saw a third chair empty. In my mind’s eye I pictured the three best friends sitting out here at night, before Flame came to stand guard below my window.
My eyes sought out the wooden door to Flame’s cabin. I wondered if Flame knew how loved he was? I suspected strongly he did not. I imagined that whichever dark thoughts imprisoned him made it impossible for him to see.
“You holding up, Madds?”
Whipping my head to the side, Ky was leaning up against the cabin, foot on the wall, cigarette in hand. I nodded my head, and fixed my stare on the line of the trees, willing Mae to hurry up and return.
“You sure ‘bout that?” Ky pushed.
“Yes,” I whispered and watched as Ky’s eyes narrowed their focus on me. He took a drag of his cigarette, then exhaled a large puff of smoke. And watching him made me think of Lilah. Of their journey. Lilah was so damaged. I was damaged. So damaged that I knew I would be alone for the rest of my life. And I was content with that. Lilah had been too. Yet Ky won Lilah’s heart. As damaged as she was, even after she hurt herself, after she scarred her face, he wanted her above all others. And he secured her hand under God.
Ky did not move, his eyes stayed forward, but he asked, “Just ask it, Madds. Whatever’s on your fucking mind.”
Feeling heat infuse my face at being caught, I plucked up the courage to ask, “You love Lilah,” I said quietly.
Ky threw his cigarette to the ground, then turned to me, smiling his pretty smile. “That a question or a statement, sugar?”
“A question,” I replied.
Ky’s smile faded and he nodded his head. “She’s my fucking life, Madds. I love that bitch to death.”
“Even though she is damaged? Even after what happened to us—, to her, at The Order? It is not too much for you to cope with?”
Ky’s jaw clenched at the mention of The Order. For a moment I did not think he would answer. Then, breathing deeply, Ky answered. “Not at all, Madds. Do I believe all the Jesus shit Li does? Not one fucking bit. But that bitch had my heart when I first saw y’all crawling outta that cell. And yeah she was damaged, didn’t think she was worth shit. But she always was to me. Same as Mae to Styx. Those cunts at that cult nearly destroyed you bitches. That don’t mean you can’t heal. Look at Li now, best fucking bitch on the damn planet. And I got her. She’s mine. Fucking damaged or not. And I’m the luckiest SOB around.”
My throat thickened with emotion on hearing the conviction of his words. For the first time ever, I felt myself wanting to know what it was like. What being wanted to the furthest extent would be like? What being loved so fully, so deeply, would be like?
The cool wind wrapped in my hair, blowing it around my face, when suddenly Ky was before me. He made sure I was looking into his blue eyes, when he stated, “He won’t care.”
I blinked in response, my forehead creasing, unsure what Ky meant. Then he pointed toward Flame’s cabin. “Flame. He won’t care that you’ve been through shit. I don’t know his background, fuck, even AK and Viking don’t know most of it. But he’s already gone for you, Madds. I ain’t gonna lie, I don’t know what being gone for you looks like in that fucking messed up head of his, but that brother in there fucking took a bullet for you. Ain’t gonna get more commitment than that. You feeling me?”
My heart fluttered at Ky’s kind words, but just as I was about to thank him, Mae and Styx emerged from the woods, Styx holding three bags.
When they came cl
ose, I reached my hands out and took the bags.
“Food, cleaning supplies. I also put together some dresses for you, other clean clothes. And your sketchpad and pencils, so you can still draw. I know how much you love to draw.” Mae offered a supportive smile. Pressing a kiss to my cheek, she warned, “Be careful.”
My heart swelled. “Thank you, sister.”
I gave Mae a small smile, then turned to face the door. I closed my eyes. Opening them, I quietly turned the doorknob and stepped inside. Placing the bags on the floor, my eyes fell upon Flame still lying on the bed.
I walked forward, my steps as quiet as the night until I came to a stop by his side. The sight of him, bloodied and damaged, asking me to end his life of misery still cut me deeply. But sleeping, Flame was… he was… perfect.
He was always a tortured soul. He was always pacing, muttering, or cutting. And seeing him like this, so quiet and still. It broke my heart.
Lifting my hand, I hovered it over Flame’s face. And without making contact, I ran it over his forehead, down his slightly crooked nose, over his full lips and through his beard. A smile tugged on my lips as I continued running my hand just above his arm until I came to his hand. His hand was upturned, showing me his palm.
Picturing the sketch from my drawing pad, I floated my hand directly over his. His hand was so much bigger than mine. So much rougher, covered in tattoos of flames, piercings boasting silver metal studs, and scars. My hand was small and pale in color, yet I had never in my life seen anything that looked as perfect to me as this sight.
A moan slipped from Flame’s mouth and I stepped back, feeling the immediate loss of the image of our enjoined hands, of being so close to the man I had chosen—no, needed to save.
Flame tried to turn over, but the ties on his hands and feet prevented him. Even in slumber, a frustrated frown marred his forehead.
I warred with what to do. He wanted to be free, had begged me to set him free. I knew in my heart that he would not, could not, hurt me.