Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen #5)

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Damnable Grace (Hades Hangmen #5) Page 26

by Tillie Cole


  I saw the blood before the body.

  “Fuck,” Vike spat. Bird’s hacked-up body lay lifeless on the floor. I ducked down and felt the blood—it was still warm. My heart kicked into a sprint. “He’s only been dead a couple of hours max.” I got to my feet. “Fuck!” I screamed, hands on my head. “Dev!”

  I flew to the truck and pulled out of the driveway fast as I could. I broke every speed limit along the way. I tried to get Tina on her cell. No fucking answer. “Dev, don’t have done something fucking stupid,” I said to thin air.”

  An hour later I pulled into the driveway to see a truck there . . . Bird’s truck. The blood rushed from my face when I saw the back door was open. There was no sound at all. There were no neighbors for miles. Right now, there was just me and whatever lay in this house.

  My stomach rolled when I saw Tina’s SUV in the driveway, Zane’s car seat in the back. “No,” I whispered. I pushed through the door.

  My feet were light as I crept through the small farmhouse, searching every corner. I stopped dead in the doorway to the kitchen. A trail of blood, fresh blood, snaked along the floor.

  My legs shook, but I forced them to keep going, to step into the room. A sound ripped from my throat when I saw Tina on the floor. Tina’s lifeless body, slashed at the neck and wrists, stab wounds though her heart. Bile climbed up my throat as her dead eyes stared up at me, her face frozen in an expression of shock. Tina . . . fucking Tina. My sister . . . my second mother.

  No . . .

  Panic took over . . . Zane. I shot through the house, searching everywhere I could think of. The final place to look was their bedroom. The door was shut. My heart pounded so hard it was all I could hear as I turned the knob and slowly opened the door. I saw blood again. Blood from beside the bed. I walked around, bracing myself for what I might find. The gargled sound of choking on blood hit my ears. I flew around the rest of the bed. Dev was slumped against the side of the bed. His blood poured from the gashes that sliced across his wrist and throat. I dove down and took him in my arms. “Dev! No!” The blood kept coming and I couldn’t fucking stop it.

  “Dev!” I called out, sobs racking my chest. “What have you done?”

  “Safe,” he managed to push from his throat. “Safe . . .” I clenched my eyes shut. “No!” I rocked him in my arms. “Don’t leave me,” I begged as his eyes began to glaze over. “Dev! Don’t you fucking dare leave me!” But he began to still in my arms. His blood was everywhere, on my hands, on the floor. “Dev? Where’s Zane?” I asked as his body started fitting. I held him closer and counted the seconds until he grew still.

  Thirty-two seconds.

  Tears fell down from my cheeks and mixed with the blood on my hands. “Dev,” I whispered, rocking him back and forth. My chest was caved in, my heart ripped from it. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t fucking breathe!

  “Shit,” a voice said from the doorway. I turned my head, not letting my brother go. Vike and Flame stood there, staring at the blood. “Brother,” Vike said in a hushed voice, the fucker serious for once.

  “He killed her. He killed himself. He thought he was still there. That they were gonna come for him again . . .” I squeezed more water from my eyes. “I think he thought he was saving her, saving himself. He wouldn’t . . . he’s not a murderer . . .” I glanced down at his dark eyes. “He’s my fucking brother . . .

  . . . He’s my fucking hero . . .”

  “No,” Phebe whispered as she rocked me in her arms. “AK, no . . .” she said again and I knew she was crying too. She wiped my tears, kissed my skin as she held me close to her chest. “Zane?” she asked. “Where was Zane?”

  “His Aunt Claire’s. She had taken him for the afternoon.” I blinked and looked into Phebe’s blue gaze. “If he had been there . . . he would have killed him too, Phebe. He would have. His own kid.”

  “And where is he now?” She looked at the picture of his young face still in my hand.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “Claire banned me from seeing him. She moved away. He . . . he didn’t even go to his own daddy’s funeral. Claire and Tom buried Tina separately, calling my brother a murderer. I buried Dev alone, only Vike and Flame beside me. He didn’t even get a military service.” I rolled onto my back and tried to breathe. “That kid was my whole fucking life, and I ain’t seen him in years.” I looked at the picture of us all on my graduation from the Marines and didn’t even recognize those people anymore. I didn’t recognize me. “He’d be fifteen now.” I ran my hand over Zane’s face. “And I don’t fucking know him. I never will.”

  “AK.” Phebe laid her head on my shoulder. “I have no words to say to you. I do not know how to be of help.”

  I felt her in my arms. “You are, just by being here,” I said. “You help because you understand. No other person has ever understood me like you do.” I held her close. “You understand me, and I get you.”

  Silence stretched as I stared at the ceiling, completely drained. “AK?” Phebe’s sleepy voice finally asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are they still there?”

  I tensed and looked at the end of the bed. I knew what she meant. The terrors. I braced myself for seeing those fucked-up faces . . . but then I exhaled a long, long breath. “No,” I said hoarsely, seeing only the darkness of the night. “They’ve gone,” I said, a sudden lightness creeping to my heavy heart. “They’ve gone.”

  “Mm,” she murmured and rubbed her cheek against my chest. “That is because you are not to blame either.”

  I glanced down at Phebe’s red hair and took in her words. You are not to blame either . . .

  I didn’t remember falling asleep, but that night I slept. For more than two fucking hours.

  And I didn’t dream at all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  AK

  “Hello,” Phebe said as I opened my eyes. She was still lying beside me where we had fallen asleep last night. My eyes felt like they’d taken one hell of a beating. My throat was raw, and I was exhausted.

  “Hey.” I glanced down to see her hand still in mine. I flinched when I stared directly at a ray of light coming through the crack between the curtain and the window. “It’s morning?” I ran my hand over my bare chest. I must have taken my shirt off in the night.

  “It is afternoon.” She smiled. “We slept the entire morning and night.” Her smile left her lips, and she lifted her free hand and ran it down my face. “How are you feeling?”

  “Rough,” I said. Phebe was looking at me, clearly wanting me to say more. I stretched out my neck and thought of last night. Of everything I had confided. I waited for the usual tight chest. The shame and the guilt. And it was there. I was sure it would never go away. But today it was . . . less. “Better,” I said and meant it. “A little better.”

  Her eyes softened. “Good.” She kissed my hand again. “I have been thinking while you slept.”

  “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “I think . . . I think we were meant to find each other, AK. I think we were meant to find each other, to leave hell together.” I didn’t reply. I had no words. “I think that no solution is quick, and no remedy will magically make our pain drift away. I believe that we must go through this pain we are feeling in order to move on. And I believe whatever God or greater power exists above us brought us together so we may heal together. Heal the other in a way that no other person ever could.” Her eyes dipped, and a fuck-off blush coated her freckled cheeks. “At least that is what I have been considering.” She laughed a single laugh. “But that could be me just being silly.”

  “No.” I put my hand under her chin. I lifted her face, waiting until those shy eyes were back on me. “I think you’re right, Red. I think you could be fucking right.” A beaming smile lit up her face. “What?”

  “Red,” she said with a sigh. “I like it when you call me Red.”

  “Yeah?”

  A nod. “Yes.”

  I shuffled clo
ser and closer until my nose touched her nose and my lips hovered over hers. “You know what I like?” She shook her head. “Your lips, on mine.”

  She swallowed and pressed a hand on my chest. The minute her hand met my skin, my cock stirred in my jeans.

  “You do?” she asked softly.

  I ran my teeth over my bottom lip. “Mm . . .” I leaned in and brushed my lips over hers until I heard a moan from her mouth. I ran my hand up her bare arm to the thin strap of her nightgown. Her skin bumped at my touch, and I smiled at all the freckles covering her body.

  “AK,” she murmured and closed her eyes.

  “Red?”

  “Kiss me,” she begged. I pushed my hand into her hair.

  And I fucking kissed her.

  My lips stung, the after-effects of the fucking crying. My lips—and hers—were swollen, but I sure as fuck wasn’t pulling back and neither was she. My tongue pushed through into her mouth, and she moaned.

  I wasn’t hurried. I wasn’t fast. Being with her, like this, was different. No bitch had ever known me, not like this. No one had ever known everything about my demons—not even Vike and AK knew how bad the terrors had gotten.

  But Red did. And I knew her. Knew of her abuse. The kid. The same guilt and shame that ran though my veins ran through hers too. I broke from Phebe’s mouth, and she gasped for breath. I didn’t stop. I tracked my lips down her neck, pushing her red hair back on the pillow. The two of us took up every inch of this narrow bed, but I liked it. She was here, under me, beside me, and no matter where she or I moved, the other was there.

  I shifted on top of her, moving her underneath my body. My arms flexed on either side of her head as I looked down at her. Her blue eyes were wide, the pupils blown. “Fucking beautiful.” I pushed the remaining strands of hair from her face.

  “AK,” she said, and her hushed voice seemed to hold a note of surprise. Her cheeks were flushed, but I could still see her freckles underneath the pink. And then it hit me. She had been whored out, probably been fucked in more ways than most bitches would ever see in a lifetime. But when it came to this, slow, meaning more than seducing and coming, she was fucking lost.

  Like this, she may as well have been a virgin. Fuck, me too. Ain’t ever taken a bitch like this, face to face, eye to eye. Ain’t ever taken a bitch with honesty laid down between us, nothing left unsaid.

  And ain’t ever took a bitch I liked.

  Fuck . . . I liked Phebe.

  “You . . . you are beautiful too.” She smiled shyly and nervously put her hand on my face. She’d said her daughter had been beautiful and shy. I wondered if she hadn’t been brainwashed and groomed until she was a man’s wet dream, if she’d have been shy too. Fuck, she had beauty in spades. And right now, she was as nervous as hell.

  Bending down, needing to feel her mouth on mine, I kissed her, quickly breaking away to kiss down her neck. Phebe’s hands wrapped in my hair as I carried on further south—over her collarbone and down until the neckline of her nightdress got in my way. Glancing back up at her, making sure she wanted this, I lifted the hem of her dress and slowly brought it up, baring her legs, her pussy, her stomach and eventually her tits. When she didn’t protest, I brought it over her head and threw it to the ground. I sat back on my heels and looked down at her on the narrow bed. Her skin was bright white, but perfect. My hands landed on her calves, then traced up over her thighs, over her hips, along her stomach until they reached her tits. Slowly and gently, I ran my fingers over the flesh until I reached her nipples. She exhaled a quick breath as the pads of my thumbs ran over her flesh. I met her gaze. Her swollen lips were parted. Her back arched as I touched her, explored her body. But best of all, her nervous eyes, when they locked on me, calmed and settled.

  “You good, Red?” A small smile pulled on her lips and she nodded.

  “Good.” I lowered my head and circled the tip of my tongue around her nipple. Phebe moaned and shifted on the bed. I palmed her tit, then sucked the full bud into my mouth. My cock slammed against the fly of my jeans. She tasted fucking perfect. So I took more. I sucked and licked until she started pulling on my hair, silently begging for more.

  Breaking from her tits, the flesh now wet and red, I licked down her torso to her stomach. My hands stayed on her hips, keeping her in place. “AK,” she murmured over and over. I stopped between her legs. My thumbs stroked down from her hips and along the top of her thighs. “Please,” she begged as her legs spread wider and she bared her pussy for my eyes.

  Her eyes were hooded, and she was biting on her lip. “Gonna lick you, Red,” I said, my voice deep and raw. Her eyes closed, and a groan slipped from her throat. “You want that?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “Please . . .”

  Needing no more permission than that, I shuffled down the bed until my chest pressed against the mattress and my feet moved off the end. I braced my elbows down, and parting the lips of her pussy with my thumbs, leaned forward and licked a long stripe from her hole to her clit. Phebe’s hips jerked from the bed, and I had to press them down to keep her place. Her moans were long and just as sweet as her pussy as I did it again, and again. I sucked her clit into my mouth, feeling it swell.

  “AK,” she murmured. “I cannot take it . . . it feels . . . it feels . . .” I stopped and lifted my head. Her desperate eyes met mine, her cheeks beaming red. “Perfect,” she said. Her hand reached down and ran along my cheek. “So, so perfect.” I saw the tears build in her eyes. I saw her looking down at me like no bitch had ever looked at me before. So I licked her again. I sucked her clit slowly, carefully, listening as she began to lose her breath. Her hands tightened in my hair as I felt her clench around my tongue. Then she stilled, and a loud cry came from her chest and filled up the room. I didn’t stop. I was addicted to her taste as she came into my mouth. I lapped at her pussy until her hand pushed me away.

  I stood and shucked off my jeans as I watched Phebe depleted on the bed, gasping for breath. Her long hair was splayed on the pillow, wild and untamed.

  I kicked my jeans aside and stroked along my hard cock. Phebe lay still and just watched me as I slowly climbed over her, gently dragging my hand over her bare skin as I did. I walked my hands up the mattress until they landed on either side of her head. I stared down at her face, not saying a thing. I just wanted to look at her, like this. No bullshit temptress shit. No talk of cocks and fucking and wanting to take me. Just her, like this, nervous and shy and fresh from coming under my tongue.

  “Christ,” I growled and pushed my tongue into her mouth. Phebe’s hands wrapped around my neck and she pulled me close, like the bitch couldn’t let me go. I didn’t want her to. I was fine just where the fuck I was.

  Using my knees to spread her legs, I slipped my hips down until my cock ran over her wet pussy. I groaned as I drank her moans. Phebe broke from my mouth and just fucking breathed.

  “Want you, Red,” I said, my voice rough.

  “I . . . want this,” she said.

  Pulling my head back, so I could see her eyes, I said, “I wanna take you. Wanna take this pussy, this fucking bruised soul and this heart. You good with that?”

  Phebe’s lips shook, and tears filled her eyes. My fucking throat thickened at the sight.

  “Yes,” she said with a watery laugh, pushing a smile on her lips. “I want that.” Her head lifted and she kissed my lips. “Take me,” she said against my mouth.

  Groaning, I pushed forward, my cock slipping inside her, inch by inch, until I hit home and bottomed out. “Fuck!” I hissed as her pussy wrapped around me. Phebe’s head fell back on the pillow, and her fingers tightened on the nape of my neck. I buried my face into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent as I moved my hips.

  My back and arm muscles flexed as I rocked into her, back and forth. Slow, and unhurried. Our breathing was deep and labored. Phebe’s hands fell from around my neck, and a breathy moan came from her mouth. I lifted my head. I needed to see her face. I needed her to know who was taking her.
I needed to watch her eyes.

  I swallowed when I saw them. I fucking almost broke again when I saw them, brimming with tears, slow drops falling down her cheeks as I kept moving gently, filling her over and over again, calmly, fucking softly. “AK,” she mouthed silently. Her lashes were wet, and her lips were shaking.

  I felt her pussy walls clenching my dick and moved my hips faster. But I never moved my eyes from hers and she didn’t move hers from me. My breathing stuttered when I saw a flash of redness travel down her neck and over her chest. Her hips rocked against mine, and fuck, it felt incredible. She wound her fingers in my hair, then slipped them down to gently cup my cheeks. Her lips parted. I felt her pussy clamp down as she came with a long, soft moan. The feel of her coming, the sight of her face, and those fucking hands on my cheeks saw me following behind. My hands balled into fists as I came, thrusting into her. I stilled, groaning, but never moving my eyes from hers. She stroked my cheeks as I relaxed my arms and caught my breath.

  I kissed her then, tasting the salt from her tears in my mouth, on my tongue. I kissed her and kissed her until I had no choice but to break away and take a breath. I pressed my forehead to Phebe’s and closed my eyes. I had no idea what we to call what we had just done, but it wasn’t just fucking.

  As if reading my mind, Phebe whispered, “Making love.” I reared back so my face was hovering just an inch from hers. Her eyes were wide and searching. “That was it, was it not? That was . . . making love?” I swallowed, not knowing what the fuck to say to that. Love . . .? “I had heard talk of it before, but never believed it could be true.” She smiled, her bottom lip trembling. I wanted nothing more than to fucking hold the bitch and tell her everything would be okay. “It has never been like that before, not for me. This was different. I, with you, am different. I . . .” She thought for a moment. “I am at peace.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “Does that make sense? That you bring me peace?”

 

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