34. Rain

Idon’t regret a moment.

This has only validated what I already knew. This is where I am meant to be.

As E slides my dress over my bottom, I begin to stand up and take in the scene before me once more.

Dark red blood drips off me and side of the table. The Devil, known as my father, is lifeless on the ground and his pathetic servant is lying dead next to him.

“We should get going.” I suggest.

If the cars on fire exploding didn’t alert anyone, the people who just left here have. I know E is untouchable, which I assume transfers over to me. But I would still rather not be caught at the scene of the crime.

Reaching down, Elijah grabs his bat. Walking around the table, he bends again, this time coming back up with his hammer which is placed back under his belt to hang.

It has tiny pieces of skull fragments hanging off it. I prepare for it to turn my stomach as I stare, but it doesn’t. I’m stronger than I thought.

Holding my hand out, he reaches behind him then places the dagger in my hand, which I thread through my black ribbon belt.

We don’t say a single word to one another, but we move as if we have had an entire conversion.

E walks over to one of the followers who is still passed out and kicks them a couple times, “Hey, fucker wake up. Shows over. Go home.”

The person doesn’t move, I think they are awake but too scared to show it. Can’t say I blame them.

Looking at the fire—the infamous fire which held so much meaning and power over The Chapel, now it no longer does.

I fucking hate this place.

“Can you light the table on fire?”

Hearing his footsteps behind me as the gravel crunches beneath his combat boots, I am trying to gauge which direction he is going. The flicking of his lighter tells me he is at the table.

Turning around, I watch as E, standing tall and hot as fuck in his tight jeans, top and combat boots. His skin, which is beautifully decorated in ink, including his face—I think that’s my favorite. His hair flops over his forehead, fuck this view can’t get any better and he’s all mine.

Standing a few feet back, a large flame shoots out of his flamethrower and attaches itself to the wood.

Moving it slowly from one side of the table to the other, he makes sure to encase it all with fire. The areas where fresh blood remains light quicker than the rest, the flames roar to life feeding on it.

As he keeps his focus, he also questions, “Should I burn them too?” His chin motions to my father and his third, who are dead on the ground just behind the table.

“No. Leave them to rot.” They deserve to have maggots and worms feasting on their flesh. Along with whatever other bug or rodent that needs a meal.

Elijah goes over the table once more before turning his thrower off and draping it back over his shoulder.

The few who passed out earlier still haven’t moved.

Screw it, we will just leave them here.

Reaching out my hand, E walks over to me and laces our fingers together. His bat is back in his hand as he twiddles and rotates it. Walking through the archway, a massive weight leaves me, the worry, anger and negative energy are gone. Left behind where it belongs.

Swinging our hands back and forth, I start skipping down the long, dimly lit passageway that leads to where we are parked. I can feel E side-eyeing me like I am nuts but I know hes also watching my tits bounce, so I don’t say anything, but I do throw a wink at him.

A familiar archway appears next to me, which causes me to freeze in place. We passed it before and I was so focused on why we were here that I didn’t even notice.

Pulling on his hand, I dragged him through it, “Rain, are you sure?” He questions with unease.

“I need to see it one last time.”

Letting out a loud sigh, he is frustrated but knows better than to stop me.

The steel bars come into view. Getting closer to where I was held, the door is propped open as the unlocked padlock hangs from it.

Reaching my fingers out, I brush them over the cold steel. Looking inside the space, I can see myself inside, defeated, mourning and timid. My stepmother was ready to lead me to a life sentence of imprisonment, to be kept by her husband, my father.

Then Elijah came and saved me.

Our connection since that night at my bar, has only gotten stronger.

He doesn’t rush me which I appreciate, he allows me to take my time saying goodbye to the space that forever changed my life. Elijah will never understand how he had a hand in this, understanding feelings isn’t something he can do automatically, but he is trying and maybe one day he will see what I see.

A fucking great person who does love hard. He is loyal—a tad over the top but that’s what makes him uniquely E. And he is a great fuck.

Moving my hand from the bars, I brush his vial of blood which is now home around my neck.

I’m done. I’m ready to close this chapter and start the next.

He can feel it.

Guiding us out of the space, we step through the archway back into the main passage. But we aren’t alone anymore.

Someone comes rushing from the entrance towards us, still in their black robe and white mask, “You won’t get away with this. The Dark One will come for you!” They shout at us.

Elijah mumbles under his breath, “Fucking annoying.” Then unlaces his fingers from mine.

Gripping his bat with both hands, he waits until the person gets closer and shouts back at them, “Well, my Dark One showed me that you are a fucking cunt.” Then he smashes his bat against the person’s head.

The person falls over, laying either dead or unconscious on the ground.

Elijah positions himself over them, one leg on either side of him. He raises his bat over his head and thrusts it down, beating their head with the wooden bat in quick succession. E’s face is neutral until his last swing, when a tiny smirk forms.

At the same time, blood begins to pour out from behind the mask, pooling around their head.

E steps back over towards me and reaches his arm out.

Neither of us care as we grab each others hands again, step over them and continue walking out.

“See, he got some action tonight.”

A giggle escapes me from utter shock, “Wait, did Elijah Sinclair just make a joke?”

He doesn’t humor me back, so I continue to bug him.

“Elijah Sinclair has a sense of humor. Alert the masses. He knows how to joke!”

He huffs, “I am going to enjoy disciplining you later, aren’t I?”

Shit.