27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Declan

I’ve been up for hours, one of those spent under scalding water, hoping the pain of my scars will quench my thirst to suffer for existing.

The silent darkness of night does two things. It shields the wicked and awakens desire. As I sit here, my eyes wander between a bible I fear and respect and the three people I crave so much I’d be willing to burn in damnation.

Life is a mean bitch with a sick sense of humor. Choices that make us happy in the mortal realm are the same ones that cause us the most harm in the afterlife. But in the stillness, sunsets and rainbows flood my mind, and for a moment, I conceive that it’s okay to be happy in this world with no thought of what’s coming in the next.

My eyes linger on Noelle. She’s nestled between Cas and Lorne. They’re her shelter and the storm. I don’t understand how she’s come to mean so much to not one but all of us in such a short time.

But isn’t that the meaning of a miracle, a phenomenon that you can’t explain? It simply is. She is much like a prophet, a message of hope, absolution, and redemption sent to sinners by God to guide them.

She creates an adhesive that holds the frail fabric of our sanity intact. Even in moments of pure lust-filled rage, I sense peace when I’m with her. But as much as I want to keep her and how desperately I need her, I know we’ll destroy her.

I place the bible on the nightstand and head into the washroom. The glare of the warm white light magnifies the new wounds on my body. I scrub my face with my bandaged hands. A reminder of how fucked up I truly am. The horror she must have felt when she walked into the room and saw me, the sheer bewilderment and shock that likely coursed through her body.

Before I can stop myself, my hand connects with the mirror, creating a fractured spider. I laugh as I gaze at the dispersed lines. The fragments are much like my mind—the source of trauma in the center and twisted lines around it. My destruction was forged in the womb. I never had a chance.

“Declan?”

I shut my eyes. Even in my waking hours, her voice still haunts me. I grip the belt lying on the counter and wrap it around my hand before I strike my back. “Loving Lord Jesus, for too long have I kept you out of my life. I accept that I am a sinner and cannot save myself.”

“Declan.” Her voice lingers, refusing to leave me.

My knuckles are white as I hold on to the edge of the counter, bracing myself as I strike again. “Lord, no longer will I shut the door when I hear you knocking.”

“Declan!” This time, she screams right before the lash of the belt and the sound of a thump.

I close my eyes and focus on my retribution. I desperately try to push anything else out of my mind other than my undying need for God.

My hand is steady as I throw the belt in mid-air, but there’s no sting from the leather on my back. I tug, and this time the belt seems heavier.

“No, Declan. I won’t let you hurt yourself.”

I whirl, and standing before me is a vision. My Eve.

“The effects of last night haven’t healed. Look at your hand, Declan.”

I gaze at my palm and see blood seeping from the wound. “It doesn’t matter. This is just a vessel for my spirit. I don’t need to save a shell. The penance is for my soul.”

She tugs at the belt. “I won’t let you. The god I love wouldn’t want you to do this. My god is loving, he is kind, and he is merciful. Whatever deity you’re harming yourself for doesn’t give a fuck about you. You’re not the judge of humanity and the ruler over what’s pious and sinful.”

“Let me?” I laugh, circling my hand on the belt and pulling her toward me. “How cute that you think you’re a match for me.” My hand circles her throat.

Fear flashes in her eyes, but she holds her ground, her shoulders back. “I’m not scared of you.”

I slam her against the wall, holding her tightly by her throat. Her hands grip the vise of my fingers, desperate to pull them off her as her skin turns a reddish hue. “There’s only one person you should fear, Eve, and that’s your maker, not me, my sweet Jezebel. I’m only a fucking executioner.”

Her naked pussy is now level in the air with my cock. I don’t ask permission. I don’t whisper sweet nothings. I just rail into the warmth of her cunt, hoping to chase away my demons.

I release her neck, and her hands replace mine. I’m not sure if it’s as a shield or a bandage against the damage I’ve already inflicted and will continue to as long as she’s near me.

I bend her back until her head touches the marble floor. I support her waist with one hand while the other lashes her skin with the leather. “If I can’t drive the demon out of myself, I’ll fuck it out of you.”

She places her hands at the sides of her head to aid in holding her weight. She should run, but she doesn’t. Instead, she bites down on her lip and moans, taking the lashes of penance meant for me.

“Flee from sexual immorality. All other sins a person commits are outside the body, but whoever sins sexually sins against their own body.”

“Stop quoting scripture, Declan. Stop twisting everything you do and making it seem like you’re acting by the will of God. If you want to fuck me, fuck me. If you long to debase me, do it. Don’t wear faith as a mask to cover up your depravity. Be a man and take responsibility.”

My vision blurs with the rage festering in my veins. A part of me wants her to suffer for how I react to her, but another part wants to burn for what I’m doing to her. I’m unable to forge my emotions into words, which fuels the fires of rage within me. All I know how to do is pray and draw blood. I wanted it to be mine, but she wouldn’t leave.

She screams as the tip of the leather belt connects with her nipple.

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that He may lift you in due time.”

I drop the belt and grip her hips, pinching her flesh as I propel her on my cock. My thrusts are wild and untamed. “How does it feel, Eve, to be nothing but a fucking cum dump? To be used like a piece of meat? That’s all you whores deserve.”

“You forget, Declan. It was a common whore who stood by Jesus when the men who claimed to be apostles abandoned him. Call me a whore, spit the word out like it’s poison, but you know the truth as well as I do. It was the whore and the Madonna. Two sides to the coin for true believers.”

She squeals, in pain or delight, I’m not sure as I lift her ankles and fuck her like she’s a blow-up doll. I want to drown her in my cum, use her, and love her.

My emotions fester with nowhere to go but to be unleashed on her. She’s different from Lorne and Cas because I view them as comrades and fellow soldiers. They don’t threaten me because they’re broken like me.

But Noelle is a threat to everything I believe is true. She’s a mirror showing me a reflection I can’t bear. She’s the balm that can soothe my soul, but I’m the venom that will be her undoing.

I tug her body up, circling her in my arms and pulling her tightly to me, wanting to lose myself in her warmth. I bury my face in her long dark hair and inhale her scent, imprinting it in my memory forever. “You can’t stay. We’ll destroy you. I’ll demolish your light and leave you a vacant shell. Run, Eve. Run because nothing good lies within our depths.”