9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Declan

I’m not one of those people who sees beauty in the world. All I know is ugliness, pain, and sadness. I was born in hell. I was raised in fire. And I deal in retribution. But every day, I repent in the hope of salvation.

My life is about avoiding temptation. I’m a flawed man. I stumble daily. But as I gaze at the two people I love most in the world, I have a moment of peace before her voice echoes violently in my mind.

If a man lies with a male as with a woman, they have committed an abomination; they shall surely be put to death; their blood is upon them.

And that’s when it all crumbles into ash. I can no longer look at them as two people I love. All I see are serpents of hell tempting me into the world of sin. Not only am I disgusted with myself, but I’m also disgusted with them.

Some days I think they’d be better off if I left, and they’d never have to see me again. They could be happy, but I’m too selfish for that because they’re the only two people who’ve made me feel like I’m not the spawn of Satan and I’m worthy of love.

Lorne bursts into the room first. I’ve never seen him so out of control. He’s the one with the level head. He’s cool, calculated, and void of emotion. Well, that’s what people think when they don’t know him. Iceman. But he enters the room like he’s about to explode, and that’s a rarity. It’s a side you only see if he gives a fuck about you.

The Peter guy looks shocked. His eyes scan between the three of us and the door, trying to find an escape route. His hands are by his side, and his fingers twitch nervously.

“Get the fuck away from her,” Lorne growls.

Peter’s face is priceless. The guy looks like he’s been caught with his pants down. I suppose he would have been if we’d arrived ten minutes later. He raises his hands in the air, trying to feign innocence. “She was tired, man. I brought her up here so she could lie down. I swear I was going to leave.”

He’s nailed his coffin closed. We haven’t said anything, and he’s spun a tale. That’s what guilty people do—assume you knew their intentions and try to convince you that wasn’t their plan. Well, Peter, I hope you’ve made peace with your maker because you’re about to meet the grim reaper.

Cas’s arm flies through the air, landing directly on Peter’s face. Blood splatters from his nose, and he stumbles back. “Real smart, motherfucker. Leaving a fucking drunk, defenseless girl alone in some random dude’s bedroom at a frat house. Like frat boys are fucking Catholic choir boys. What do you think would happen to her if one of these drunk douchebags walked in and saw her?”

Cas isn’t thinking rationally. He wants a reason to beat him. Peter will probably be dead by morning, but Cas is doing what Cas does best—playing with his food before he devours it whole. I think it comes from the shit his father made him do.

Regret fills my gut as I remember his expression earlier. I hate that I hurt him, but he’s trying to get something from someone who’s broken. Broken people can’t heal anyone because all we’re trying to do is survive.

Peter opens his mouth, but Cas punches him again before he can speak. “That was a rhetorical question, asshole. I don’t need you to open your big fat mouth and tell me more lies. We warned you to stay away from our girl. We told you what would happen to you if you didn’t. Who the fuck do you think you’re messing with?”

Cas is on the ground on top of Peter, his fists flying mercilessly. Confusion rises within me as I watch Cas unloading on the guy. He has no issues with violence. Of the three of us, he thrives on it the most, but this is out of control for him.

Cas likes to make a production before he kills someone, much like a serial killer. He sets the scene, makes a few jokes, and uses creative methods to inflict torture. But this is raw, pure emotion projected into his violence. This isn’t about a job or revenge. The violence within Cas is solely about his feelings. Cas cares about little, except Lorne and me. Growing up the way he did, he’s only ever wanted a family—something the two of us share in a diverse, twisted way.

My gaze moves to the bed and the vision lying on top of a cum-stained comforter. A manifestation formed by the devil to smite me and cast me straight to the depths of hell. My own personal Eve.

I hear her voice again, like an unwanted message played on repeat.

But each person is tempted when lured and enticed by desire. Desire, when conceived, gives birth to sin, and sin, when fully grown, brings forth death.

“Cas, stop. We’ve got other shit to deal with,” Lorne says.

His voice is a little too cold, a little too low, too calm. Lorne is the opposite of Cas. He’s just as crazy, but his derangement comes from a different place.

Cas doesn’t give a fuck and will do whatever he wants when he wants. His actions are based on his hedonistic needs and enjoyment.

Lorne is calculated. Every move he makes is methodically thought out and planned. I fall somewhere in the middle, unable to control my needs and desires. Regretful of my choices after I make them, to where my brain is bludgeoned with a monsoon of remorse. Yet I never learn from my mistakes and commit the same ones over and over again. That’s my purgatory.

“Who’s the girl?” I ask, unconcerned about Cas’s homicidal tendencies on Peter and Lorne’s desire to make it end. All I can focus on is the dark-haired raven with crimson lips and a body designed by the devil himself to entice the most pious of men.

She’s wearing a short black dress that’s risen to the bottom of her pussy. Her thick, shapely thighs are slightly parted, giving me a perfect view of her virginal white cotton panties. I’m convinced she’s a jezebel because she’s done something a girl has never done. She’s made my mouth water and my cock throb with need.

“Someone Peter shouldn’t have messed with,” Lorne says, snapping me out of the trance she put me in. Lorne hauls Cas off Peter and places his hands on the sides of his face. “You can’t kill him yet.”

“What do you mean, yet?” Peter slurs. Cas must have broken his Jaw. “I’m pressing charges. He’s an animal. He should be locked up.”

Lorne turns on Peter, his movements quick and lethal as he slams him against the wall by his throat. “You fucking fool. Do you know who I am? You think Cas is an animal? I’m the king of the jungle who controls all the beasts, little boy. Imagine what I can do to you with the snap of my fingers. Now, here’s what you’re gonna do. You’re going to run along and tell your daddy some random person mugged you. You couldn’t make out a face since he was wearing a mask. Then you’ll go to bed and rock your stupid ass to sleep. Once you are asleep, you’ll have nightmares, and it’ll be my face you see. Do you understand me?”

Peter nods as wetness forms at his crotch and a stream of piss puddles on the floor. “Yes. Yes.”

Lorne releases him. “Clean up your mess before you go.”

Lorne laughs as Peter looks at him in confusion. “You’re not my puppy, Peter, and you certainly aren’t the little dog of the owner of this disgusting room. You made a mess, so it’s only appropriate for you to clean it.

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Let me get a cloth.”

Lorne laughs. “Why, Peter? You have a perfectly good tongue. Get to work.”

Peter falls to his knees, his hands on either side of the puddle of urine. He stares up at Lorne in a final silent plea, begging him not to have to go through with such a humiliating act.

Lorne shakes his head. “There’s no forgiveness here, only damnation.”

Peter’s pink tongue falls out, and the first licks of urine glide from the floor into his mouth.

Lorne kicks his foot underneath Peter’s chin, directing his head. “Think you missed a spot, Peter. All of it.”

Peter gags as he cleans up the rest of his piss from a floor that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned for the past year.

A snicker. My eyes land back on Cas. He’s holding a joint and leaning against the door frame, smirking like a Cheshire cat while he witnesses Peter’s humiliation. I know this isn’t the end of it.

“Good boy, Peter,” Lorne says in a condescending tone, like a grandmother speaking to her little dog. “Now, get the fuck out of here.”

“I get to kill him, right,” Cas asks as he blows out circles, creating a smoky haze in the room.

“Follow him. Make sure he does as he’s told.”

Cas stomps his feet. “I get to kill him, right?”

“Yes, Cas, you get to kill him. I just wanna make sure you’re not stupid about it.”

My gaze shifts back to the curvaceous beauty. “What are we gonna do with her?”

Lorne sighs as he lights a cigarette and approaches the temptress. The red ember from the tip of his cigarette glows like a flame as he takes a drag and glides one finger along the sleeping girl’s lips. “We’re gonna get her out of our system.”