Sinners 01 - Branded (25 page)

She went to her neighbor and told her what was happening. Of course they called her
a lying whore—a dramatic young girl screaming for attention because she lost her real
father. The neighbor must’ve told the stepfather because her life changed forever
that night. He came home early from work, drugged her mother as he always did, and
yelled for the girl to come at the top of his lungs. When she didn’t, he went searching
for her and when he found her… he immediately tied her hands behind her back, tied
her ankles tight together, and cut off all her clothing. He then picked her up and
carried her to a room she never knew existed. It was the size of a small walk-in closet,
enclosed by a cement floor, ceiling, and walls.

He dropped her body to the floor and peed on her face—leaving a small flashlight shining
in the back right corner so she would see what was coming next. Three boxes sat in
the corner and he cut the ties off the tops before sealing the door shut.

Now it was just her, a flashlight, urine-soaked hair, and three boxes. She screamed
in horror as the first box exploded with a wave of tiny black spiders and the second
with silver dollar-sized siders… The third box released spiders the size of her fist.
The girl was deathly afraid of spiders and he knew it.

She had nowhere to go and no way to get them off as they covered her body like a blanket.
She flung around as much has she possibly could, but they covered every inch of her
flesh, entering every opening of her body. She felt them in her ear, in her nose,
and if she screamed, they filled her mouth. She flailed herself around and slammed
her head onto the concrete floor, praying she would crack open her skull. But nothing
worked. When they went down her throat, she gagged and started vomiting profusely.
When the light burnt out, all she could hear were the spiders scuttling in and out
of her, all around her. When she worked up enough strength, somehow she managed to
roll her body from one wall to the other. She kept going, despite the wet mush that
seeped from their hairy flesh as she squashed them underneath her. Eventually they
started eating each other, and she could manage the few left crawling on her.

She doesn’t remember coming and going from the room. She assumed he was drugging her
as well, but not enough that she wouldn’t be aware of her next form of torture.

One time it was a dead cat. His intestines looked like blown-up sausages protruding
from his mangled gut, only to be joined by hundreds of flies. He cranked up the heat
and the stench of rotten flesh caused her to vomit over and over. All she could do
was close her eyes even though she wanted to rip the flesh from her own body and die
along with the cat. She was going insane; she was sure of it—hearing voices and seeing
things she wasn’t sure were real. She was saturated in her own urine, feces, and vomit
for weeks without anyone noticing she was gone.

Her stepfather told everyone he had sent her to boarding school, so of course nobody
asked questions. She wished and prayed every day she’d die. But death never came…

The night before she was arrested, her stepfather forgot to drug her mother. She came
into the girl’s room and found him lying there holding her. (He’d do this when he
went from man number three back to man number two.) He’d take the girl out of the
room, clean her up, and bring her back to good health.

Of course her mother was furious. The girl thought her mother would finally believe
her. Instead, the mother slapped the girl across the face, screaming at the top of
her lungs, “YOU’RE A SELFISH WHORE!” That’s when the girl knew she had lost her mother
forever.

Her mother believed him, of course. He told her that the girl begged him into bed.
All lies. He wrestled the mother out of the girl’s room and then it was quiet. The
next night in a moment of freedom, she decided to hang herself. She was just about
to take her life when she noticed the ring her father had given her. She hesitated
when she read the inscription and then heard the guards coming for her.

She ran because he would’ve wanted her to try, but she knew they’d catch her eventually.
However, nothing remained for her anymore. The only thing she cared about was getting
away from him. So in her mind, she was running from him. The Hole had to be better
than the hell she was already living in.

You know this girl, Cole. And she loves you.

My stepfather murdered the girl I once was, and he was so damn proud of it. All I
wanted was to die and I was too pathetic and weak to even accomplish such an easy
goal.

I hate the skin I live in. I cringe at my reflection and vomit at every sight and
smell that reminds me of those days. (I hope that’s a good enough excuse for my puking
issue.)

And now I’m here with you and all of a sudden my life makes sense again. The way you
look at me makes me feel human—not a lifeless soul trapped in my own skin. So I thank
you from the bottom of my heart for saving me, reviving me, caring for me, but most
of all, for being my friend. I’m a train wreck—I know this—but with you by my side,
I’m starting to mend.

So please, don’t give up on me. I need you to remind me every day who I really am
and what I can become. If you can find it in your heart to love me, then please don’t
run away. Promise me you’ll stay. Even though we can’t ever be together, promise me
you’ll stay.

I never knew what it felt like to be in love, and I never wanted to until I fell in
love with you.

I love you,

Lexi

P.S. Deep down I know you’d never choose to hurt me, so if you see Keegan, please
tell him I love him.

Just thinking about his response makes my hands shake as I pull on my new clothes.
I can only hope and pray he doesn’t hate me.

Day Five. Victims of street violence line the dim hallways of the hospital. The air
is choked with blood, vomit, and humidity. Nurses struggle to pull bodies out of the
hall and into a pile while guards patrol each room, looking for instigators. Their
dark presence makes me feel as if there’s an anchor in my stomach, weighting me to
the floor. I keep my eyes downcast and stay busy with my hands.

Patients die so fast we can’t keep up, so the nurses develop a method of deciding
who’s most likely to live and then mark them with a pen. The marked patients are sent
to the eighth floor and the others are left to die. Nightmares of their ragged, desperate
faces envelop me at night.

Day Six. I’m losing my mind. He said he’d be gone a full week, which means he should
be home tomorrow. I don’t think I can wait any longer even though my insides shake
with the anxiety of his possible response.
Did he read it? Does he think I’m disgusting? Weak? I wish I could read his mind.

“I’ve been calling you. They needed you in room three about twenty minutes ago,” Bertha
commands.

I drop the basket of sheets on the floor with a thump and sprint to the room. Five
people with gruesome injuries are shoved into the small candlelit space. Only one
of them lies in a bed and the others rest, moaning, on the floor.

“I need you to clean up this putrid mess!” Amber points to the body lying closest
to the wall, a man who obviously wet himself. A putrid yellow puddle forms around
his body, but since he’s unconscious, he doesn’t know.

But without fail, my stomach lurches, and I swallow it back. “It would be my pleasure,”
I say.

She laughs at me in the snide manner that suits her so well. “I’m sure he doesn’t
miss you one bit. He never could keep his pants on.” She tosses me a napkin and leaves.

A passionate, angry retort bubbles up within me, but I refuse to give in to her rude
behavior. I unfold the napkin and throw it on the urine, watching it soak up. Then
I grab a sheet and start scrubbing while holding my breath so I don’t puke on this
poor man. I try to push his body aside to clean under him, but he’s too heavy and
he just moans.

Three guards slam through the door and swarm the man I’m cleaning. They shove me out
of the way as Bruno enters behind them. Their eyes narrow into slits and their mouths
pull down at the corners.

“Leave,” Bruno whispers in my ear.

“What?” I ask.

One of the guards pulls out his pistol, pushes it against the man’s temple, and executes
him—right there on the floor. A scream catches in my throat as Bruno shields me. They
stomp heavily out and leave his body lying there in a mix of crimson blood and urine.

As soon as they pass, I crumble on the floor, gasping for air. My ears ring with the
explosive sound of the gun. The image of the patient’s body, the bodies in the street,
and Claire on the platform bleeding her life away grasp at every thread of sanity
I own.

“It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay,” Bruno says. He kneels down next to me.

It’ll never be okay as long as I’m here.
I want to scream at him.

“It’s seven. Let’s go… but first you need to snap out of it so we can walk out of
here. I’m not carrying your ass.” He pulls me up and brushes me off with worry etched
on his face. His large eyes give nothing away, but I sense anger. I wonder if he’s
as bothered as I am over the deaths of innocent people.

Straightening my back and wiping my face, I enter the hallway. Amber stands at the
nurse’s station, flirting with Zane. She didn’t need me to clean the room; she just
wanted to humiliate me. The way she smiles and flips her hair makes me want to go
psycho and overturn the huge desk in front of her. I seethe under my skin and give
her the nastiest look I can muster.

Bruno walks beside me and we ride silently in the elevator.

I stumble through the parking lot, unaware of my surroundings while deep in thought.

“Someone’s back early,” Bruno says.

Our eyes meet and it feels like time freezes. The ball cap Cole’s wearing doesn’t
hide his bloodshot, pained eyes as he motions for us to get in. My stomach drops.
He’s leaving me. I know it now.
My heart shatters within me and it takes all my strength to climb in and secure myself.
I’ll never survive this… never breathe again without him.

As soon as we clear the guard checkpoint, he peels out into the streets. The sun’s
falling behind the walls and the moon begins to show its full white face. The heavy
moisture in the air is as thick here as in the hospital.

We travel in silence. Only Zeus’s subdued kisses distract me from my inner turmoil.
I gave him my heart when I wrote that letter.
I was such a fool to imagine we could’ve had anything… such an idiot for thinking
he’d accept me for the battered girl I am.

Not once does he glance in his rearview to look or even speak to me. But I stare at
him. His jaw clenches and his knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
Oh God, he probably doesn’t want to tell me he caught Keegan.
My hands ball into fists.
Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.

Cole parks the Jeep in the garage and Bruno gives him a sympathetic look before leaving.

I dread the silence as he leads me to our building. The fence still leans into the
street, looking warped from the pressure of the crowd this morning. The heavy metal
tanks park along the curb, and the makeshift checkpoint is thriving as people go back
to their quarters. A crude area has been set up to load bodies from the explosion
and some of the citizens add more to the pile. A large lantern grossly lights them.
The sun disappears, leaving darkness except for the lights the guards carry and the
red burning of cigarettes.

Zeus nudges the back of my knee, pushing me along. The little energy I have left drags
my corpse up the stairs and into his room, ready for Cole to say he’s done with me.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he runs his hand down my face, wiping the tears as they pour down my cheeks.
Looking into his face, I sense his anger, yet I see compassion in his eyes. The way
he cradles my face with his hands and kisses the top of my head only confuses me.

“Did—did you find Keegan?” I ask. I can’t stand here until I know the truth.

“I did…”

“Oh God!” I pull his hand away from my face and looking down.

“I couldn’t do it.” His husky voice belies his feelings, and I glance up with hope.

“Wait, you found him and you didn’t arrest him?” I can’t let it go until I know Keegan’s
safe, regardless of his offense.

He sighs, looking frustrated, and then puts his hands on his head. “I wasn’t strong
enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“I knew where he was hiding, but all I could think about was how much I’d hurt you
if I turned him in.”

Three knocks on the door cause us both to jump. I step back and wipe my eyes as Cole
opens the door.

“Seriously, what the hell do you want?” Cole asks.

I peek around Cole and see Crazy Bill drunk as a skunk, leaning on the doorframe and
staring at Cole.

“You’re definitely not Melinda,” Crazy Bill says. “I thought this place looked different.”

Cole shakes his head and grunts. “You’re something else, you know that? Let me show
you to the exit.” He looks back at me and rolls his eyes. “Be right back.”

“Okay,” I say.

The suspense is killing me. I try to find my bearings as I wait for him to return
and continue our conversation. I need to know what happened to Keegan.
Did my stepfather make him leave or did he leave of his own accord?
I need Cole to reassure me that everything will be okay, but I’m afraid he’ll reject
me… even though he should. I shuffle backward until my back finds the wall for support,
glancing at the ceiling as tears overflow from my eyes.

Cole returns, opening the door carefully, as if he’s afraid to disturb me. “Tell me.
What do you need me to do?”