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“My tortures are just that, Sage. Mine. If I wanted to hurt you, I could have. If I wanted to mark you, I would have.”
“Then why did he do it?” She cries this time. She’s breaking me. She’s fucking breaking me down, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
“He was jealous of you. Since we were kids, we are all the other had. We grew up together, trained together, and learned how to be monsters together. You have to understand when I brought you here, that changed things, Sage. Maybe I was fucked up to do it. Maybe I was the selfish one here.” Now Sage sits up and moves up next to me.
“You aren’t selfish for taking what you want, Ares.”
“Look what he did to you, Little Lamb. Look at your face.” She reaches up her hand and runs her fingers over the mess on her cheek.
“Who did it to you?”
“My father. He said a true warrior has battle scars. Although my father claims it was my mother, I only remember it being him. A true warrior wears them with pride. What we do to those women, he did to me,” I tell her. “It was his way of teaching me, but he always blamed my mother. I try to remember back then; I really do. I try to remember if she hurt me or hit me, but I come up blank,” I admit to her.
“Do you think she did it?”
“No.”
“Then why do it for him?”
“I didn’t know why I was doing it until recently,” I confess, telling her exactly what Andrea said to me. I tell her everything. We sit and talk for hours when I hear the thunder.
“Come with me,” I tell her. She nods her head as I climb off the bed and wait for her. I offer my hand, and she takes it as I lead her up the steps.
“Are you sure this is safe?”
“I have a privacy fence. We’re only going on the porch,” I reassure her. We walk up the steps and out the back door, where I sit on the bench and pull her down next to me. I look up at the sky just as the rain starts to fall. I close my eyes and let the rain hit my flesh when Sage speaks.
“Pluviophile.” I turn my head to look at her now.
“What?”
“It means a lover of storms.”
“And how do you know I love storms?” I ask her.
“There’s always a storm brewing in your eyes, Ares. There has been since the day I met you. I can see how happy a storm makes you,” she says.
“Happy? I don’t think I’m happy.”
“You are. I can see it in your eyes.”
“What else can you see?”
“There’s a mask you keep in place. One that was placed there long ago. You don’t think you can love or be loved. You don’t really know what love is, but you feel strongly. So strongly, it eats away at your insides. It devours you whole.” I stare into her eyes even as the rain comes down harder.
“How do you see all that?”
“You let me see it, Ares.”
“Things are going to get bad, Sage. So much worse than they already are.”
“I know that.” I lean in closer, our breath mingling as one. There’s something else bothering me. Something more, and I can’t pinpoint it.
“I killed for you. I killed my best friend for you,” I tell her truthfully. I reach into my pocket and pull the knife I picked up off the floor before coming out here. I grab Sage’s hand in mine and place it palm-side up.
“You’re never going to leave me, Sage. Do you understand?” She nods, but I shake mine. “No. I need to hear the words.”
“I’m never leaving you, Ares.” With that, I press the tip of the knife against her palm and pull the blade along her flesh until I see the blood mix with the rain. Then, I flip my hand over and do the same before grasping our hands together.
