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I nod my head.
Another smile. I’m beginning to like them more than I should.
“Fine, Blue. I’ll agree to your terms. Let’s get out of here.”
Grabbing my bag, I follow along behind him, wishing like hell this will be the last time I’ll have to deal with him but somehow knowing it won’t.
Damon
Nobody ever said life is easy. We all have problems, it doesn’t matter where you’re born, who you’re born to or what you eventually make of your life if you’re lucky enough to survive.
There were times when I thought I wouldn’t survive.
Times I prayed I wouldn’t survive.
After the abuse of those weekends, I didn’t want to live with the memories of what was done to us.
It was Ezra who kept me tethered to this life.
Our bond.
The fact that I knew if I dipped out … it would only be a matter of time before he dipped out too.
Knowing him, he’d chase me into the afterlife with the single-minded intent of kicking my ass for giving up, for letting our father kill us both after we fought so hard to live.
Stepping out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my hips and catch sight of myself in the steamy mirror. I swipe away the steam then stare at my image, my eyes following the faint white lines that run across my body.
Against my olive skin, those marks stand out, not as noticeable as they used to be, the years fading them until they’re barely there.
“Let’s talk about the scars, Champ. The ones on your face and the hidden ones inside that nobody sees…”
When Blue and I first met, I wondered how she could stand so still within my storm. I didn’t want to believe that some chick dancing in a cage could see through me so clearly. I sure as hell didn’t want to accept that someone who was supposed to be an escape would call me out and point directly at my past.
She was never supposed to know.
To be part of my life.
To be wrapped up in the daily bullshit I deal with because of all the Inferno’s fathers and the way we all have been changed.
Each of our monikers—Treachery, Fraud, Violence, Heresy, Anger, Greed, Gluttony, Lust and Limbo—was a result of what our families did to us when we were young. None of us have been able to escape their grip.
Not yet, at least.
Not even Ezra and me now that our father is dead.
The only thing I can be thankful for is that Ezra will never have to bear the scar of killing our father. I wear that one alone. But then, I’ve always worn more than him.
Allowing the steam to build on the mirror so my image blurs, I shake my head at how thoroughly I’ve fucked everything up.
My escape became part of my life.
Maybe I’m not meant to get away.
Maybe I’ll always be shackled to my past.
And judging by the scars I see in Blue, she’s shackled just like me.
Stepping into my room, I think about our conversation last night when I drove her home. She grilled me about Shane’s thing with Brinley, then demanded the story about the flash drive stolen from Luca’s father.
