Page 67 of Condemned Soul

“Don’t touch it.” I notice the sticky fingerprints I leave on her arm and immediately drop it from my hold.

“Jessie, I'm not afraid of this,” she tells me. Grabbing my face and forcing me to look at her. “You should know that by now.”

I don’t want her hands on me while I’m covered in another man's blood.

“I’m scared of you losing yourself,” she admits.

“It didn’t take the pain away,” I admit, freaking out, because all my life creating pain and killing has always been the answer.

“It’s okay, Jess.” She takes her body and presses it into mine, tarnishing herself with the blood of the man I just murdered and clinging to me tight.

“It’s okay,” she repeats over and over. Stroking my blood-clustered hair in her dainty, little fingers and trying her best to convince me. It should be me taking care of her, I made her that promise, and as I let her continue to comfort me I wonder how many men are gonna have to die before I get my strength back.

“Cody, did you see my purse?” Alex dumps one of the boys on my chest and he immediately starts clambering over my face and smashing the headboard against the wall.

“What time is it?” I scrub my hand over my face to wake myself up.

“It’s 8 am and Monica is meeting me down at the clubhouse to discuss the action plan.” She grabs Cohen as he races toward the door, scooping him up in her arms and dumping him in bed with me too.

“Action plan, what action plan? And how is it you know more about this than I do?” I grab a boy under each arm to hold ‘em still for just a damn minute.

“Because, unlike some people around here, I know a little about law and order.” She raises her eyebrows at me before she comes to the bed and stands in front of me. “I’ll be back in an hour.” She bends down to kiss both the boys and leaves me till last, her lips slow and seductive as they tease mine.

“You're lucky I got my hands full or you wouldn’t be makin’ it to the clubhouse,” I warn her, watching the sexy, little smile light up her face as she turns on her heels and leaves me hanging.

“I don’t suppose you guys want a lie in?” I try my luck and when I get a fist to the face as a response I drag myself outta bed and get to work.

“Guess I better feed ya.” I carry ‘em into the kitchen. Strapping both the little ferals into their highchairs so I can make us some breakfast.

“Mornin’.” Screw lets himself in just as I’m cracking some eggs and the boys’ faces light up when their uncle takes a seat at the table in between them.

“You eat?” I check, watching Casey tugging on his uncle’s beard while Screw’s focus remains on me. “Screw, I asked if you’d eaten.” I click my fingers to snap him outta whatever trance he’s in, but it doesn’t seem to work. Something’s got him troubled, I can sense it.

“What’s up?” I whisk up the eggs and wait for him to clue me in, but instead of talkin’ he just shrugs his shoulders.

“Screw, you need to tell me what’s on your mind.”

“He can’t go into prison, not on his own.” He eventually speaks up.

“I don’t like it either, but what do we do? Prez has made it clear what he wants to do and?—”

“I should do it. I ain’t got no kids.”

“You ain’t got no kids, yet,” I correct him, knowing from what Alex has told me that Lydia is getting seriously broody. “C’mon, Screw, ya know that’s not what Prez wants.”

“It’s what he needs.” My brother makes a valid point but it doesn’t change anything.

“We all feel that guilt, Screw, we all think we should be there to protect him when the time comes, but the whole reason he’s doin’ this is so we can be with our families. You can’t leave Lydia and get yourself locked up. Hell, if I tried to leave Alex to cope with these on her own she’d find a way of gettin’ in to me and kill me herself. What we have to do is find another way.”

“Yeah, well I ain’t seein’ that other way, Squeal.” He looks distant as he takes Cohen’s hand in his and stares at it real hard.

“Don’t overthink this, Screw, Prez has given his order. We just gotta make sure he don’t regret it.”

“Lydia wants a kid,” he tells me, still looking at Cohen’s hand.

“So why ya here talkin’ to me? Ya need me to tell ya how that gets done?” I laugh at him as I stop the eggs from sticking to the pan.

“I know how it’s fuckin’ done. I’m just not sure if I’m cut out to be a dad.” He shrugs.

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