Page 84 of In the Light of Sin

His thumb caressed my cheek, lips pressing against my forehead. It was so out of character for him, but him putting my comfort above his made me cling to him harder. “Baby, if you don’t see it, nobody will.”

“I don’t think I would make it in Heaven without you.”

“I’m not goin’ there.”

He was so convinced he wasn’t. But wasn’t that the point of atoning for their past sins? To go to a better place once they die? “If you’re not going to Heaven, then why are you trying to mend your past mistakes?”

His eye glossed over. “You can’t mend a dead past.”

My eyebrows scrunched, “But—“

“Shh,” he shushed me, hand going to the nape of my neck to push me back into his chest. He didn’t want this conversation turned on him. He was here for me and my comfort. He knew I would take on any demons he told me about, and right now, we were too busy fighting mine.

“I want to be wherever you are,” I whispered against his chest. I couldn’t do life without him. Not now. Not ever.

“You will be.” He began to stroke my hair, my eyes growing heavy from exhaustion. “You can’t escape from the ones that haunt you, Joslyn.”

The shadows of the past always lurked, striking when he least suspected it. “I’m not as strong as you are.”

“You’re stronger.” It was a hushed confession, one he vehemently believed but one I profusely denied. Here I was, coming undone at the sight of my demon, ready to throw in the towel to all the pretend healing I’d been doing for nine years.

“Your demons know better than to attack you.”

His face was buried in my hair, and I felt his lips curve ruefully.

“All my demons are dead.” My breath hitched as he pressed a kiss to my head, but I couldn’t focus on the sweet gesture. “And I’ll make sure all yours are dead too.”

A choked laugh escaped as I wiped my eyes, looking up at my savior. “I thought you guys were supposed to be saving your souls? Doesn’t that mean no murder?”

He pulled back, his brown eye soft as he studied me. My reddened eyes, my tear-stained cheeks. My makeup streaked down my face, but he still looked at me like I was a beautiful disaster. “I’d rather save you.”

My hand covered him, or what it could. His hands were large, full of veins. Mine were soft, delicate, and manicured to my favorite flower of the month. My head tilted to the right, farther into the pillow. Despite the overwhelming sadness consuming me, Sarge managed to pull a small smile out of me. “You’re sacrificing your place in Heaven for me?”

“I was never goin’ there.” His face was buried in my neck, trying to get as close to me as he possibly could. “But after meetin’ you? For the first time, I wish I was.”

“I don’t want to go there if you’re not.”

“You’re talkin’ crazy.” I may have been emotionally and physically exhausted, but I meant every word. I’d sacrifice an everlasting life for my finite one with Sarge.

“Go to sleep, Sunshine.” I felt myself begin to doze off. “Tomorrow is another day the sun will shine.” My eyes refused to open, but that didn’t stop my tears from soaking the pillow as my sleepy words left my lips.

“As long as you’re alive, the sun will always rise for me.”

Chapter 21: Sarge

The world and all its lost souls were fortunate that Joslyn needed me composed during her breakdown and that I cared enough about her to do so, or the world would be painted with the blood of everyone who ever even looked at her wrong last night.

My fucking girl… some motherfucker touched my fucking girl against her will and drove her to addiction to block it out. All the drunken nights she didn’t want to feel, they’d taken advantage of her vulnerable state. She could only focus on one thing, and that wasn’t herself.

I wanted to go back in time, back to when Joslyn lost herself. I would’ve picked up every piece that bastard shattered, fuck I would’ve given her my pieces if it meant she would shoot me with that smile that lit up a whole fuckin’ room. I grew addicted to them; if she wasn’t smiling, there was somethin’ wrong. And if someone caused that smile to flatten, bodies would be lowered into the ground.

Like Douglas was.

When I catch him, he is going to feel all the jagged edges he broke in her stab his skin. I collected all of them last night when the adhesive she patched herself together with came undone. I wouldn’t give her pieces back to her; they were mine.

No one would take care of her better than I would, even herself.

My hood was still down, exposing a part of myself I refused to do for anyone but her, and even then, I was struggling with it. She was falling apart, too, but I refused to let her hide it from me. I took her hearing aids out when she was dead to the world, noticing the little pale scars on her ears from wearing them continuously. I brushed my lips against them.

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