Page 6 of Blood and Redemption

He’s keeping her away from anything filthy. From men likeme.

“Don’t worry. She’ll get one look at me, and she’ll run. They always do.” Muttering the lie, I move to stand. Patting my pockets, I scowl when my lighter and cigarettes are gone. Invitation is too, not like it matters. I’ve got that shit burned into my brain.

“Detox,” Ren tells me as he watches me. “Not just from the booze. From everything. I’ll keep an eye on your territory and make sure no one oversteps. In the meantime…” He sighs. “Take a shower and get cleaned up. You look terrible. I don’t want you making her uncomfortable.”

If Ren weren’t my best friend, I wouldn’t put up with how much he’s been insulting me as of late. For now, I’ll put up with it.

I don’t know how long he thinks I’ll need to stay. As someone who has dirtied his hands in the same filth as I have, he should know there is no fixing men like us. We’re already long past our redemption point.

Until he gives up, I’ll humor him for a couple of days. By then, even Renato will be ready to throw me out.

* * *

The shower’s steam clings to the mirror like a coward, refusing to fully reveal me. But I don’t need clarity—I know this face like a scar.

I lean closer, squinting to see the fine details.

The man in the glass is a grotesque parody of who I should be. Dark circles bruise my eyes like I’ve been fighting for weeks. No,months.My stubble grows in uneven patches, as if even my body can’t commit to anything. And that mouth—twisted in permanent disgust, always on the verge of a snarl or a sob. Ready to bite any hand that tries to help.

Pathetic.

I slam my palm against the reflection, smearing the condensation. For a second, the face distorts—jaw melting, eyes bleeding into the steam—and I think,good.Let it dissolve. Let me disappear.

But then the water clears.

And I’m still here. Still alive, still breathing.

Cursing out a growl, I yank open the door containing the mirror to search for anything to help numb this pain.

Ren took me away from my one escape, so now I have to find another.

No medicine outside of cheap painkillers. Nothing stronger than Tylenol. Fuck.

Spotting the mouthwash tucked inside, I yank it out, knocking out other contents inside. Twisting off the cap, the smell of hash mint hits my nose in a heavy wave. Taking in one mouthful, I swallow.

Fire races down my throat, curls in my gut. My eyes water. My teeth ache. And for one glorious moment, the world goes soft at the edges—just how I like it.

If I drink this entire container, I won’t have to worry about my appearance or my thoughts bothering me.

Taking one more gulp, I sputter as the thought of my sisters crosses my mind. If I stay the way I am, how in the hell am I supposed to get them out of the situation I’m in?

Coughing, I drop the mouthwash and feel it splatter against my ankle.

I can’t be mad, not when I’m keeling over the toilet, tossing up not just the mouthwash, but enough stomach acid to make my throat raw.

Once my stomach is empty, and I’m forced to face these torturous feelings, I work on cleaning up my mess before Ren gets any ideas of taking away anything sharp.

Avoiding looking at the mirror, I abandon the room as soon as I can, aching to put some distance between it.

Soon, I end up in the kitchen. Even though I don’t have any cravings for food, I know I need something in my stomach. Some water would help with the hangover. Food will help bring some life back to my face.

My angel doesn’t wait to return within my reach.

The moment Ren’s shadow disappears beyond the home to go fix the disaster of the state of my territory, she’s there—not approaching, not yet, but watching. Her gaze licks over me like a flame testing kindling.

Ren’s shirt strains across my shoulders, the sleeves riding up my forearms. His sweatpants cling indecently to my thighs. I can already hear his bitching about me ruining his clothes.

But her? She doesn’t laugh. Doesn’t speak. Just studies me with those brown eyes.

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