Page 77 of Steel Rain

“I … I … I …” she mocked with a cruel smile. Another strike and his arm went limp, as he whimpered. Another punch, and his whimper turned into a long, annoying, whine. It was the sound of weakness as hope drained form him, along with his blood.

“As if you haven’t done enough.” She took her heavy boot, lifted it over his chest, and in one strong movement, stomped on his sternum. I heard ribs crack, the air draining from his lungs as her boot print collapsed his chest.

He wheezed as he struggled for air, his chest barely rising. He was on the brink of death.

“The world is better off without people like you.” She walked around him as his eyes bulged from their sockets, as his body clung on to life. As his air slowly constricted. As his brain struggled to keep a supply of oxygen. “And you don’t deserve a quick death.”

She turned to me, then Eoghan, and Dairo who stared at her handiwork with small, approving nods.

“Where would you bury him?” she asked.

“I was thinking by the creek,” Eoghan casually admitted. “Near his two friends.”

“Let’s take him now,” she said, her hands on her hips as she pursed her lips. “I think he deserves to watch as I dig his grave.”

She looked up and smiled in satisfaction.

“I want to see his eyes as I throw dirt over him.”

Chapter 37

Sin

Ipluckedayellowrose of friendship from Isla Green’s garden and wore it behind my ear as I dug his shallow grave. The boys were there, mainly to watch Keith as I did my work. I wouldn’t let them help.

I was too … wired. It hid the pain, my blood coursing. I was possessed. Insane. In my madness and hatred, I became strong.

Oh, IknewI would pay for it, when the adrenaline wore off. I’d feel every shovel, and every strain a thousand times once the high was gone. I just didn’t care.

His eyes were terrified as they followed the movement of my shovel as I pierced into the dirt, kicked it deep with my shoe, then tossed the dirt to the side. The sound of it was rhythmic and pleasant.

Swing. Kick. Throw.Over and over again.

His breaths matched the rhythm, and eventually, we came to a temporary peace. His collapsed chest didn’t give him enough air to do anything. He was getting puffy from the lack of oxygen, his lips turning a fun shade of purple. The boys had tied his hands and feet together, but those were just decorative.

As Dairo said, “it makes him easier to carry.”

When the hole was big enough, I kicked him into it.

He rolled, helplessly, into the grave, his hands and legs limp beside him. He wasjustconscious enough to know what was happening, but not enough to do anything about it.

He wheezed. His little breaths were jagged and pained. His mouth kept opening and closing, like a sad little goldfish. I refused to let him die before I was done burying him.

Sadism. That’s what was in my blood. Complete and utter sadism.

I took the yellow rose from my ear and brought it to my nose.

Roses always had the faint smell of black tea. It wasn’t unpleasant. It just reminded me of Isla Green and her gentle hands. I remembered her long, elegant fingers, as she could lead a brush over a canvas with such grace. I had adored her.

Shewas a princess. A shiny, beautiful princess in flowing gowns, and a soft, beautiful voice. I had wanted to be just like her.

Sure, I didn’t quite have her in the looks department, but she always told me that elegance came from the inside. I had believed every single word!

She was adored by me, by her husband … Old Mr. Green had doted on her. His sun rose and fell by her smile. I had wanted that. I had thought that Keith would give me that. He had acted so gentle towards me when we were engaged.

He had done and said the right things, and I had fallen for it, hook, line and sinker.

I should have known that men like Keith would be this way.

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