prison for taking another man’s life. They tried me as an adult. I spent five years in a hell hole, Sydney.”
“No,” she whispered. I knew it. I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth when I finally gave it to her.
“His name was Carl Barrett. He was my foster father. He was a bastard. A fucking cop.”
“He abused you,” she said.
“That’s a pretty word for what he did. Yeah. He beat me. And he beat her. He took what he wanted from her and would leave her crying. Bleeding. I was the one who would put her back together. Because of who he was, he was protected.”
“Your foster mom,” Sydney said.
“Her name was Irene.”
“Torch,” she said. She tried to come closer. Tried to touch me with a tender hand now. I wouldn’t have it. I closed my hand around her fingers, almost hard enough to hurt, but then I let go.
“One night, I’d had enough. He hurt me one too many times. So I ended it.”
I curled my fists. I could see Carl’s face as I threw the first punch. He was drunk. I’d taken him off guard. If I hadn’t, I know in my heart I was the one who would have died that night.
“Over and over,” I said. “I felt the bones snap. First on his face. Then in my hands. I kept hitting.”
“You didn’t think you had a choice,” she said. “You were trying to protect her.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I said. “That’s what my lawyer finally got my parole board to believe. The club paid somebody off, though. I’m sure of it. Ace was dead by then, but Amy made sure Catman Wade, the former prez, did what Ace would have wanted.”
“Torch,” she said. “That doesn’t make you a monster. You were a kid. You were fighting for your life. For Irene’s life.”
I went still and cold. “He was alive when I tied him up,” I said. “He was begging for his life. I got kerosene out of the garage. She had an old-fashioned lamp. I told her to leave. I told her to go over to her sister’s. Irene didn’t know Carl was tied up in the bedroom.”
“Torch …”
“No,” I said. “You need to know what I am. First, I set his feet on fire. When he stopped screaming, I put it out. Then I burned his hands. I told him he’d never be able to use them to hurt anyone else again. I meant for him to live. I didn’t care what happened to me. I knew I was already lost. But she’d be safe.”
“Oh Torch,” she said. “Tell me your name. I don’t want to call you that anymore.”
She got it now. At least, she thought she did.
I locked my gaze with her. “Torch is who I am. Catman gave me the nickname, and I kept it because it is who I am. I would have kept going. But I looked away for one second. Some of the kerosene spilled. Do you know what burning flesh smells like?”
“Stop. I don’t want to hear anymore,” she said.
There it was. The fear in her eyes. The contempt.
“The drapes caught fire. It burned out of control so fast. I tried to put it out, but it was too late. He begged for my help. You know, I almost pulled him out. It went through my mind. But then I let him burn and walked away. I didn’t even feel it on me. I didn’t know I was burning too. That’s how far gone I was. I’d made it almost a block before a neighbor came out screaming. He threw me to the ground and put out the fire. He saved my life, I think. He should have stayed inside.”
“Tell me your name,” she said.
“Thomas Anthony,” I said. “Google it. I told you. They tried me as an adult. It’s not sealed.”
“Thomas,” she whispered.
Irene had been the last person to ever call me that. It hurt to hear it.
“Thomas,” she said more forcefully. “It wasn’t you. You did what you had to do to survive. You probably saved Irene’s life.”
I smiled. I tilted my head. “She came back to check on me. I think she knew there was something different about my voice when I told her to leave. They found her body melted to Carl’s.”
Tears spilled down Sydney’s face. She took a step back and covered her mouth. Now she could only see the monster. She shook her head, no.
“Walk away,” I said, my