Beautiful Savage - Caroline Peckham Page 0,47

more than once, if for no other reason than to hear my own voice. To remind myself that I existed in a real, tangible way rather than just being some ghost of two men and the entirety of neither.

This was mine, my music was something which hadn’t been touched by anyone aside from me. The things I liked to listen to, the songs I liked to play and sing, they were a part of me that hadn’t been tainted. And I liked to focus on the simple things like that whenever I needed reminding that I was more than just all of the things I’d been destined to become. That I was my own man. And of course Giuseppe and the Romeros and even Sloan had shaped me in some ways. But deep down at my core, I owned my own fate. The girl I’d promised to marry had never been meant for me and though it had taken a little while for me to come to terms with that, I’d realised that I was relieved by that fact. I’d known that I was destined to be hers for so long that I’d never even let myself consider the fact that I could be someone else’s. Someone I chose, who suited me better. Who might even love me. Though of course, I really needed to figure out who I was before I could have any real hope of that coming to pass.

I grabbed my guitar and laid it over my lap, slowly strumming the strings as I let a song come together. At first I just let the guitar speak and then I found myself humming along in places, the murmured words of the song falling from my lips not long after. My voice was all grit and rough edges, but I’d only ever played for myself so I wasn’t too concerned about expanding my range. I sang from the base of my soul, releasing the broken pieces of me that festered there and hunting down the lost fragments of my being which I’d never really known.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed as my voice trailed from song to song, my fingers growing cold as I played while I ignored the bite of the frost and carried on. When the door cracked open and Winter slipped out, I paused for a moment, offering her a soft smile before I continued.

She’d wrapped a comforter around her like a cape, pulling it up over her head so that her red hair was covered as if she were wearing a hood. She padded towards me on bare feet which pressed into the dusting of snow that had blown beneath the roof covering the porch, leaving footprints as she closed in on me.

I couldn’t help but watch her as she moved to sit beside me, curling herself up on the swinging bench and tightening the comforter around her shoulders as she listened to me play.

I’d never had an audience before her, but something about the soft smile on Winter’s lips made me push to keep strumming music from the guitar for her as my voice rolled over the notes of the song I was playing.

“Down by the river, I met a girl, whose soul was twisted moonlight and whose name I didn’t know. She told me one day, I’d find my way and maybe I could meet her when the moon was high again…”

Winter shifted closer to me, her small frame leaning against mine as she rested her head on my shoulder and I continued to play.

When the song finished, I placed the guitar down and leaned back in my seat, placing my arm along the back of the chair and trying not to smirk like a fucking idiot when she shifted into the curve of my body.

“You know,” I began slowly, the utter quiet of the snowy night making my voice sound loud even though it was little more than a murmur. “It’s alright if killing him made you feel things aside from relief. It’s okay if you’re freaking out, or-”

Winter placed her palm flat against my chest and pushed back so that she could look at me, the comforter slipping off of her head and her red hair spilling loose around her shoulders. Fuck, she really was something to look at.

She shook her head firmly and I smiled a little.

“I’m just saying, the first time you kill someone can be-”

She released a frustrated huff and rolled her eyes at me.

“What do

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