Unleashing Sin - A. M. Wilson Page 0,14
my real name. I’m not that girl anymore either, though, you know? I’m sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. I mean, it’s really nice of you to help me. I thought, maybe, you’d want to know.”
“Pick a different one.”
“I’m sorry?” Her brows furrow in confusion.
“Your name. You’re free now. Pick a new one.”
“Oh, right. I’ll have to think of something.”
The gauze is rough beneath my thumb as I slap it over her palms and tape it down. Then I shove the kit back under the sink. The slamming cabinet door startles her.
“Get in the kitchen and make yourself some decent food. You’re a fucking skeleton.”
With that parting shot, I leave her standing in the bathroom. Her shocked stillness follows me out the door.
I don’t know if she follows or listened to my insult. I storm straight from the bathroom, grab my leather jacket, and hop on my bike, all the while ignoring the feeling in my chest and the mess left on the kitchen floor.
I need to get my father’s bar open and running again. Priorities first. Dealing with the stray is not even on my fucking list.
I make it to the bar fine in my reckless state. Get the door open, call in a few staff, and the regulars start trickling in.
Business as usual. Who gives a fuck my pop died? So long as they have their alcohol and a place to plant their asses to drown out their own problems.
After that, it’s all a blur. The bottle of liquor on my father’s desk might be to blame. The image of that girl's face and torn-up flesh swirling like a kaleidoscope in my mind might be too.
Or maybe it’s because I’m a lowlife piece of shit.
Black consumes me, and I welcome the darkness.
Chapter Four
Sin
What in the fuck is that noise?
A loud trill sounds again, reverberating around my skull like a tiny fucking jackhammer. I groan. Lifting my head from the black leather couch, I wipe the puddle of drool with the hem of my shirt.
My mouth feels like I was sucking on cotton balls all damn night. With more effort than I care to exert, I push myself from the couch and stumble to the bathroom. The auto light flicks on, blinding the hell out of me.
And that goddamn ringing won’t stop.
Turning the cold water as high as it can go, I cup my hands and drink greedily. After I’ve had my fill—enough to take away the thirst but not enough to make me puke—I splash some coolness on my face to wake up.
Way to go, fucker. You’ve done a great job running from your problems this time. How many more times do you think Elias will put up with your stupid ass before he realizes your friendship and the risk to his life aren’t worth it?
That sound, the sound of my motherfucking phone ringing, goes off again. With speed no faster than a tortoise, I stumble to my father’s desk.
“’Lo,” I answer in a deep, gruff voice.
The line is silent for a beat.
“I said hello?” I grind out between clenched teeth.
“Hang on. I’m trying to talk myself out of fucking killing you.” Elias, again. Probably calling to chew my ass out like my fucking grandmother.
“Yeah? Well, my hangover says go the fuck away.”
“Your dad’s house blew up last night. Completely demolished. There’s nothing left. Not even enough to tell Richard if your piece of shit body was inside.”
My stomach hollows as if I’ve been carved out from the inside. “What’d you say?” The sound of my voice is unrecognizable. The scratch from earlier has eroded into nothing more than a whisper.
“I said—ˮ
“THE FUCK DID YOU SAY?”
Elias sighs. “I’m so sorry, brother.”
“No,” I groan in agony. So many things. So many memories lost in an instant. Another thing touched by me taken down.
Molly.
Everything about her. Every picture. Every item that belonged to her. All of her was in that house.
My body clutches in agony. The pain is nearly as bad as the day she went missing and every day that’s followed.
“Come back to my place. I can help you get things straightened out. Insurance claims. Your dad’s financials. My dad has some colleagues. I’m sure he can get you in touch with a good attorney.”
Every breath of air burns as if I’m inhaling the flames of a campfire. “You can’t. Stay out of my shit.”
“Sin—ˮ
“You’re busy with that girl you brought home. Take care of her and mind your own goddamn business.”
I tap the end