Confessions of a Killer

11 Lack of Control

Charlotte:

Jax ended up chasing after her, it took a little while for him to calm down before he paced his way to the woods. Nodding at Damien before leaving. Damien grinned at me. Face slightly grimy but handsome as ever. 'See.' He'd thought. I rolled my eyes, heart unclenching.

She's my friend. Jax is precious to me too. I want them happy.

The time it took to finish piling the bodies is filled with verbal silence. The occasional grunt of effort made itself clear. The sounds of shovels shifting in the dirt and birds chirping rang through the air. From outside, the chatter inside the warehouse is virtually nonexistent.

The sunshine made the scene seem grotesque, unreal. As if a B rated slasher film had dumped all its props in the middle of nowhere. Blood is everywhere, coating the dirt and the rocks in patterns that could have been mistaken for a Jackson Pollock. Yeah, that bad.

The grime from the flamethrower made the situation look even worse. Heath has taken it upon himself to finish the job after we'd finished with the gruesome pile.

I stood there. Fascinated. The flames leaping out of the hose-like contraption in a blaze of glory. That's how I perceived it at least.

Ava came to stand beside me. At first looking miffed that I was watching her mate before realizing it was the other very hot thing that had captured my attention so astutely.

Damien chuckled behind me. Wrapping his arms around me.

The flashback came quickly. Hitting me in the solar plexus with the force of a nine iron in the hands of a pro.

I doubled over as the memory of that night ripped through me. Damiens hands keeping me from face planting as tears streak down my face and a sob bursts from my lips.

Aug, Cam, Chris, Jami...

Fuuuucck.

Voices around me call out distantly as if I'm stuck in a fog. I've been in so many lately. Emotional cacophony the new normal as my thoughts race.

What kind of race isn't certain. NASCAR wouldn't accept it. There are too many twists, too many turns versus the always predictable 'left turn'.

Maybe it's a rat race. One where the rats are on cocaine and the track is actually a maze of sorts, walls unbreakable unless you stick more dynamite under the people you're closes-!

I can feel Damiens arms wrap around me. My cheek pressed into his shoulder as I cry. I can feel another set of hands on my back, smaller than Damiens, colder.

The sensation has me stop. Looking back at Ava's sorrow filled eyes, I can't help but feel pacified. As if, The storm of emotion in me is calming, from a tsunami to the gentle lull of tiny waves washing up on to the beach.

I close my eyes and lean into Damien. Seeking the comfort I don't feel like I deserve.

"You should teach me how to do that." Damien stated, a laugh filling his voice. I know he's worried though. I can feel it in the way he's holding me. Worried he can't help me when the time comes. I fully believe he could. He has before. Ava is just... quicker.

"My mates got ta hands of an enchantress." I heard Heath behind me, felt through Ava the force he pushed through. "I know a thing or two about losing yer shit kiddo."

I turned to look at him. Expression unfathomable as he towered over us. He nodded. That male nod that men do to acknowledge one another.

To be a recipient of the nod from this man... means a lot.