A Sinner’s Saint (De Bellis Crime Family #4)

Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-Three

I ’m back here. He kept his word and brought me back here. I really should have known better than to think he’d change his mind. It’s been a year. Every month for a whole year, my father has made me strip naked, then shoved me into this room.

I know what happens next. They’re coming for me. Sometimes I wait for hours, others minutes. I don’t want to be here. The thought of what’s about to happen sends a fresh wave of panic through me.

I try the door handle, and to my surprise, it actually opens. He forgot to lock it. He never forgets to lock it. It has to be a trick, one of my father’s sick mind games. He did this on purpose.

Does he want me to try to escape or does he want me to stay put?

I don’t care what he wants. If I see a way out of this room, I’m leaving. I don’t look back as I start running down the hallway. I can hear their screams. The screams and cries of the other children stuck in this hellhole. I want to find a light and burn this place down. Maybe if I can get outside, figure out where we are, find the address, I can come back and set it alight.

If I did that, though, they wouldn’t get out. The other kids. They’d die in here. And it’d be my fault. Although death might be welcomed. If it came for me, I’d open my arms and let it take me away.

I manage to get to a door that I hope leads to outside. My palm touches the handle, and then I’m yanked back.

“You got farther than I gave you credit, boy,” a deep voice whispers as an arm wraps around my waist and my back is pressed up against a man’s chest. “Run, little boy, run. I like to chase.” He drops his arm and I quickly turn around, but there’s no one there. I’m alone.

Turning back to the door, I open it and I run. The sticks and stones dig into the soles of my feet, but I don’t stop. I reach the edge of the backyard that leads into the bordering bush. Without thought, I run between the trees, my pace slowing down as I navigate over fallen tree trunks, huge rocks, and whatever else is scattered around the dirt.

My chest burns, but I can’t stop. I need to keep going. Just when I think I’ve run far enough, I collide into a tree. My chest scratches against the bark, and a heavy—a very heavy—palm pushes against my back.

“I told you I like it when you run. And you delivered. I knew you would. Now tell me, boy, is this tight little ass of yours going to deliver too? Is it going to choke my cock good?” the deep voice hisses in my ear as those same heavy hands spread my ass cheeks apart.

I sit up in bed while a scream tears through my lungs. My chest heaves as I try to get my bearings. I’m at home. I’m not there. I’m not there. I look around my bedroom, at all the familiar things. This is my space. I’m okay.

Spotting my tin on my shelf, I drag myself up, grab it, and swipe my phone from the bedside table before walking straight out to the balcony. My body falls to the ground, and the cool night air against my sweaty skin sends chills through me. Lighting up a blunt, I tap my phone open to her message thread.

Cammi:

I’m okay. I had my phone off. I’m in Sydney with my aunt.

She’s really gone. I’ve driven her out of fucking town. I want to fly to Sydney and drag her back. I can’t do that to her, though. I can’t force her to be around me. She’s right. It does fucking hurt seeing her and having to pretend like I don’t care. Because I do. I do care. Way too fucking much.

Before I can talk myself out of it, I send her another text.

Me:

Are you awake?

I don’t expect her to reply, but when my phone lights up with her picture on the screen, my heart skips a beat. She’s calling me. I click the answer button and bring the phone to my ear. I don’t say anything, just listen to her breathing.

“Vin? Are you okay?” Her sweet fucking voice breaks the silence.

“No,” I answer.

“What’s wrong?”

I shouldn’t do this to her. I’m meant to be letting her go, letting her start over without me. She needs to hate me, and here I am, leaning on her for comfort when it’s the last thing I deserve to take from her.

“They’re back,” I tell her. “You’re not here… I can’t… I tried to sleep and they came back.”

“The nightmares,” she says. It’s not a question; it’s a statement. She knows what I’m talking about. She doesn’t know what the nightmares entail, although I’m sure she can take a good guess now that she knows what happened to me.

“I shouldn’t have called you,” I tell her.

“Technically, I called you. And I want you to call me, Vin. It doesn’t matter what time or what you need. I’ll always answer,” she says.

“I don’t know who else to talk to. There is no one else I want to talk to,” I admit. I know I could call up Dash or Marcus, and they’d be here in a heartbeat to hang out and do whatever to occupy my mind. But all I really want right now is to wrap myself in Cammi, and I can’t fucking do that because I sent her away.

“You can talk to me. I’m not going to lie. It hurts, Vin. I’m hurting, but I will always be here for you, no matter what,” she says.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t want to hurt you, Cammi.”

“I know,” she whispers back.

“Why are you awake?” I ask her.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she says.

“How long are you staying in Sydney?”

“I’m not coming home. I’m going to stay here. Finish the school year out online and then start university next year.” She sounds like she’s reciting a speech. She’s got it all planned out.

I don’t know what to say. I want to tell her to come home. That I need her. But that’d be fucking selfish and counterproductive. “I hate that you felt like you had to leave.”

“Me too,” she says. “Vin?”

“Yeah?”

“Go back to bed. I’m going to video call you.” She hangs up, and straight away a video call request pops up.

“Hey.” I try to smile when I see her face, but my heart fucking hurts. Her skin is blotchy, and I can tell she’s been crying.

“Hey,” Cammi repeats.

I push to my feet, walk back into my bedroom, and lie on the bed. “Maybe we could try this friend thing out?” I suggest. She is my best friend after all. She’s the first and last person I think about every day.

“Mhmm. Sure,” Cammi agrees but I can tell it’s not what she wants. It’s not what either of us wants.

“Close your eyes. I want to tell you a story.” I wait for her to do as she’s told before speaking up again. “There was a boy, a rebellious, lost boy. He thought he had everything under control. He thought that he was handling life just fine. Then God gave him a saint…” I see Cammi smile, and by the time my story ends, she’s asleep. “I love you, Cammi,” I whisper and disconnect the call.

Standing against the wall opposite her locker, I glare at every fucker who dares to look at me. I’m in the mood for a fight and the first idiot who wants to take me on is going to cop the brunt of my anger. I’m pissed at myself. And at her. She’s really gone. I was hoping it was all a bad fucking dream, and she’d show up at her locker this morning. I know better than to hope for shit, but I really wanted her to be here.

“You can stare all day long. She’s gone. Because of you. Whatever you did to her, I hope you’re happy with yourself because you fucking broke her.” Devon, one of Cammi’s friends, stops in front of me.

I don’t respond to her. What the fuck can I say? She’s right. I did break Cammi. The one good fucking thing I had in my life, and I broke it. I always knew I would. It’s why I stayed away from her for so long, why I watched her from a distance for years. She doesn’t know just how long I wanted to talk to her, how long I wanted to touch her. I never told her.

I had her, and now I’ve driven her away. The monsters won, and I let them. I should have fought harder. But I can’t beat them. Sometimes you just have to learn to live with them.

“You’re pathetic. I’m glad she’s gone, so she doesn’t get drawn back into your bullshit, Vin. Leave her alone. She’s going to heal, and then she’s going to find a man worthy of her,” Devon hisses.

Her words are like a knife to the heart. She’s going to find a man worthy of her. Fuck no. I can’t have her. But like fuck am I going to let anyone have what’s mine either. The thought of Cammi being with someone else makes me physically ill.

“Haven’t you got something better to be doing with your time?” Dash throws back at Devon. When did he even get here?

“Nope,” she replies.

“Find something then. And remember who the fuck you’re talking to while you’re at it,” he grunts.

“Fuck you.” Devon looks from Dash to me. “And fuck you too. Or better yet, do the world a favour and go get hit by a bus.”

I raise an eyebrow at her. She might be one of Cammi’s best friends, and that has given her a lot of freedoms others don’t have when it comes to talking to me. But I will not be talked to like this by anyone. “Did Cammi tell you why we broke up?” I ask while taking a step in the girl’s direction.

She takes a step back, shaking her head as I take another step forward until she’s pressed up against Cammi’s locker.

Then I lean in, keeping my voice low. “She watched me kill a man with a steak knife. She stood there and watched and wanted to help me. She didn’t question why I killed him. She didn’t run to the cops. She wanted to help me.” I watch Devon’s face pale. “Whatever is happening with Cammi and me is none of your fucking business. She is mine. She will always be mine, no matter how far she runs. What we have is unbreakable. Trust me, I’ve tried,” I tell her and then step back.

Without sparing the girl another glance, I turn and walk out of the building. I shouldn’t have even fucking come here today. I’m not worried that Devon will tell anyone what I said. Who would believe her anyway? Probably everyone, but there’s no evidence, and I know Cammi would never speak a word against me.

By the time I get to my car, Dash is right behind me. “Where we going?”

“Cinque,” I tell him. My brothers and I own a distillery a short drive from town. It’s the best place to get fucked up on both whiskey and weed.

“Let’s go then.” Dash opens the passenger side door of my car and gets in. No questions asked.