Dalliance - Z.M. (An Exquisites Original Story)

55; Arsonist's Lullaby

Chapter 55

"Don't you ever tame your demons,
but always keep them on a leash."

(Raine's POV)

"Easy now," I tell Kai, helping him onto his bed as gently as I possibly can. He groans as he sits down with cuts on his face, bruises on his body, and so many drugs in his veins. Nausea overcomes me as I examine him, tears pricking in the corner of my eyes at the mere sight of him so damaged. But I wipe them as soon as they fall, not wanting him to worry.

"What happened, Raine?" He asks me, for what feels like the thousandth time tonight. Because of all of the drugs he was tortured with, he can't recall anything after he was brutally tortured by people he has never seen. The only thing he knows is that somehow I saved him, still unaware of my secret affiliation with his captors.

"I'll tell you," I promise him, setting his medications on the desk beside him. "Just please get some rest first."

"I've been resting," he whines, but lays in his bed nonetheless. Pulling the covers over him, I make sure he is completely comfortable as the weight of his eyes make them close. He is on so many medications that I don't really know how he's even awake for more than a minute.

"I'll be back to check up on you," I promise him, but I'm sure he's already sleeping when I see the rise and fall of his chest. With a deep sigh, I force myself to look away from him as I leave his room, leaving the door open just in case he calls out to me.

My shoulders fall in defeat as I make my way down the stairs of my childhood home. The once comforting atmosphere just makes me feel sick to my very core with the thought of what I will have to say to my mother when she finally comes back home from her shift at work. I don't know what to do or how to tell her about the situation that I have found myself in, but I don't exactly know how long it will be before we're back in Louisiana and I doubt Ramone is the type to keep an itinerary. The last thing I want is for her to come looking for us.

My feet carry me to the front porch as I take a seat on the swing we have in the front. Sulking in the Berwick air has become staple for me, as I find myself coming back home only when things go horribly wrong in my life.

The neighbors across from me are playing with their kids in the front yard, all of them passing me a wave once they see me. I lift my hand to wave back, envying the simple, cookie-cutter life that I wish I had now. I remember when they had their last kid six years ago, and how my life was nothing short of ordinary. I used to wish for something to make me different so I wasn't forced to live like everyone else, something that could make me feel less average. I just never expected it to be something like this.

Now, all I can think back to is the days where I cried over simple pleasures like bad grades, flaky friends, ugly dresses, my appearance, my annoying mother, my jerk of a brother, and the beautiful boy next door that I had a crush on. More than anything, I wish I can go back in time to those days and appreciate them so much more, because at least I was relatively safe. At least I could make my own choices. At least I had never killed anyone before.

But now I have lost count of how many lives I've ended and distracted myself with an endless parade of sex, drugs, and money. Everything I thought I wanted turned out to be what has taken the better part of me. I've been robbed of everything I ever held dear, including my dreams.

My heart feels heavy with a remorse I didn't think I was capable of feeling. It feels as though my mind and my heart are two different beings, and nothing I can do will help either in any way. I try to feel something like worry, or sadness, or guilt, but I can't feel anything other than blinding anger. An anger so profusely vigorous that I could light the entire world on fire if it meant killing those who have wronged me.