I was a sadist killer who got her rocks off on her victims’ pain. I’d become someone way worse than the Dusty I rejected for beating an asshole like Samuel. Someone like the fucker I shot and the lowlife I’d just tortured to death for revenge.
Did I like that person I’d become? I didn’t think so. Did I care?
Fuck no.
As if a humanity switch was real, in the Boiler, before the feelings I’d been bottling down consumed me, I had to turn that switch off entirely. The question was, could it be turned back on or had I lost myself and my soul forever and turned into that monster I’d always feared and loathed to be come?
My mind didn’t even try to justify what I’d done. I didn’t need to tell myself they hurt me and what I did was justice. Even my inner voice was silent. As if getting hurt entitled me to hurt back unapologetically, without an ounce of regret or guilt.
Dusty was right after all. This place sucked your soul dry until there was nothing left.
Big Gun helped me back to the house. Then I washed off the blood before I headed to the bedroom. I knew Dusty was there, waiting for me to come back. I didn’t want him to see his mother’s blood on my hands.
The second I entered the room, I saw the strangest expression on his face. He had a huge grin on his mouth as tears streamed down his cheeks.
I took off all my clothes, and he held my naked body close to his. His eyes still brought the memories, but they didn’t torment me anymore.
His heated breath teased my lips. “Is it over?”
I tangled my hands in his hair and pressed my mouth to his. “Yes.”
He pulled away, his lips swollen. His glistening gaze bore into mine, as if searching for a different answer. “No, it isn’t.”
Before I asked him what he meant, he tugged at the end of his t-shirt and slid it over his head.
CHAPTER 43
Dusty
She didn’t use the blindfold.
I should have been happy, over the fucking moon for feeling her sweet pussy tightening around my cock over and over after weeks of blue balls. For seeing her beautiful eyes glaze over and roll back as I sent her moaning and purring my name.
But I was numb, too. I’d say I was sheltering myself from the pain of losing my mother, the same way Cammie had been doing since Ash. But no. I’d stopped caring about Beth the second I knew about my baby. I was numb because Cameron rubbed off on me pretty bad. The only person who had made me feel something different other than the shit in my world now was the reason I was back in this dump, feeling nothing but it. Especially with that vacant look in her eyes. The look I’d seen on many faces around here.
I was numb because I didn’t want to feel the pain that came with losing my Cammie to Claws.
I thought when Beth was gone, Cammie would stop being that empty shell, would come back to me. But last night I knew my Cammie was gone for good. There was only Claws.
The only time she looked like her old self was when she was spending time with Carter. I once made the mistake of telling her she’d have made a great mother. She stopped talking to the boy completely after.
I sank down into a chair at the kitchen table. The sweetbutts set me with my coffee and some eggs along with the glorious view of their tits almost falling out of their tops.
People were dancing, smoking weed, and slamming shots in the middle of the day. One couple was off in the corner, having sex against the wall. Owl, Ginger, Chain and Serial blocked the sun one by one as they entered the house.
Owl filled himself a cup of coffee. “Morning, Prez.”
“What’s up?”
He found a chair. “Stacking arms for the big fun.”
“Found anything on Wrench?”
“The birds are everywhere. We’ll see who sings. We’re ready for him and his pack of dogs any time anyway.”
There was a new brunette on the other side of the kitchen counter where I sat. College age. Curvy, wearing a yellow bikini. I missed Cammie’s all brown hair. She’d bleached parts of it blonde without even asking me and got so many fucking tattoos I stopped counting. None of them were skulls or roses, though. Maybe, it was a good sign there was still hope she didn’t truly want to stay here. “You filled the pool last night or something?”
Owl cackled. “Nah. It’s Ginger that picked her up from a pool party.”