Key to Hell (Hell Night Series Book 4), page 22
She inclines her head. “I do. Emo’s an intense person, but the way he looks at you, the way his eyes follow you everywhere… it goes beyond that. He may not realize it yet, but he loves you. And not just as a friend or his best friend’s little sister.”
Her words lift my spirits. “I hope you’re right. Do you think Trouble will be okay with it?”
“I think he’ll be thrilled. He knows Emo would do anything and everything to protect you.”
I think my brother will be okay with it too, but it’s reassuring to hear someone else feels the same way.
Just then, we hear the front door opening, and Remi and I both jump up from our seats. The thud of boots sounds across the floor and it matches my heartbeat. A moment later, Aziah and Trouble walk into the kitchen. Remi immediately races across the room and throws her arms around his neck, and he leans down for a kiss.
I slide my eyes to Aziah, and immense relief fills me at the sight of him. I wish I had the nerve to do the same thing Remi did with Trouble. Instead, I walk over to him at a slower pace with my heart still pounding. Once I’m in front of him, I grab his hand and bring it to my cheek, loving the warmth of his touch. Something calm passes over his face as he gazes down at me.
“I’m glad you’re home,” I whisper.
His fingers curl against my skin as he rumbles thickly, “So am I.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
RELLA
The Past
WITH BOO TUCKED UNDER my arm, I skip down the hall toward Trouble’s bedroom and push the door open without knocking.
“You’re supposta knock before you come in,” my brother says from the floor, where he, Aziah, JW, and Judge are building a race track.
“But why?”
He shrugs, placing two of the plastic pieces together like a puzzle. “Just cuz. When the door’s shut, you knock.”
I pout. “Well, it’s stupid, and I ain’t ever gonna knock on your door.”
He shrugs again. “Whatever.”
I rub one of Boo’s ears against my cheek. It always feels so soft.
“I’ve got a tea party all set up in my room. Do y’all wanna have tea and cookies with me and Boo?”
“We’ll come as soon as we finish the track.”
“How long will it take?”
Trouble glances up. “I dunno. Maybe an hour.”
“Oh, okay.” I toe one of the cars. It’s dumb to get upset over not having my brother come play with me now, especially since he said he would do it afterward, but an hour seems like such a long time away. And the tea will be warm, and the cookies will taste rubbery by then.
“I’ll come with you now,” Aziah says, getting to his feet.
My face lights up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m kinda hungry and thirsty anyway.”
I smile big up at him and grab his hand. “Thanks.” I tug him toward the doorway.
“Hey,” Trouble calls out. “Don’t eat all the cookies or drink all the tea. Leave us some, would ya? When we get done here, I’ll sneak some gummy bears and bring them with me.”
I beam at him. “Okay.”
I continue to pull Aziah down the hallway. I love my brother, JW, and Judge, but I always really love spending time with Aziah. Being with him always makes me happy.
I walk him over to the little table in my room and point to one of the chairs. “You sit there.” He looks too big for the chair when he sits. I flop Boo down in the chair next to him, making sure he’s sitting up perfectly. When I sit down in the seat across from Aziah, I look at him and see him looking down at the hand I grabbed, wiggling his fingers. The expression on his face looks funny.
I pick up the teapot and pour some into one of the little cups. “Do you want one or two cookies?” I ask him after I slide the saucer and cup to him, making sure it doesn’t slosh over the edge.
“Two.”
I put three on his plate, just because I want to give him something extra for coming to play with me.
Trouble plays with me a lot, and so do the others, but I know he wants to do boy stuff too. Aziah always offers to spend time with me when I ask.
I pour Boo and me some tea and put one cookie on each of our plates. I’m nine, and some people might think I’m a little too old for tea parties, but I don’t care. I don’t really have any friends besides my boys, so I’ve learned to play with my stuffed animals. I could have friends, but I don’t really want any other ones except for my boys.
I smile when Aziah picks up his little tea cup and gulps all of it down.
“Is your tea good?” I ask, picking up my own cup and taking a small sip. Boys never know how to drink tea properly at tea parties. I don’t care though.
“Yes.” He sets it down and grabs one of the cookies, eyeing it.
“I made the cookies all by myself. I found one of momma’s recipes.” I watch him expectantly as he takes a bite. When he doesn’t make a weird face, I grin bigger. I guess I made them okay.
I pick one up and take a big bite, then spit it out onto the plate. Using a napkin, I scrub my tongue over and over again.
“Yuck!” I spit more pieces out of my mouth. “That was nasty!” Holy moly, I’ve never tasted anything so bad before.
Hearing a laugh, I look over at Aziah. His whole face lights up when he laughs, and I wish he did it more.
“Why did you act like you liked it?” I complain. Grabbing the teapot, I don’t even pour it into my cup, I just drink it straight from the pot. I use the back of my hand to wipe my mouth. “You could have told me before I ate one too.”
“I did like it,” he says, sounding serious.
I shake my head, my long hair bouncing around me. “You don’t havta lie, Aziah. It tasted bad. Really bad. I must have got the recipe wrong.”
He picks up another cookie and pops it into his mouth. “Nah. It’s not that bad.”
I almost puke when he starts chewing.
“Besides, you took the time to make them, so they should get eaten.”
I reach over and scoop up Boo and set him in my lap. “Well, I’m not gonna to eat them. I almost puked my guts out.”
His eyes begin to sparkle like they do when he’s going to do something funny. I always like it when he’s like this. It doesn’t happen as often as it used to. Not since he was forced to…. I don’t want to think about it, so I make the thought go away.
“How ’bout we leave the rest for the others to eat?” he asks, a grin creeping across his face.
I giggle. “They’ll be sooo mad.”
He shrugs. “Nah. That’s what happens when you’re late to one of your tea parties. They’ll be okay.”
I squeeze Boo tightly to my chest and lean over the table, practically bouncing in my seat with anticipation. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
He winks at me, and I wrinkle my nose when he shoves the last cookie from his plate into his mouth. Even though I know it tasted like dog poop, he doesn’t even make a face. When he smiles at me through the bite, I smile back.
In a world that’s turning darker and darker, month after month, he always manages to flip the light back on and make my life that much brighter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
EMO
I WALK INSIDE TROUBLE and Remi’s house and head straight for the living room, where I hear Rella laughing. I find her lying on her back on the floor with Elijah bouncing on her stomach. The sight shoots something sharp and painful straight through my heart. She’ll never have this. She’ll never be able to lie around and play with her own child. She could adopt or have a surrogate mother, but it wouldn’t be the same as growing a child in her womb. I wish I could go back in time and do all the right things, to change her future.
I stop a foot away and stare down at her. Her luscious brown hair is fanned out around her and her face is lit up with happiness. Her eyes meet mine, and the look brightens even more, like she’s very happy to see me.
Elijah crawls off her lap, and I help Rella to her feet. When I glance down, curious blue eyes stare up at me. He sticks a thumb in his mouth and reaches up with the other arm. I’ve never held Elijah before. Even a child has self-preservation, and he’s always steered away from me. Not that I would ever hurt him. I’d hack through every inch of my body with my dull blade before I hurt a child. He doesn’t know that though. Instinct warns him away because of the vibes I give off.
I don’t know why I do it, but I grab him by the waist and hoist him up into my arms. Maybe I feel the need because I know Rella cares for him so much. I want to be a part of what she loves.
Elijah is normally very rambunctious, always moving in some way. Right now though, he’s as still as bean, just looking at me as he continues to suck his thumb. I can’t help but stare back at him. Several seconds later, his thumb pops out of his mouth and he gives me a toothy grin. The innocence of the little boy is astounding, and it sends a twinge of pain to my chest. I was never this innocent, even at his age.
My eyes flick passed his shoulder to find Rella watching, a soft expression bringing out the beautiful green in her eyes.
I put the boy down, and he toddles off toward his pile of toys on the floor. I hold my hand out to Rella.
“Come on. There’s something I want you to try.”
Without hesitation, she places her small hand in my bigger one. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to holding her hand.
Remi’s on the couch, watching our exchange, so I tell her I’m taking Rella with me and we’ll be back later.
I drove my car today, so I lead her to it, open the door, then close it behind her.
“What’s going on? Where are we going?” she asks, sliding her seat belt into place.
“My house. And you’ll see when we get there.”
A few minutes later, I’m letting her in my house. It’s been a week since Trouble and I got back from our failed mission to kill Charles Lancaster. We’re both back at Trouble’s house. I wanted to stay at my place, but I didn’t want Rella there. Not while I have what I have in the basement.
Rella’s quiet as I drop the canvas bag I brought in from the car on the kitchen table. I know she’s wracking her brain, trying to figured out what I have planned. I just hope she’s okay with it. I think it could really help her.
A few minutes later, I hear a car door shut outside.
“Stay here,” I tell her, then go let Taza in.
Taza’s probably in his early fifties, with long black hair with streaks of gray that he normally leaves down. Today he has it pulled back into a braid that reaches halfway down his back. He has a slim build, deep brown eyes, high cheekbones, and caramel-colored skin. His great-great-grandparents were full-blooded Cherokee Indian.
“Thanks for coming on short notice,” I say as I let him in the door.
He shrugs his slender shoulders. “Didn’t have much going on anyway.”
He follows me into the kitchen, carrying a couple of medical bags. Rella’s across the room, leaning against the counter, chewing on her thumbnail. Her face pales when she sees Taza, and her eyes flash to me.
I walk over and stand in front of her so she can’t see him anymore. “Hey, look at me,” I say gently, pulling her thumb from her mouth. I silently curse when I see she’s bitten it down to the quick and it’s bleeding.
Her eyes slide to me, and apprehension darkens the normally bright green.
“There’s something I want to try, if you’ll let us.”
“What?”
My chest spasms at the quiver in her voice.
I jerk my head behind me. “That’s Taza.” I let her hand go and pull up my sleeve, revealing tattooed and scarred skin. “He’s done every one of my tattoos. I met him when I was sixteen in Kentucky, and I brought him here a year after we came to live here.”
She frowns, a wrinkle forming between her eyes. “He did all your tattoos?”
“Yes. He’s the only one I trust to do them.”
“Okay.”
I can feel the tremors coming off her body. I blow out a long breath and try my best to put what I’m thinking into words.
“Pain has always been a big part of my life. Physical pain from my father and emotional pain from what I did to you. After the raid when I was away from my father, I still needed it. It was the only thing that helped quiet the demons in my head enough to keep me relatively grounded.” I look down at the multitude of scars on my arms. “One day, Trouble suggested I start getting tattoos. I’d still get my fix of pain, but it would leave pictures behind instead of scars.”
Rella traces one of the smooth and even scars hidden beneath the ink, then moves to a jagged one. “But you still cut yourself. Using the key.”
I nod. “I don’t have much skin left that isn’t inked over. Some of these are designs on top of designs. In the beginning, I would use a razor blade.” I watch her eyes closely. “Like you. But even so, before and after my body was covered in ink, it still wasn’t enough. Sometimes it was, but other times, when the darkness in me was too great, I still resorted to slicing into my skin with a razor blade. When the key came into my possession, I changed my weapon of choice. The key holds a lot of meaning to me. It’s both my penance and my redemption.”
Tears glisten in her eyes. The last thing I want to do is upset her.
“The point I’m trying to make is, maybe you can alleviate your need for pain with tattoos. They still hurt like a bitch, but you can leave something beautiful behind.”
She chews her bottom lip, her eyes flickering back and forth between mine as she thinks over my suggestion. Her gaze moves beyond my shoulder to where I hear Taza unloading his equipment on the kitchen table.
“I don’t know,” she whispers and slides her eyes back to me. She leans closer, as if she doesn’t want Taza to hear what she’s saying. “I don’t think I’ll be able to let him touch me.”
The thought of Taza touching her makes me insane too, but I’ll live through it if it helps Rella.
“I’ll be right there with you the whole time. If it ever gets to be too much, we can always stop and try again another time. But I really think this could help.”
It takes her several long seconds, in which her expression changes from one emotion to another, to another, before she nods slowly. “I’ll try.”
An indescribable and powerful need to lean down and kiss her hits me all of a sudden. It’s a craving I’ve never felt before. It’s so strong it damn near brings me to my knees. It’s also something I need to shove to the very depths of my soul.
So, that’s what I do. I push away my wants and turn to the table. Taza has all of his equipment out and is setting little bottles of ink on the table beside it all. He doesn’t have a shop in Malus. He prefers to conduct business out of his house. However, anytime I need ink done, he comes here.
I grab Rella’s hand and bring her over to the table. She doesn’t look at Taza, instead focusing on everything on the table.
“Rella, this is Taza,” I introduce the two.
He doesn’t hold out his hand to her but instead offers a kind smile. He knows of her aversion to touch, especially from people she doesn’t know. “It’s good to meet you.”
“You too,” Rella says, barely audible.
“It’s your choice to make if you’ve already got something in mind, but if it’s okay, I’ve got an idea for a design,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “I don’t have anything.”
Nodding, I pull a piece of paper from my pocket and hand it over to Taza. “Just like that. No alterations.”
“Can I see it?” Rella turns to look at the sketch I handed Taza, but I turn her back to face me.
“Not yet. I don’t want you to see it until it’s finished.”
“Where will it go?”
“On your back. It’s kinda big, so it’ll take some time to finish. We’ll stop and finish it another day if we need to.”
“Okay.”
I step closer to her and lower my voice. “You’ll need to take your bra off. I left one of my shirts on my bed. It’s big and will be easy to keep off your back. Go to my room and change.”
After a brief hesitation, she leaves the room. While she’s gone, I grab a few bottles of water out of the canvas bag and put them on the table. We’ll be here for a while, and I don’t plan to leave Rella’s side, so I want to be prepared in case she needs something to drink. Next, I situate the chairs the way I want them. Taza is quiet as he transfers the design to the transfer paper.
When Rella walks back into the kitchen, her arms are tightly crossed over her chest. Her wary gaze alights on Taza before she walks to me. I gesture to a seat.
“I’m going to braid your hair and put it over your shoulder so it doesn’t get in the way.”
Her hair is so thick and long, it takes me several minutes to braid it. I try to forget how soft it feels between my fingers as I do so.
“Everything’s set,” Taza announces, resting back in his chair.
I grab the last thing in the bag and take the seat I put in front of Rella. Her eyes widen when she sees Boo.
“I took him before I left earlier to talk to Taza. I figured having him might help.”
She smiles. “Thank you. It’s childish now, but having Boo when I was a kid always helped when I was afraid of something.”
Something like pride fills my chest, knowing I’m the one who gave her that comfort in the form of a stuffed rabbit.
She grabs Boo and pulls him to her chest, hugging the toy tightly.
“I’m going to pull the back of your shirt up now. Just pretend like he’s not here and keep your eyes on me, okay?”
She takes a slow shaky breath and nods. Leaning forward, I grab the back hem of her shirt and slowly lift it. She stiffens the higher the material gets and her face pales, but she doesn’t look away from me. I tug the shirt until it’s resting over her shoulders, exposing her entire back.
“Emo told me you don’t like to be touched, so I’ll be as careful as I can be with minimal contact,” Taza states calmly.
Rella nods, the movement jerky. The muscles in her jaw harden when she clenches her teeth as Taza presses the transfer paper to her back. She visibly relaxes when he peels it off.
