Page 26 of Sinner's Malice

Walking up behind him, I saw what he saw.

There, laying on the bed, was the one woman who could destroy me, beaten black and blue from head to toe. My handprints, clear as day, around her neck. When she looked atme, her eyes widened in fear as she scrambled back against the headboard, trying to put distance between us.

I didn’t like that.

Moving to stop her, Torment held up his hand, halting me.

“Don’t you fucking move.”

Doing as he said, I stood there while Torment slowly approached her bed. Her eyes wild and frantic as she vigorously shook her head. Stopping where he stood, Torment clenched his fist and slowly turned his head to look at me.

“You son of a bitch. You fucking beat her!”

I growled as I surveyed the destruction I’d inflicted on her small body. I should have known better. I was bigger and stronger than her. In my anger, I could have torn her apart. How she was still intact, I would never know. Sighing, I closed my eyes and begged God to forgive me.

“Get the fuck out of here, Malice,” Torment sneered angrily. “Leave. Right now, unless you want Montana to fucking kill you, because that’s exactly what he’s going to do when he sees her and puts two and two together.”

He was right.

I was a dead man walking.

There was no other way around it.

I saw it clearly now. My actions last night were unforgivable.

I was just like him.

I knew that now, and when Montana figured out the truth, he wouldn’t think twice before putting a bullet in my head. Part of me wished he would. I dreamed of ending the years of misery and torment I had suffered. I wasn’t worth the effort. I was death and destruction. The very depraved thing my father cultivated me to be.

I was my father’s son.

Chapter Six

Silver

“Silver, will you please hand me the gauze tape?” Linsey asked sweetly, as she stood behind me and I sat stoically, unmoving, and handed her everything she asked for while she cleaned up and bandaged my back.

It still hurt like a motherfucker, but I refused to flinch. Not even when Linsey cleaned the area and put antiseptic on it. Instead, I just sat there, ignoring the pain. It was something I was good at. I just never thought I’d be in this position again.

“I don’t give a fuck, Pippen!” Torment shouted into his phone. Looking over at him, I frowned. Since Linsey had returned, the once calm and reserved brother was barely hanging on by a thread. “Kill the motherfucking feed now! Erase everything. Yes, I know what Montana told you to do. I don’t give a fuck. Just do it! NOW! And if you utter one fucking word about what you saw, I will make damn sure you never become a fully-fledged brother. Got me?”

Disconnecting the call, he rubbed the back of his neck and turned toward me. Walking over to me, he stopped and looked down at me.

“Sweetheart. I need to touch you. Do I have your permission?”

I nodded.

I didn’t like it, but I agreed. I knew he was only trying to get a better look at the damage Malice had inflicted. Being this close to me, I knew he could see the angry bruising and slight swelling in my throat. It looked bad, and if I could have been sure that the hospital wouldn’t call the police, I would have gone there immediately. Instead, I had to hope that Linsey knew what she was doing, and that Torment could prescribe me something for the swelling.

Tenderly, Torment lifted my neck to get a better look at my throat. When he carefully touched the slight swelling around my trachea, I flinched and pulled away from him.

“Hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart. Follow my finger for me.”

I did as he asked.

“The petechial hemorrhaging in your eyes will heal in a few days, but you need arnica cream for the swelling and bruising around your throat.”