Page 2 of Hostile Saint

I knew what she wanted, so I pressed my left palm to that hand so our scars could touch.

Then, our fingers intertwined and folded so we could hold on tight.

To help us through the years of abuse, that one word, evermore, and that hand-hold, had become our promise to each other. That one word and simple touch gave us a rock to hold on to when it came to our deep connection. Not that it was truly needed because her innocent love for me was boundless.

“Evermore.” My lips pressed to hers. “You made every hour of their hatred worth it.” Hungrily, I kissed her, again.

Ravenous lips welcomed me as Lace cried and held me tight. “Every second of it all, worth it, because of you.”

Every moment we had spent together, the serene and the horrific ones, were now all blending together and fading away. That is what it felt like to be so close to the end. It was eerie to comprehend all the normal dreams two in-love teenagers could create, would never be for us. Not that we ever dared to dream such things, but now there would never even be a chance to. No home to share. No children to adore. My Pretty Girl would never be my wife.

“Lace…” The car turned onto another street. “Marry me.”

After a gasp and magical stare, she kissed me with lips that were drenched in blood and tears. “I would’ve. I swear it.”

It was during the very last seconds of our lives when I realized that no preacher or priest need be present when making promises of the heart. So, in that grungy trunk, I took matters into my own incapable hands and spoke the truth. “I, Tate, the young man who loves Lacey, will always treasure and adore her.” My eyes met hers. “Even after death.”

Her swollen mouth fell open in surprise, making her look more beautiful than any bride ever could.

Then, with admirable determination, she attempted to smile before saying, “I, Lacey, the young woman who loves Tate, will always treasure,” she choked on a sob that was mixed with joy and terror, “and adore him. Evermore.”

With that pledge, my soul could now rest in peace. Lacey was mine. Spirit and heart. “Evermore.”

We lay there, staring at each other as our bodies began to bounce. The road turning into bumpy terrain told us we had taken our vows… just in time.

The car skidded to a stop.

Car doors creaked open.

Even with serenity in my heart due to our marriage, my body began to tremble. This death was going to be our brothers’ most violent act.

Yes, it was our own brothers—hers and mine—that were going to kill Lacey and me.

Jarod and Jake, Lacey’s twin older brothers, were who I saw first when the trunk opened. From under their short dark hair, their brown eyes gleamed with promises of horror. Behind them and above, I saw trees and the glowing night sky. Nothing else. We were in some woods I didn’t recognize.

Behind Jake and Jarod appeared my own two brothers, Damien and Crow. Their blue eyes radiated the demented excitement I had witnessed so many times before, and their smiles beamed the malice I was grateful to soon never see again.

My throat was so restricted from worry. “Please don’t hurt Mom after I’m gone.”

So many sacrifices had been made to keep two girls safe. My mom and Lace.

All four brothers smirked.

A chill ran through me.

With no regard for how much his words would cut me, Damien informed, “You are an idiot. I want you to know that before you die. We would never, ever hurt our mom.”

Terrified for my mom’s safety, I had suffered, unimaginably.

As my mind raced, tried to comprehend the inconceivable, Crow gestured to Lace and me, and sneered, “You two, on the other hand… Well, you already know that answer.”

The two sets of brothers laughed so callously, anyone watching would never have believed their siblings were bleeding in the trunk of the car.

Crow leaned in, sneering, “Mom won’t even bother to search for you.”

“She will!” I snapped, tired of their cruel words that were touching an exposed nerve.

Damien, amused, spoke as if a crying child. “Ah, just wike she wrapped your boo-boos?”