Souls Unfractured

by Tillie Cole

  Grabbing my blades, I burst out of the door and ran all the fucking way to the compound. As I broke through the line of trees, I ran until I reached the window of Styx’s apartment… then stopped dead.

  The window.

  Sat at the fucking window was Maddie.

  My heart kicked into a sprint as I stared at her.

  Then she looked down and stared back at me.

  I watched her mouth drop open.

  I watched her green eyes widen.

  I watched her hand press to the glass.

  I watched her lips, as they mouthed, “Flame…”

  Clutching my blades at my side, I stormed forward. I began pacing below her window. Because no one would fucking get near her again. No one would ever hurt her again. If they did, they would die.

  Die under my motherfucking blades.

  Because she was mine.

  The little black-haired bitch called Maddie was mine.

  Chapter One

  Flame

  Present day…

  No. No. NO!

  I raced down the graveled road to my cabin, unable to stop the fucking messed up thoughts filling in my head. They have her. They’ll hurt her.

  I pushed my legs harder. They screamed in pain, still weak from all the motherfucking weeks spent strapped to a hospital bed, but I needed to get to Maddie. She needed me to stop them. She needed me to stop them from hurting her too.

  I’d taken a bullet for her. When Lilah freaked after she’d been rescued from the commune, and accidently fired the gun in her hands—the gun aiming right at Maddie—I’d had to save her. I’d had to fucking save her life.

  But it was all for nothing, now they had her in that church.

  Reaching my cabin, I opened the door and I burst into the living room. Finding my bike’s keys on the countertop, I grabbed them in my hand and ran to my bike outside. Throwing myself onto the saddle, I turned the key and the engine roared to life. My heart boomed like fucking thunder as the bike vibrated beneath me.

  Heeling up the kickstand, I saw Viking and AK running down the hill after me. They were screaming at me to stop, but I couldn’t. I needed to get to Maddie. I couldn’t fucking leave her there, with those people.

  Not her.

  Not Maddie.

  Not my Maddie!

  Back wheel skidding on the graveled drive, I launched like a fucking bat out of hell onto the dirt road. I caught the sound of a bike following me in the distance, but I didn’t stop, Ky’s bitch’s words fucking piercing my brain.

  “Maddie is at Our Savior Church… She has been going there for a while now. We all have.”

  I rode harder, not knowing if I was too late. But knowing if I didn’t get there, it could be too late. They’d make her scream. And I couldn’t hear her scream. I couldn’t bear the screaming. It boiled my blood. It ignited the flames under my flesh. It fucking haunted my brain.

  My hands shook on the bars of my Harley as I fought not to explode with fucking rage. I pictured Maddie’s green eyes. I pictured her pale skin. Her long black hair. Then all I saw in my head was her covered in blood; held down and hurt. And I could picture her screaming. Could see those green eyes wide, could see those eyes crying as they tied her down. All the people in the church tying her down and causing her pain.

  And I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save her. Another one… another one would be taken from me. Because I wasn’t there to protect her.

  Clenching my hands on the Harley’s bars, I let a scream tear from my injured throat. And I kept pushing my bike harder until I pulled into the opening roads of downtown. I ran every red light. Cut roads and crossings.

  Then two more right turns and the motherfucker came into view.

  White.

  Grand.

  A fucking house of evil disguised as good.

  Our Savior’s Church.

  And it held my Maddie.

  Skidding to a stop out front, I jumped off my bike. As my boots hit asphalt, I fought the pounding in my head at being near this fucking hell. The drugs were still in my blood from the hospital, but I had no choice but to push through.

  I looked down at my open palms and my hands shook, my leg muscles seized. And like a fucking pussy, I looked up at the steep white steps and I couldn’t fucking move.

  And then, in my mind’s eye, I saw him standing in front of me, ordering me to get closer to the church door. I saw the cold look in his eyes as he stared down at me, his lip curled in disgust.

  Sinner. You’re a sinner boy, he hissed, the memory too real, and my heart sank to the ground. You need to purge the flames from your blood. You need to purge the evil from your dark soul.

  I gasped for breath, and had to use my bike’s saddle for balance when I thought my legs would give out at the memory. I didn’t want to give in to the memory. I didn’t want to go back there. I didn’t want to see his fucking face in my mind. But what I wanted didn’t mean shit. Because he was always there. He always came for me. He never left me the fuck alone.

  The roar of another Harley’s engine sounded behind me and I dropped my raised hands. I knew it was AK and Viking without even looking back. And they’d try to stop me. I knew they would, because they didn’t understand what would happen behind those wooden doors where no one else could see.

  Pushing myself to stand, I stared up at the church again. Forcing my legs to move, I walked forward to the bottom of the steep steps. But I couldn’t go any further. I tried to force my feet to move, to make that first fucking step, but they didn’t. They wouldn’t. My pussy ass was too fucking afraid of facing what was behind those doors.

  Lowering my head, I hit at my skull with the bottom of my palm. “Move!” I ordered myself. “Fucking move, you pussy!”

  Unable to climb the steps, I began to pace the sidewalk. I walked back and forth, back and forth, my head becoming too full. Fucked up images in my mind. Warnings in my brain.

  “They’ll hurt Maddie. They’re hurting Maddie,” I told myself. And the flames burned hotter in my veins.

  I fought for air as I paced faster and pictured Maddie’s face again.

  One way or another, I was getting her the fuck out.

  Chapter Two

  Maddie

  For hours, I had been sitting tucked into the shadows, hidden behind the large white marble statue of Jesus.

  I could not take being at the compound any longer, even though it was Lilah and Ky’s wedding day. I could not stand one more second of being trapped in that bedroom, staring out of the window, praying desperately for Flame to step out from the line of trees.

  But he never did.

  Closing my eyes, I pictured him diving in front of that bullet to save my life. Then all I could see was blood.

  Allowing my eyes to reopen, my head fell against the legs of the statue and my hand gripped over the empty ache in my chest. Instantly, my mind filled with him—dark eyes, dark short beard, slightly crooked nose and his huge tattooed body standing protectively under my window, blades in his hands.

  I lost focus, staring at the hardwood floor of the church, but I lifted my head when my favorite sound began to play. The strings of a guitar echoed off the high walls. Then the soft keys of the piano joined the magical sound of the hymn that always made me smile. My hands began to slowly relax, and my body began to gently rock in time to the beat.

  From where I sat, I could not see the choir, but I could hear them. It was why I came to Church. It was not for the religion, but for this madrigal music.

  “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

  This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

  This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine.

  Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine…”

  My lips moved, silently mouthing the lyrics. But I would not sing. I could not say the words aloud. I would never dare sing. I had always been taught that singing was forbidden, a sin. But I could listen. I could listen and feel safe… feel a flicke
r of happiness, if only for a few short minutes while the sweet sound continued.

  The hymn played on, and I smiled, until the last pretty lyric faded away...

  “Every day, every day, I’m gonna let my little light shine…”

  Exhaling a slow deep sigh, I leaned further into the legs of the statue, content to listen to the rehearsal of the gospel choir. But in the brief silence between hymns, a sound outside of the church could be discerned.

  “Maddie!”

  My body straightened at the harsh and guttural roar screaming my name. My heart began thundering in my ears.

  “Maddie!” The shouter called out again. My hands began to shake. The choir’s questioning murmurs could be heard from upstairs on their balcony. Pastor James’ office door swung open. She came rushing out, tension on her face. Pastor James, the woman who had invited me and my sisters into her church without question. The woman who had married Lilah and Ky just hours before. And the woman who had returned to the church shortly after me, so that I would not be here alone.

  I became as still as the statue beside me, my body frozen in terror. Pastor James headed my way, concern written all over her face.

  She opened her mouth to speak, when the deafening sound of an engine boomed beyond the doors, followed by another scream.

  “MADDIE!” This call was louder, more frantic.

  A hand touched my shoulder. Crying out at this unexpected touch, I scampered backward until my body became wedged between the wall of the altar and the statue of Jesus. My knees automatically came up to my chest and my arms immediately wrapped around my legs. Pastor James’ hands flew into the air as her eyes fell upon me. “Maddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.”

  I tried to breathe, tried to shake off the feeling of Pastor James’ scalding touch on my body. But just as I managed to fill my lungs with air, the desperate call sounded again.

  “MADDIE!”

  Pastor James jumped to her feet and looked to the open front doors. Throwing me a glance, she nervously commanded, “Stay here, Maddie.”

  A male member of the choir came running down the stairs from the balcony and he met Pastor James halfway down the aisle.

  He looked my way after Pastor James said something to him and, together, they cautiously made their way to the entrance. I watched them intently, my eyes barely blinking, wondering what they would find.

  “MADDIE!” the voice called again, its malevolent cutting rasp making me flinch. But then I heard something else that abated my fear.

  “For fuck sake! The Bible Bashers are gonna call the pigs! You getting that asshole? Styx will skin your psycho ass! You just got fucking home!”

  My hands stopped shaking at hearing the familiar voice and name. As the repeat call of “MADDIE!” filtered into the church, I jumped to my feet and sprang from the shadows. Gathering my floor-length dress in my hands, I hurried into the body of the church, rushing forward until the bright sun from the open entrance lit up the dark wooden floor.

  “I won’t say it again. I need you to leave or I’ll call the police.” Pastor James was talking when I arrived at the large doors. The man from the choir immediately saw me and tapped her on her arm.

  Pastor James turned round and paled. “Maddie, darlin’, stay in the church and call your sister, or even better, Mr. Nash.”

  Her face betrayed her fear, but her protests quickly turned to white noise in my ears as I reached the exit and saw, waiting below, at the edge of the busy road was him… Flame. He was pacing back and forth. As always, I counted his steps. Eleven to the right, eleven to the left.

  As I drank in how he looked, I feared my legs would collapse. That confusing sensation of my stomach swooping hit me, as my eyes focused on his leather-clad legs and the Hangmen cut partly covering his bare torso.

  His strangely cut dark hair was in its usual state of disarray. His skin was pale and he had lost weight. I frowned. His muscles were twitching more than usual. His hands clenched into fists more than normal. His lips were muttering something inaudible from this distance, yet… he was still Flame. He was still the man who protected me. He was still the silent shadow that kept me safe.

  The man I had missed with the most incredible fervor.

  His friends, Viking and AK, stood off to the side. Viking, the enormous red haired brother, looked distressed as he talked to the dark-haired AK, and when he ran his hand through his hair, he turned, and his attention locked on me.

  Viking’s large chest deflated in what looked like relief and he said something to AK. AK looked toward me and threw a small tired wave.

  But I did not have the time to spare for them. All I could concentrate on right now was Flame.

  I winced as I caught sight of white gauze on the side of his neck. The gunshot graze. The bullet that should have hit me if he had not thrown himself in its path...

  ... to protect me.

  Flame’s pace increased. I could see his hands shaking as his fists became impossibly tight. Then, with a corded neck, he began to scream. His croaked and rough voice made it to “MADD—” before his eyes whipped to the top of the stairs…

  … where they collided with mine.

  Flame’s bellowed call caught in his throat and his body came to an abrupt stop. He staggered on uneasy feet as though he was too tired to be standing. But that midnight stare remained. His hands stopped shaking, his wide bare chest pumped at a heady speed, yet a strange kind of calm seemed to flow over him.

  I wanted to speak to him.

  I wanted to take his hand in mine and thank him. Thank him beyond words for saving my life.

  But I could not. I did not have the courage. So instead, I lifted my trembling hand to my neck. I placed it in the same spot as his injury. Making sure I had his undivided attention, I bowed my head in thanks.

  Flame stilled at my gesture, then, with his nostrils flaring, and his chest heaving, he stepped forward. My heart raced when I thought he was about to climb the stairs and meet me. But after only one step, it was as though something stopped him dead in his tracks.

  My heart fell.

  I could tell he wanted to come to me.

  I could tell that he wanted to speak to me. But like me, it was not that simple.

  Feeling someone come up behind me, my stomach rolled when Flame’s calm demeanor suddenly snapped as he looked over my shoulder. The tortured man I witnessed controlling his rage each night broke back through on a graveled growl.

  “Maddie?” Pastor James called. The sound of the Pastor’s voice and her presence at my side seemed to send Flame over the edge. His eyes clouded with rage. His feet carried him forward. With a threatening menace, his harsh demeanor held the promise of pain.

  Barely breathing, I followed my instincts and ran down the church steps. Flame coming back from wherever he had been in his tortured mind with every step I took towards him.

  AK spoke. “Maddie, we need you to come back with us.”

  Flame was breathing as heavy as if he had been running for endless hours, a sheen of sweat gleaming on his pale, drawn in face.

  Without looking at AK, I nodded my head. AK moved in near Flame and said quietly, “She’s coming back with us, okay? She can ride in the truck with me.”

  Flame stiffened and shook his head, as if what AK had said did not please him. AK inched closer and said, “Look at me, brother.”

  Flame did not remove his gaze from me. AK tried again. “Flame, look at me.” This time Flame did. But it was not a friendly expression.

  AK held his hand over his chest. “Do you trust me? After everything we’ve been through, do you trust me to bring Maddie home safely?”

  Viking moved to AK’s side. I watched as Flame darted his glance between the two. With a visible sag of his shoulders and a long sigh, Flame croaked huskily, “Yeah.”

  AK relaxed. Looking to me he held his hand out in the direction of the truck. I walked forward, but refused the seat in the front of the vehicle, instead choosing to sit in the back.


  Sliding into the seat, I met Flame’s apprehensive stare as he watched me get into the truck and nodded my head, offering an appeasing smile.

  Flame’s lips parted and, as AK slipped into the driver’s seat, Flame ran toward his motorcycle.

  The engine started and, before long, we had pulled out onto the busy road. AK did not say anything to me, but I saw him watching me in the mirror hanging from the truck’s ceiling.

  Wanting to escape his attention, I stared out of the window. When the city gave way to country roads, the roar of a motorcycle sounded beside me. In seconds, Flame sped up until his bike was in parallel to our truck… until his place on his seat was parallel to mine. We remained this way until home.

  As we pulled to a stop, Mae came running from the porch. She was still dressed in her bridesmaid dress, looking as breathtakingly beautiful as always. And as usual, Styx was close behind.

  Reaching my door, Mae pulled it open. Instantly, I saw concern on her face. “Maddie,” she whispered, clearly in relief. “Are you okay?”

  I nodded my head. Taking Mae’s outstretched hand, I let her pull me from the truck and onto the grass. Mae wrapped her arm around my shoulders and began to lead me toward the cabin. But as we passed Styx, I saw him glaring at Flame, his hands moving in rapid movements. I did not speak the hand language that Styx, Mae and most of the men did, but I could tell that he was angry at Flame.

  “Styx. Prez—” I heard Viking try to speak to Styx, but clearly Styx had cut him off.

  Mae kept pushing me forward, but the memory of Flame’s face when he had seen me exit the church, his body weak with injury, and his face pale, caused me to stop dead.

  Whatever the reason was, he had put his recovery aside to save me from something he viewed as a threat. I exhaled.

  He should not be getting punished.

  “Maddie? What is wrong?” Mae said from beside me. Stepping out of Mae’s protective arm, I turned. As soon as I did, a tired looking Flame stood near me. Styx was still talking with his hands, but Flame watched me as I took a hesitant step forward. His dark eyes widened as I continued to slowly, and apprehensively, approach. His hands at his sides clenched, and his jaw became rigid with tension.