Beyond Redemption (Marked Series Book 2)

by Jesse Lorenzo

  “Oh, well, I still have my tough days that I have to fight through just to make it to the end. On those days, I come here. This place always puts me at peace. My grandmother used to bring me here for mass. I guess this is what gave my mom and dad the idea for my name.”

  Giddeon leaned back and studied her face. He wanted to make sure she wasn’t making it up for his benefit. No. There’s no way she’d do that. She was brutally honest. Plus, Dominick didn’t even know that this was the church his mother attended until he’d given him the address that very morning. “My mother used to bring me to mass here, too. Every Wednesday and Sunday, without fail.” Giddeon grasped the beloved rosary and kissed it unconsciously. Glancing down with nothing but devotion for the precious reminder, he rubbed it lovingly between his rough, calloused hands. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still visualize his beautiful mother clutching the very same beads in her delicate hands.

  The action caught Eva’s attention. “Is that hers? It’s beautiful.” Reaching out, she lightly fondled the artfully crafted beads that hung low on his chest.

  Giddeon gasped, unsure of how to take her sudden response. He wouldn’t have dared let anyone else in the world touch them. Before he could figure out how he felt about that, she let them go and gazed up at him. Her beautiful blue eyes stole away his breath.

  “What are you doing in here, Giddeon? You look like you’re having a day that rivals mine. What’s up?” Her voice was a soft whisper, but the grand empty cathedral still managed to bounce her words around the immense archways in the massive sanctuary. For a moment, he hesitated. He had always hated talking outside of the confessional, like all of the statues were staring at him... Judging him. Their eyes always seemed to find you anywhere in the room.

  Taking a deep breath in, he ran his hands through his floppy hair. Her eyes darted all over his face attentively, ready to listen. Her concern touched him in a dark forgotten place in his heart. “I… I always come here. Every year. On the same day.”

  Giddeon had hoped that she’d pick up on the not so subtle hint, but her confusion was written in her raised brow and curious expression, so he pressed on. “This is the anniversary of their murders. I always feel close to my mother when I’m here. This time is different, though. Today is different.”

  Giddeon stopped the story right there. He just didn’t know how to reiterate everything he’d found out that morning. His mouth opened and shut several times before he gave up and faced forward. She wouldn’t want to know. His life was utterly depressing and pathetic. Why did she keep looking at him like he was worth something more? She shouldn’t be hanging out with a dangerous monster like him. He’d just drag her down into his despair.

  Eva bit her lip in concentration. She waited for an unknown amount of time for him to finish, but he never did. His brokenness tugged at her heart, causing it to ache with a deep sadness for him. “What is so different about this time, Giddeon? We are all alone in here. You can trust me.”

  The reluctant man shook his head defiantly. “No. You don’t want to know any more about my fucked up life. It’s better if you don’t. You shouldn’t even be sitting here with me. You should stay away from me.”

  Eva grabbed hold of his chin and forced him to look at her. “I don’t want to hear you talk like that again. Not to me. I have suffered with my own demons. I still do. I am no better and no worse than you or anyone else.” She leaned in so close, her lips were just a breath away. It caused his nerves to wake up and jump in awareness. She always had this effect on him. His Angel always managed to rouse his dead body with an exhilarating jolt.

  “And neither are you,” she added. “Now, tell me, or I will find a way to dig it out of you. I’m stubborn enough to do it, too.” She lifted a challenging brow. Giddeon definitely believed that statement. “And, besides, I was here first. You came over here and sat down in my pew, remember?” Her lips twitched as they smirked in the most tantalizing way. What a cute little smart ass. He was tempted to bite the arrogant lip that teased him.

  “I guess in that, you’re right. But it is still your fault.” Giddeon looped his finger around a glimmering golden lock, wrapping it around his fingertips.

  Eva looked incredulous at his accusation. “How do you figure that?”

  Giddeon was both shocked and captivated that, unlike every other time he’d played with her hair, she didn’t pull back or yank it away. She let him continue to run his fingers through the waves. Her hair was so soft and silky. He could run his hands through it all day. “It’s not my fault you draw me to you like a beacon. I’m helpless against your pull.”

  He was shocked by the words that just spilled out of his mouth, as if by their own will, while absentmindedly playing with the loose strands. And by the look on his precious Angel’s face, so was she. The same hand that was running through her hair reached up and cupped her blushing cheek, his thumb lightly stroking the pink skin.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh, Giddeon. What are you doing to me?”

  “I’m not doing anything you aren’t already doing to me, Angel,” Giddeon whispered back.

  “That may be true, but I’m not so easily swayed. What has changed? Why is today so different, Giddeon?” The stubborn girl smirked when the man she was helplessly drawn to tugged on the lock of hair he held captive.

  The melancholy figure that sat so close beside her sighed heavily. He turned forward in the pew, away from the prying eyes that captivated him. Eva was disappointed when their shared connection had switched off, following his shift in position.

  Giddeon was once again cold and expressionless. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and show him what love could feel like. That was so incredibly messed up, because she was supposed to be helping him, but she couldn’t stop imaging what it would be like to wrap herself around him. To feel his weight as it came down on hers.

  Against all her warnings and self-promises, Eva was in serious danger of falling for Giddeon Cane. She shook her head of those dangerous thoughts. They were definitely not helping right then.

  “Dominick and I went to the prison to interview one of Dalton’s ex-employees to see if he had any idea where he might be hiding himself.” There was an incredibly long pause. Something significant must’ve happened, because Giddeon was struggling with himself, trying hard to keep his composure. He clenched his hands together in tight fists and rested them on the pew in front of him.

  Eva’s heart broke for him when he dipped his head low. He was breaking. This wasn’t good. Eva went against the screaming in her head that urged her to listen and keep her distance. Instead, she went with her breaking heart and wrapped her arms around him, placing tender kisses along his throbbing temple. He stiffened under her delicate embrace. She somehow brought him out of his thoughts and back to his current reality.

  “He… he was one of the men there that day. He was there, Eva. After all these years I’ve waited to come face to face with one of these bastards, and I just walked away. I have planned for years what I’d do if I ever got a chance to get my hands on one of them.” Eva was taken aback when he turned his glare on her. His eyes had dilated all the way, appearing unnaturally black, giving him a frighteningly demonic expression. The void of color, warmth, and light raised goosebumps on her trembling arms.

  He turned, facing her, and stared unblinking down at her. “I should’ve killed him right there. I should’ve punched my blade into his gutless flesh and spilled his blood all over the dirty floor, just as they had done to my parents, but… I… I just couldn’t. I froze. Just like all those years ago, I froze and did nothing. I’m a worthless coward. They should’ve ripped me wide open and exposed me for the weakling that I am, and just let me die along with them. I deserve it. They didn’t.”

  The stranger sitting next to her finally tore his gaze away from her and ducked his head. This was the raw emotion she was trying to get out of him in group, and now that she’d seen it, she immediately wanted to amend it. She
wasn’t surprised that he blamed himself. But, her heart ached to hear him say it, longing to comfort him.

  “Giddeon. You were only six years old. What could you do? You survived. That’s what your parents would have wanted, and that’s what kind and loving parents are supposed to do… protect their children.” Giddeon snapped his head up at her. His murderous glare startled her for a brief second as it cut right through her mid-sentence. She stopped talking.

  “They would never have wanted me to survive if they laid eyes on me now, saw who I truly am. If they’d witnessed the things I’ve done...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large dagger.

  “I. Am. A. Monster.”

  For some absurd reason, Eva wasn’t scared. She should have been, but she wasn’t. Looking down at the deadly object in his palm, she couldn’t help but ask, “What’s that for, Giddeon?”

  The now unrecognizable man sitting next to her glowered at the deadly weapon in his hands. “This is the dagger they used to gut my parents.”

  Eva regarded the terrifyingly intimidating piece, then reluctantly asked, “Why… why do you have this, Giddeon? Why would you carry that around with you?”

  Turning it over several times, he ran his fingers along the faded emblem on the handle. “I just stood there. As my parents’ souls were savagely ripped out long before their time, I... I just stood there and did nothing.” Giddeon fondled the sharp edge of the blade, pressing it into the roughened pad of his fingertip.

  “One of the men stalked over to where I lay hidden, and presented this dagger to me. It was covered in their blood. He challenged me to avenge them. He actually grabbed my hand and placed it in my palm. Even with the weapon, I still did nothing. Like a coward, I just laid there, frozen on the spot.

  “I’ve kept this dagger with me every single day since then, to remind me that my hesitation and fear is what killed my parents. Not those men. I should’ve fought them… I should’ve done something. Instead, I just sat there and watched.”

  Eva’s eyes were tearing up. This man had suffered so much. “Giddeon, no matter what you’ve built up in your mind... You. Where. Only. Six. Giddeon, you were a child, and you suffered far worse than they did. You had to watch. You’ve had to carry this unbelievable burden around with you as you grew. No one has been in your corner to support you. You’ve been living in a real life nightmare that you can’t seem to dig yourself out of. None of this has been your fault. You were just a child. It is very obvious that you are suffering from PTSD.”

  “Isn’t that like what men in the armed forces get after war?” Giddeon forced out, incredulous.

  Eva nodded. “You are a danger to others and most importantly yourself. Because of your neglected childhood, you were never diagnosed. You’ve never had someone in your corner looking out for you. It’s never too late to seek help. It’s never too late to start living your life, Giddeon. I am here for you. I will help you in any way that I can.”

  “What makes you think I have that?” The denial was on his face and clear in his tone.

  “Oh, I know you have that.” Eva shot him a ‘just try and argue with me’ look. “Anyone can suffer from PTSD. It’s a mental health condition triggered by seeing or experiencing a terrifying event. You show all the signs—you experience terrible nightmares, flashbacks, aggression, and self-destructive behavior. And you’d have to be Superman if you didn’t after everything you’ve suffered through.”

  Giddeon shook his head in disbelief. “Then cure me. You’ve solved the mystery, Velma. Where’s my magical blue pill that will turn my fucked up world into shining rainbows? Hook me up.”

  Eva blew out a frustrated breath and mentally prepared herself for a battle of wills. Most of the group members she’d come into contact with acted like this when someone said they could help. Life’s cruel events were the root of their extreme skepticism.

  “This is a condition that can’t be cured, but treatment can help you. Keep going to group therapy sessions, and have a doctor properly diagnose you so he can prescribe the proper medication to help you. It will get better with time. I will stand by you, through it all, Giddeon. Whether you want me to or not.” Eva lifted a challenging brow and smirked at the hard-headed man.

  “What if I don’t want to be cured? What if I feel the most in control when I’m…? What did you call it again? Oh, yeah, self-destructive and violent. What if I’m just twisted? Simple as that. Better get used to that, Angel. Some people can’t be patched up good as new by a doctor’s note and talking to a group of strangers.”

  Eva once again captured his full attention by climbing up onto his lap, straddling him. “Oh, Giddeon, that’s where you are so wrong.” She grabbed his face roughly with both hands and forcefully lifted his head, so he had nowhere else to look but in her eyes. She would get through to him. She didn’t care how she had to do it, or how unorthodox the method. He deserved to finally start living his life. He deserved peace.

  “You don’t have control. You never did. That’s an illusion you’ve let yourself believe after all this time. Those monsters have you trapped in the prison they’ve created for you. They are the ones who’ve had control all along, ever since that day. They have controlled you all your life.”

  Giddeon’s face hardened in her hands, growing rigid with anger. “No. No one controls me...”

  Eva shocked her dark warrior by softly kissing his mouth, successfully shutting him up. “Giving up on life… allowing the grief and unbearable guilt you feel take over you like this, is exactly what those monsters wanted. The moment you gave in to your despair and let it wreck your own life, they won. They have ultimate control over you when you let that happen. Don’t you see that? I know it feels better in the heat of the moment to give in to your anger, to give in to the beast that seduces you into releasing the pain temporarily… But it is catastrophic to the spirit. It imprisons you.

  “Getting past that guilt and grief is the hardest thing you’ll ever have to do. But, once done, the incredible feeling you get from it is freeing. Only then will you have ultimate control over your life. I know it seems impossible now, but once you hit rock bottom, you can only go up from there.”

  Once again, she softly placed a feather-light kiss on his frozen lips, then got up abruptly. Reaching out her hands to her wounded warrior, she silently beckoned him to follow her.

  Still in shock from the unexpected kiss, Giddeon’s body stood on its own accord and sidled up next to his very own guardian angel. “Where are we going?”

  Eva tugged on his hand and marched down the aisle and out the doors. “We are going to my place. I’m making you dinner. How long has it been since you’ve had a home cooked meal?”

  Giddeon struggled with that question. He thought hard, wanting to prove her wrong by coming up with an answer, but couldn’t.

  “That’s what I thought. C’mon. My place is right across the street.”

  After Dominick dropped off Giddeon, he made a bee-line for Susan’s place of residence. He had looked it up, hoping to catch her before she went into work, knowing that her every move was probably being watched while they were there. She would most likely feel safer talking to him in the comfort of her own home. He knew she was aware of Dalton’s whereabouts, and he needed to dig it out of her. Dominick grew more and more anxious to find him. How many more lives had he destroyed? His malicious intent seemed unending.

  Exhausted, he pulled up to her tiny townhome. The heavy SUV crunched the loose gravel of the unpaved driveway as he came to a stop. Blowing out a weary breath, the detective pulled the keys out of the ignition. It was now or never. Skipping up the stone steps and jingling his keys anxiously, the on-edge detective rang the bell. He said a silent prayer that the scared woman wouldn’t slam the door in his face, and that she’d tell him what he wanted to know.

  Light footsteps padded closer to the door, and after a long pause, heavy deadbolts were pushed aside and a chain-lock removed. The door opened a hairline crack, and a pair of scared,
beautiful eyes peered out at him. It took Dominick a minute to realize that the woman standing before him was, in fact, Susan.

  She looked like a completely different person. Her hair, no longer in a smooth, tight, up do, hung in loose waves down her back. The laid back style looked like she had just come back from a carefree day at the beach. She had on a fitted t-shirt and purposely torn and faded jeans. This down to earth persona called out to him in an unsettling way.

  To say that Dominick appreciated this look on her was an understatement.

  “Detective Antonelli? How can I help you?” She nervously inspected up and down both sides of the street. Her stance shifted from one foot to the other, obviously worried about being caught talking to the detective.

  “I have some more questions I want to ask, and I figured it was safer for you if I came here, instead of showing up at Dalton’s high-rise… again. May I come in?”

  The distrustful girl asked, “You… you didn’t bring Giddeon here… did you?”

  Dominick shook his head. “No. I would never do that.”

  She hesitated for a brief moment, biting her lip, then stepped aside. She opened the door wide enough to let him pass, and then quickly closed it behind him, locking the dead bolts back up as if by trained habit. This woman lived her life in constant fear. Dominick realized that she must’ve witnessed horrifying occurrences while working as Dalton’s secretary.

  “Could I get you something to drink? Some coffee?” Susan motioned for the detective to follow her lead.

  Dominick nodded and followed the beautiful but edgy girl as she padded barefoot into her elegant kitchen. Unable to help himself, he appreciated the way her tight jeans hugged every curve affectionately, and the glimpse of soft flesh revealed through the scattered tatters that worked their way up each thigh.

  “That’d be great, Susan. Thank you.” She motioned for him to sit at the quaint little kitchenette table as she went about preparing his coffee.