The Wrath of Sin Page 2

  “It’s enough when you get off your ass. You have to have faith.”

  I barked a laugh and turned murderous eyes on her. “Faith? Are you fucking kidding me right now? Do you honestly believe that after everything that’s happened, I’d have any trust in faith or God?”

  She looked sad as she said, “There was nothing that could be done, Jax. The hospital, the doctors… they did everything they could for her.”

  “I’m calling fucking bullshit on that! Her life was in the hands of a greedy doctor with a God complex and zero give-a-fucking-damn.”

  “So you’re saying they let her die? Why? Because of money? Power? Ego?”

  “Yes! All of the above, damn it! They dragged their damn feet during her entire stay there. They only talked about money and how much everything was going to cost. They could’ve saved her. They were just too blinded by the damn dollar signs in their eyes to do anything worth saving her life.”

  “They can’t do that, Jax. It’s unethical.”

  “Do you honestly think they care about ethics? It’s only about the money, the power, and the ego.”

  “They want to save lives. That’s how they make the money that feeds their ego and gives them power.”

  I frowned. There was something about what she said that sparked something inside my head, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It teased the surface of my thoughts as I tried to grasp whatever it was, but I couldn’t.

  I shook away the feeling and sat up, trapping my head between my hands. “It doesn’t matter. She’s dead and there’s nothing I can say or do that’s going to change that. There’s also nothing you can say or do that’ll change this, so please stop trying, Constance. I’m a death trap and you’re better off staying as far away as you possibly can.”

  I knew she was crying, and I hated myself for making her so upset, but it had to be that way. I was quickly spiraling into a black hole of nothingness and I wasn’t about to bring her with me.

  I stood up and turned away from the only person left who could actually love the monster I was becoming. I walked away from her because she was dangerous to my emotions, because every time I looked into her sad face, I wanted to live again, and I didn’t want that.

  “Go away, Constance. I don’t want to see you right now.” Probably ever again. “So stop trying to save me and stop trying to clean up my mess. Just go away.”

  I walked into my bedroom and slammed the door on her.

  4

  Sin

  Nightmares haunted my sleep as I tossed and turned, tangling myself in sweaty sheets. Rain pounded on my window, and I looked over at the alarm clock. It was only two in the morning.

  Reliving every one of Chelsea’s lasts, including her last breath, had become a tortured nightly ritual. I hated sleeping because everything seemed so real in my nightmares, but the terror that woke me was different than the usual.

  I blamed Constance’s visit for the new nightmare. It had to be her visit. I lived every day the same. Alcohol. Sleep. Depression. Her visiting me was the only thing different that happened in weeks.

  I’d dreamt that Chelsea was standing in front of me, pleading with me not to kill her. Her tiny toes were painted pink as they peeked out from under her white nightgown. Tears slid down her baby-soft cheeks and turned to puddles of blood covering her pink toes and surrounding her small feet.

  I woke calling out to her with the taste of blood in my mouth. I’d bitten my tongue during all the tossing and turning. With my heart pounding at a dangerous speed and sweat beading at my hairline before running down my face, I jumped out of my bed.

  I barely made it to the bathroom before my stomach rolled and I lost everything for the second time. I couldn’t move so I sat there with my head in the toilet.

  Ten minutes later, I pushed myself up from the cold tile floor and rinsed out my mouth.

  I’m going insane, I thought as I splashed icy cold water on my face.

  The reflection of a man I didn’t recognize stared back at me and I wished I felt something, anything, toward him. I’d aged years over the last few months. Wrinkles no twenty-eight-year-old man should have dug into my skin.

  My eyes, dull and pale, looked sunken in and wore permanent black smudges. My once-tanned skin was pasty and hidden behind a face full of hair. I couldn’t look at myself any longer and flipped the light switch, instantly incased in darkness.

  Lying back in my bed, I kicked away the damp sheets and blankets. The blades of the fan above me spun on high, and the noise reminded me of the hospital machines. I closed my eyes against the memories, but they played on behind my eyelids, over and over.

  Some of my worst memories revolved around the hospital. I’d spent night and day there. The nurses even set up a cot for me at the end of Chelsea’s bed. I woke up with her every time they had to prick and poke her or run another test.

  I’d gladly take those memories over the last day any day, but that final day was the one that haunted me the most. It stayed in front of my mind and replayed over and over again throughout the day.

  My daughter died at nine fifty on Thursday, January 1st. Happy New Year to me. What should have been a day to celebrate a new beginning, was the worst day of my life.

  She was being prepped to be moved to another hospital for what was supposed to be her final surgery. It was the surgery that was supposed to allow her to go home, but she never made it out of the bed she’d lain in for the last few weeks of her life. She died in the hospital room that was our home, surrounded by pictures she spent most of her time painting.

  My heart knocked against my chest as I reached over and grabbed my wallet off the table beside my bed. Flipping it open, I pulled out my favorite of all her paintings. She’d painted her and me at the beach.

  The doctors swore there was nothing they could’ve done, but I knew that was a damn lie. They could’ve given her the surgery earlier, but they insisted that my insurance wouldn’t cover the procedure.

  Insurance. Money. It made the world go ‘round. Doctors were greedy bastards who put their wallets before the lives of others. That was the reason we had to wait to be moved to another hospital for her surgery.

  They want to save lives! Constance said before, and her words sparked something inside me that I couldn’t place. They sat in my gut and simmered, were still simmering.

  I closed my eyes, squeezing them until white spots formed and all I could hear was their voices in the hall. It was the day before the transfer the attending cardiologist said was necessary. But Mr. Super Cardiologist was just a money-grubbing piece of shit.

  It hadn’t been a good day for Chelsea; she’d felt particularly bad and she was exhausted by time the nurses left her to sleep. I stayed with her until she’d fallen asleep before stumbling over to my cot, laying my head down. I knew that no matter how tired I felt, Chelsea was feeling it a million times more.

  The cardiologist came in to check on her and assured me that I didn’t need to get up. He’d said it was a routine checkup to get her ready for transfer the following day.

  I waited until he was out of them room before I let my eyes shut, but I remember hearing him talk to a doctor just outside the door. Sleep begged me to let go and even as I heard the words, I’d forgotten them until now.

  “How is she, Steven?”

  “She’s a fighter. She’ll need the surgery and soon.”

  “Are you going to preform it?”

  “Unfortunately, I’ve reached my pro bono limit for the year. We’re transferring her tomorrow.”

  I started to feel lightheaded and I lifted my knees, dropping my head between them. I covered my ears, trying to hide from the ringing raging through the silence.

  I’ve reached my pro bono limit. I’ve reached my pro bono limit. I’ve reached my pro bono limit. His words spun through my head until I felt like I was going to be sick again.

  I didn’t know exactly what that meant, but my gut was telling me I wasn’t going to like the answer. I was angry wit
h myself for being too tired to ignore what had been right in front of my face. Could I have saved her if only I had paid attention? Was I as much to blame for her death as he was?

  It wasn’t until I heard the crinkle of paper that I realized my hands had balled into fists and I was crushing the picture in my palm.

  I smoothed out the painting, holding it so I could study the detail—the beach, her long blond hair, and how intricately she’d painted my smile. She could’ve been an artist. She could’ve been anything she wanted, but now she was a memory.

  The corner of the paper melted and it caught me off guard as I ran my thumb over the wet spot. I realized it was my tears that were falling uncontrollably. My body shook with my sobs, but the rain drowned out the noise.

  I couldn’t stop them, and I told myself I wasn’t breaking my promise because I wasn’t crying over what was. I was crying over what would never be.

  5

  Sin

  I lay in bed until the sun cut through a tiny hole in one of my worn curtains. My mind was running a mile a minute and I couldn’t stop reliving that night in the hospital and what they’d said.

  I wasn’t sure what I planned on doing with this newfound memory, but I couldn’t find it in me to just let it go. Justice needed to be served and how that was going to be done, I wasn’t sure.

  Crawling out of my bed, I went to the refrigerator and pulled it open. Bottles clinked together and echoed throughout the kitchen. For the first time, I was starving, but there was nothing in my apartment but beer and liquor.

  Going back to my bedroom, I reached down and grabbed a dirty shirt from the floor. Giving it a quick sniff, I decided it wasn’t too bad and pulled it over my head. My jeans were covered in black smudges and the shirt had a few stains, but I pulled on my hoodie and went for the door.

  I stood there in front of it, almost feeling nervous to leave, to join the outside world again. In a way it felt like I was accepting she was gone. I hadn’t left the apartment since her funeral and the days of the week had begun to blur, so who knew how long ago that had been? Taking a deep breath, I pulled open the door.

  Once I was outside, the sun blinded me and I coughed around the fresh air that filled my lungs. It felt unnatural to be in the light where people walked by and smiled like life was good. It wasn’t—life fucking sucked.

  My car wouldn’t crank at first, and I knew it was because I hadn’t driven it in the last few weeks. Finally, on the third try it started and I pulled out of my parking space and into traffic. I drove with the purpose of finding the closest anything with food. Pulling into the drive-thru of McDonalds, I ordered, paid, and took my meal.

  On the drive home, I tried to focus on the road only, ignoring the people around me, but I couldn’t. I watched them move like herds on the sidewalks. People of every shape, size, and color. Families, women and men dressed in every kind of attire. Every one of them oblivious to the war of hate and grief raging inside me.

  I jerked when I saw a flash of a familiar face in the crowd and swerved my car. The sound of squealing breaks, blaring horns, and angry shouts followed behind me as I pulled into an underground parking garage.

  I didn’t have the time to find a parking spot, so I stopped the car in the middle of the garage lane. Putting it in park, I bolted. On the sidewalk, I searched in the direction that he’d been going until I spotted the back of his head.

  It was him. It was Chelsea’s cardiologist, and it was fate that I’d see him again. I had a few choice words and a fist waiting for him.

  Pushing my way through the maze of people, I ignored their aggravated shouts as I shoved off of them. I stepped on toes and fell against the glass of an Italian restaurant, prompting the diners to look at me with crazy eyes, but I didn’t care. I felt nothing.

  As I approached him, he was busy talking on his phone. I wasted no time as I roughly grabbed him by the arm and spun him around, pushing him into the wall and pressing my arm across his chest, my fist aimed and ready.

  The man’s face froze in alarm and fear, and the phone dropped from his hands as they flew up to protect himself from my blow. Adrenaline was coursing through my body, clouding my vision, and it took a minute for me to realize he wasn’t who I thought he was. My crazy mind was playing tricks on me.

  He didn’t say anything as he watched me lower my arm and let go of his shirt. A crowd of shocked passersby gathered around us and I was sure one of them had probably already called the police.

  “I’m sorry,” I mumbled, disappearing into the crowd toward my car.

  “Hey, buddy, what the hell are you doing? You can’t park here,” the attendant snapped when I reached the garage where I’d left my car.

  I didn’t respond as I climbed in and got the hell out of there.

  6

  Sin

  My mind was buzzing as I walked into my apartment building and through the lobby. I stopped when I spotted the ancient desktop computer and the sign that said free use for tenants.

  Sitting at the desk, I turned on the screen. Slightly annoyed, I walked to the manager’s office to receive the login info I needed to access the internet. When I was finally online, I opened up the browser and began typing. It didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for. The magic of the internet. Their slogan should be, Making stalking possible since 1973.

  I scribbled down what I needed on the paper at the desk and closed out the page. My chair scuffed against the floor as I got up and made my way to my apartment.

  Inside, I devoured my food, often forgetting to chew. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I finally had something solid inside of me. I was hoping having a full stomach was going to help me think clearly, but no such luck.

  I stared at the piece of paper in my hands until the letters and numbers blurred together. I didn’t know what I was going to do with the info, but I knew I had to see him again.

  Energy and motivation was my only friend at the moment, and I leaned on its shoulder to get up and take a shower. Constance was right; I did smell like old man ass.

  The hot water felt fucking great against my skin, and I stayed under its spray for nearly an hour before it started to run cold. Finishing up, I pushed open the curtain and ran a towel over my body. I rubbed the towel over my hair, then hung it around my neck and walked naked into the room.

  It was getting dark, but I wanted to skip sleep. I was too anxious about the following day, but mostly because I wanted to sidestep the nightmares. However, it’d been so long since I’d been this productive that I felt exhausted, and the minute my head hit the pillow I was out.

  I dreamt of him. He was begging for my forgiveness in utter fear on his knees in front of me. It wasn’t my forgiveness he needed; it was Chelsea’s, and it was his own fault that he’d never get it.

  I was going to be his death and I’d have no mercy as I wrapped my hands around his neck. Everything grew dark and then there was a moment of doubt as I watched the life fade from his pale face. Suddenly, I heard her calling my name and I froze.

  Looking up, I saw Chelsea standing behind him, watching me, watching the monster I’d become. Her eyes sparkled with confusion and she looked so tiny, so fragile standing there bathed in a soft golden glow. She was the epitome of everything pure and innocent and good.

  She’d been the one to keep me sane and happy. She’d made me a better man, but without her, there was nothing redeemable left in me. He’d taken her away and now he was left to face the consequences of that.

  “Close your eyes, baby girl. Don’t watch Daddy,” I told her softly, and then she was gone and so was my doubt.

  I looked down at him and finished what I started.

  7

  Sin

  I woke up entirely too early to do anything I’d planned for the day, so I decided to clean up some of the bottles littered around the room. An hour and four trash bags later, I was finally finished. It was an improvement, but it still looked like a shithole.

  I gathered some lau
ndry and started a load of laundry in the stackable washer and dryer hidden in the small storage closet. It wasn’t much, but it was something and that was all that mattered.

  I checked the clock and sighed in relief when I realized it was time. I’d kept myself busy long enough not to go insane with impatience. I grabbed my hoodie and zipped it up on my way out the door.

  I made it to the right house just in time to see the man I was there for getting into his car. I followed him.

  When he parked, I parked across the street so I wouldn’t be seen. Luckily for me, I was parked right beside a liquor store. As long as I was there, why not kill two birds with one stone?

  Customers looked at me like I was crazy, and the guy behind the cash register seemed tense when I threw my bottles onto the counter. I’m sure I looked dangerous. Shit, I felt dangerous. I was minutes away from snapping and burning the world down, and everyone around me could feel it.

  Leaving the store, I put my beer in the car and watched. Across the street was a dry cleaner, and the expensive car that belonged to the man who’d recently been a part of my worst nightmares was still parked right out front.

  I stood on the curb and watched as the man who took everything from me talked on his phone and exited the cleaners. My feet were rooted to the cement and I felt as if it were rising up around my legs and consuming me.

  I waited as he left the store with a suit hung in plastic. He moved quickly to his car and I moved quickly to mine. I knew in my mind that what I was doing was fucking nuts, but it was as if I were drawn to him, and not in a good way.

  I pulled out behind him and followed closely. Popping the top off one of my bottles, I took a heavy swig. It burned my throat and then my empty stomach. Putting on my blinker, I turned back into the hospital parking lot right behind him. When he parked, I drove by and parked my car farther down.