• 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 •

chapter six

! trigger warnings !

- subtle mentions of sexual assault towards minors **not in detail**

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COLE

I didn't expect this.

When I saw that man on top of her, anger like I'd never known before overcame me, and I was about to march right over there and stab him continuously in the most painful yet non-lethal areas so he could be flooded with as much agony as humanly possible, drawing out his torture for ages.

Nobody hurts my angel.

Why do I want to protect this girl with all my life?

It all went too fast. She grabbed that strangely sharp barrette while he was touching her and she slit his throat while I was still rushing over.

I paused as I stood in the rain, watching her crawl back, a sobbing-scream broke through her as the man's body collapses.

It was worse pain than any other stab or injury to watch her suffer like that, she didn't deserve that.

It made me think of myself. But it was her first kill, of course. A normal person would've acted that after taking away someone's life.

It was accidental, she probably only meant to hurt him, not be the cause of his inevitable demise. (If it weren't her, it'd be me who would bring his soul to the end of his worthless life.)

She stands up on wobbly legs and I remember my first kill, it was my own shithead of a mother.

She was a junkie, doing anything to pay for her beloved drugs. Even if that meant selling off her children, she did it.

I bite my lip harshly to remind me I'm here, I'm not back on those godforsaken streets and I dig my gloved fingers into my palms, the sting ridding me of the memories of what happened to my siblings, I did everything to protect them.

Daisy and Duke. They were twins, only eight years old when I was fifteen.

Lisa—my mom—was getting old and her clients wouldn't come back anymore so she started selling me off to be fucked, with the threat that if I didn't do it, my siblings would go instead.

Those were the worst days of my life. But, I don't regret it, not if doing that had saved Daisy and Duke, if only for a short period of time.

One day when I was out stealing food because Lisa didn't bother buying anything, she gave away my siblings to pedophiles.

They didn't come back alive. I still remember their small, frail corpses laid roughly on our doorstep.

Safe to say I stabbed my own mother that day. Over fifty times according to a short article in a newspaper.

The police didn't bother with a further investigation on a poor, drug-addicted prostitute though.

I close my eyes and count to ten, taking deep breaths so I don't start committing mass murder everywhere just to feel something and rid myself of these pathetic feelings that I don't have the right to. After all, they died, not me.

As I finally gain control of myself, I slowly walk over to comfort my little raven, the way nobody would have ever comforted me before.

—

"Shh." I whisper as softly as I can to the vulnerable girl in my arms, "It's okay, baby, let it all out, just cry on my shirt, it's fine."

I look over her to see the body of the man she just killed. He was going to die either way but I can see how this hurt her.