Page 81 of Shattered Souls

My face crumples and I let myself cry. Not for the lives I’ve taken tonight—and still have to take. No, I cry because I saved us, saved myself. I did what I couldn’t all those years ago.

“Hayze,” She slowly crawls over to me, a trail of red marring the snow behind her. I meet her half way, cradling her warmth into me. “Please,” She looks up at me, a watery and weak smile on those puffy lips. “Say my name again.”

I laugh.

“My Rayvn.” I stroke her hair, not caring that I’m smearing four different blood types through the long strands.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Hayze.” Synn comes to us, sitting behind Rayvn.

I free my hands and sign to him, my throat already begging me to stop, “It’s going to take more than a bullet to get rid of me.” He smiles, pats my unharmed shoulder, and stands.

He grabs one of the discarded guns and without an ounce of remorse, ends the lives of each other man. Rayvn jumps at each echo of gunfire. When he returns, he offers to take her inside. As much as I want to hold her close to me forever, I agree.

He takes her thin body and heads inside.

It takes me a while to get off the ground. I spend too long looking around at the various bodies in the snow. Each and every one of them came here to harm us, to take our woman and maim us to do so.

I look at the gore surrounding the bodies, the red tainted snow covering the majority of the scare park. This is gonna be a bitch to clean.

I finally drag myself inside, the warmth cascading over my chilled skin. Rayvn’s sitting on the metal table in our fun room, her shirt hanging around her neck. Synn is collecting an assortment of things to clean and stitch her wound.

“Should we deal with the bodies?” I sign to Synn. He shakes his head.

“We’re leaving as soon as I patch her up.” He looks me up and down. “Maybe you too.”

27

Seek

“You’re doing good, little scarecrow.” I continue my praise as I tug on the thread currently sliding through the muscles on her back. She’s been hissing and groaning, but sitting still for the most part. It’s better than I can say for most of my patients, though she is on a high dose of morphine

“Tell me something. I need a distraction.” She begs. She’s been white knuckling the table the whole time, but slowly her hands have lost strength.

I tug the thread to secure the next knot. My mind swims with the things I want to tell her, admit to her. I land on one, something dear and close to my heart.

“When we were twenty-six, so six years ago now, we found Shattered Souls. It was run down and on the brink of closure. They were holding auditions for new scare actors, looking for a new and hot act to lure in a new demographic.” I pierce her skin and pull the needle through.

“Rick, the owner, oversaw our audition. I thought it would consist of trying to scare someone, but it was more like a modeling gig. We had to stand there shirtless while Rick and a few other people spoke about our appearance.” I laugh at the memory. Hayze complained in sign language while I kept hushing him under my breath.

“Rick took some sort of sympathy on us. To this day, I’m not too sure why. I think it was a mix of the bags under our eyes and the way I sighed every time I had to translate Hayze’s speech. But he offered us the living quarters under the park.” She winces as I tie the next knot.

“We’ve lived here since. Some days, we wouldn’t even speak to one another. With me working on the ambulance and him at the butcher shop, it was conflicting schedules and quick bites before sleep or the next shift.”

I finish the stitches. She only needed five, thankfully, and I start bandaging her.

“You know, watching the two of you together is kind of beautiful.” She laughs and then immediately tenses.

“Oh yeah?” I fix the bandage to her shoulder blade, making sure to slather antibacterial cream on the sewn skin.

“I wanted you at first. You were mean and unavailable, and that made you attractive.” I come around to her front, lifting her shirt off. “The thing is, you both have things I adore. Hayze is sweet and emotional. While you’re tough and firm. I told Hayze, I never wanted to love anyone. It’s a messy path that ends in hurt no matter which lane you take. And I think that tonight was a good example of how quickly things can end.”

I take her face in my hands. The gash on my forearm is rid of any blood, but it’s still red and angry—though it’s superficial. Her eyes jump to the wound, then back to my face.

“What you saw tonight, is exactly why we need to leave, Rayvn. You have two men that are willing to die to get you to safety. Hear me when I say, we’re going to live a peaceful life. It’s only hours away now.”

Hayze comes into the room. He’s bare from the waist up, the hole in his shoulder still leaking crimson.

“Please, tell me you’re going to fix him up too?”