Read Online Faithless #2: A Tainted Love Serial by K.B. Nelson - Free Book Online
Authors: K.B. Nelson
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escaped his lips was that he wanted to burn the church to the ground. I said it before and I’ll say it again—I leave a trail of kerosene everywhere I go and Noah’s a match—always one strike away from an explosion.
But maybe it’s not I who carries the kerosene. Maybe it’s the world, and Noah and I are meant to explode. I can feel it coming—the calm before the storm. There’s something in the air that threatens the space between us.
It’s when we’re faced with illusions of the truth that we’re reminded how fragile our hearts—and egos—really are. The truth is that Luke killed a woman in an accident, and for that, he paid the ultimate price. He paid with his life.
But that doesn’t make it fair. What happened to Ben’s sister was an accident. What happened to Luke was murder. But within the truth, there are always layers. Luke shouldn’t have been behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated, but every decision of his since the night our parents died has been reactionary. That’s the problem with the ‘us vs. the world’ mantra—you’ll always feel at war.
Blame—the biggest factor in the algorithm of guilt. If guilt were a game of Jenga, and blame was the block you decided to pull, the entire tower would come tumbling down.
I blame myself. For leaving. For running. For always losing the battle against the world. Luke needed me. Noah needed me. I needed to be free, and I fear it was my actions that set this chain of events into motion.
I sit on the couch as Noah crosses in front of me. He pulls his shirt over his head and prepares to jump in the shower. I hadn’t noticed them before, but they’re impossible to miss—numerous, nasty scars etched into his back.
I’m horrified, but I don’t dare ask where they’re from. Instead, my mind wonders but comes up with no search results. He walks into the bathroom and slings the door shut without saying a word.
“It’s only going to get harder,” Luke says from the window in front of me.
“Am I dreaming again?”
He smirks. “Are you sleeping?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Come.” He reaches his hand out for me. I glide to my feet and take his hand. “It’s coming.”
“What do you mean?”
He turns his attention to the cityscape in the distance. The sun is rising into the sky, casting light upon half the city while the other half hides in the dark. “It’s not just his soul that’s up for grabs,” he cautions. “We’re coming close to the third act and that’s when you’re going to have to make a choice.”
“Please,” I plead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Shhh.” He places a finger against his mouth. “Listen.”
I do as told and focus on the silence so I can hear anything that breaks through it.
The refrigerator buzzes, but remains lifeless.
The shower runs, the water slamming against the tiled floor.
Noah sings quietly. ‘Searching effortlessly, running through the forest of green. When we reach the blue, we’ll swim away. Hide and seek. You and me.’
The bell at the front door rings. Startled, I jump in place at the sound.
“Everything in life has prepared you for this,” Luke says with a nod.
The bell rings again. “I’m coming,” I mumble. “Jesus.”
I grab the doorknob.
Faintly, I hear Luke speak from behind me. “Good luck, Faith.” So I shift my body to face him. “You’re going to need it.”
Then he’s gone, and more than ever, I’m left wondering what’s really going on. I know I’m not dreaming, and I don’t believe in ghosts. But the alternative is that I’m losing my mind. That’s the most logical answer, but it’s the one I want to believe the least.
I twist the knob and pull the door open. My mouth drops to my feet, and my eyes go wide. I take a long, hard gulp trying to tame my racing heart. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.
I slam the door shut and scream. “Noah!”
----
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But maybe it’s not I who carries the kerosene. Maybe it’s the world, and Noah and I are meant to explode. I can feel it coming—the calm before the storm. There’s something in the air that threatens the space between us.
It’s when we’re faced with illusions of the truth that we’re reminded how fragile our hearts—and egos—really are. The truth is that Luke killed a woman in an accident, and for that, he paid the ultimate price. He paid with his life.
But that doesn’t make it fair. What happened to Ben’s sister was an accident. What happened to Luke was murder. But within the truth, there are always layers. Luke shouldn’t have been behind the wheel of a car while intoxicated, but every decision of his since the night our parents died has been reactionary. That’s the problem with the ‘us vs. the world’ mantra—you’ll always feel at war.
Blame—the biggest factor in the algorithm of guilt. If guilt were a game of Jenga, and blame was the block you decided to pull, the entire tower would come tumbling down.
I blame myself. For leaving. For running. For always losing the battle against the world. Luke needed me. Noah needed me. I needed to be free, and I fear it was my actions that set this chain of events into motion.
I sit on the couch as Noah crosses in front of me. He pulls his shirt over his head and prepares to jump in the shower. I hadn’t noticed them before, but they’re impossible to miss—numerous, nasty scars etched into his back.
I’m horrified, but I don’t dare ask where they’re from. Instead, my mind wonders but comes up with no search results. He walks into the bathroom and slings the door shut without saying a word.
“It’s only going to get harder,” Luke says from the window in front of me.
“Am I dreaming again?”
He smirks. “Are you sleeping?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”
“Come.” He reaches his hand out for me. I glide to my feet and take his hand. “It’s coming.”
“What do you mean?”
He turns his attention to the cityscape in the distance. The sun is rising into the sky, casting light upon half the city while the other half hides in the dark. “It’s not just his soul that’s up for grabs,” he cautions. “We’re coming close to the third act and that’s when you’re going to have to make a choice.”
“Please,” I plead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Shhh.” He places a finger against his mouth. “Listen.”
I do as told and focus on the silence so I can hear anything that breaks through it.
The refrigerator buzzes, but remains lifeless.
The shower runs, the water slamming against the tiled floor.
Noah sings quietly. ‘Searching effortlessly, running through the forest of green. When we reach the blue, we’ll swim away. Hide and seek. You and me.’
The bell at the front door rings. Startled, I jump in place at the sound.
“Everything in life has prepared you for this,” Luke says with a nod.
The bell rings again. “I’m coming,” I mumble. “Jesus.”
I grab the doorknob.
Faintly, I hear Luke speak from behind me. “Good luck, Faith.” So I shift my body to face him. “You’re going to need it.”
Then he’s gone, and more than ever, I’m left wondering what’s really going on. I know I’m not dreaming, and I don’t believe in ghosts. But the alternative is that I’m losing my mind. That’s the most logical answer, but it’s the one I want to believe the least.
I twist the knob and pull the door open. My mouth drops to my feet, and my eyes go wide. I take a long, hard gulp trying to tame my racing heart. I’ve never been more terrified in my life.
I slam the door shut and scream. “Noah!”
----
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