My Maddie Read online Tillie Cole (Hades Hangmen #8)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Biker, Crime, MC, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Hades Hangmen Series by Tillie Cole
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Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102136 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
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I stared down at my hands. I’d picked him up. I’d picked him up and cradled him, like Mama did. I stopped walking and just looked at my palms. My vision went burry. I could see Isaiah in my arms. He was breathing badly. His skin was red. He was hot. His eyes were funny, glazed over. I rocked my body back and forth like Mama used to do… “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star…” I heard a gasp and I lifted my head. Maddie was watching me. She was still crying. My hands were still up in the air. I could still see Isaiah in my arms. “How I wonder what you are…” I kept singing. My throat hurt. I thought I was hurting Isaiah. But Maddie said I didn’t, that the flames in my blood weren’t evil. They were bursts of light. They existed to lead me from the darkness—away from my Poppa. Maddie said God had put them there, not because I was evil, but to chase away evil, to chase away Poppa and Pastor Hughes, and the snakes they put on my skin. Maddie said Poppa was a wicked and cruel man.

“He hurt me,” I told Isaiah.

“Baby,” Maddie whispered.

I looked down at Isaiah, who was still cradled in my arms. “He hurt me. He always hurt me. He pushed inside me. He made me cry. He brought snakes to me. He made me release the flames.” I looked at the scars on my arms under Isaiah’s little body. Maddie said the flames didn’t have to be released anymore. That I would feel better with them inside. If I let them, they would scare all the badness away. They were flames of good, not bad. Like Moses. Like Moses and the burning bush. My mama used to tell me about that story. Maybe she knew too? Maybe she knew the flames weren’t bad.

I remembered my mama’s voice. “Moses saw that though the bush was on fire, it did not burn up.” The sound of mama’s voice in my head made me feel better. She always made me feel better. I looked down at Isaiah. “I thought I had killed her,” I confessed, thinking of when I held her hand. “She died. I thought I had taken her away from us.” I felt the flames in my blood, bubbling under my skin. My jaw clenched. But I let the flames burn. I let them burn. I breathed and I waited for the pain to come. Maddie said I didn’t have to release them…

… it did not burn up…

I gasped and dropped to my knees. The flames. I felt them. They were rushing through my veins. “They’re not evil. The flames are good.” I studied the veins in my arms. They burned, but they didn’t hurt. I breathed easier. They didn’t hurt. The flames carried away the evil from Poppa. God took you away, so you were spared from poppa’s evil. You were spared from a man who would seek to do you harm. In death, you received protection… you were granted peace…

My body felt weak. My arms ached. My legs throbbed. Isaiah was looking up at me. “I’m sorry,” I rasped. A teardrop fell on his chest. “I’m sorry,” I repeated. Isaiah began to disappear. “Goodbye…” I whispered. My chest felt too tight. I saw my Poppa’s face in my mind. He hurt me. He hurt Isaiah. He hurt Asher... He even hurt Maddie. “Goodbye,” I repeated, and Isaiah completely vanished. My body shook. It vibrated with fucking rage. Hot anger filled all my muscles.

Throwing back my head, I screamed. I fucking screamed and sank my hands into the soil. Poppa did this. Poppa fucking hurt us all. Isaiah left us, because Poppa was bad. I was fucked up, because Poppa was bad. Ash… my head snapped to the side. He was watching me. He was fucked up too. Then all the rage left me with one single look at Maddie. One hand was over her mouth… and the other was over her stomach. Her baby—our baby… like Isaiah. I turned my head to look at the river. Isaiah was put in there. Poppa and the pastor scattered his ashes into the water.

I pushed to my feet and walked to the edge of the water. Isaiah was out there somewhere. God received Isaiah’s soul, but his body was in this water. “Isaiah,” I whispered then walked into the edge of the water. I dropped to my knees. I pushed my hands into the water, then into the mud beneath. “Goodbye,” I whispered. I cupped the water in my hands and poured it over my face and head. “In death, you received protection… you were granted peace…”

Isaiah would no longer be red hot and in agony. He was happy with mama. He wouldn’t be crying, he’d be laughing. His breathing would be normal, and he’d be with mama. She would be happy too. There would be no blood on her wrists. I poured the water over my head and face and arms. She would be at peace too. Isaiah and mama would be granted peace. They would receive rest.



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