Dear Husband (Sinner's Society:ONE) REWRITING***

Chapter 8(a)

(Alexander)--------->>>>>>>

Song of the Chapter-Seether - Broken ft. Amy Lee

(Two Years ago)

The sun rises in the east.

I'm not sure how old I was when I learned that. Although, it doesn't really matter, does it? It's just an undeniable fact, one I think about those mornings when I sit on the balustraded parapet at eaves level, east facing rooftop and watch the sun peeking out over the greenery, bathing the city in an orange glow, like the streets are on fire.

Some days, it feels like they might be.

It feels like Beaufort is burning and I'm just here, sitting, watching it disintegrate as I breathe in the smoky air, my lungs scorching and chest aching, not doing a goddamn thing to stop it. Because, seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do? Huh? I've yelled 'fire' so many times that nobody even looks my way anymore when they hear me screaming, like I've become nothing but white noise in a crowded city full of overpowering voices.

I'm probably not making any sense to you. It's okay. I don't understand myself anymore most days. I just sit on this parapet and stare out at the fiery horizon as another day dawns, too strong-willed to ever fling myself off the side of this building but yet too damn powerless to ward off my inevitable fall. So I sit, and stare, and wait, and cling to the little bit of hope I wake up with every day, but I don't stop doing it, I don't just give up, because maybe—goddamn it, maybe—I'll find my wings again and get to soar.

Fly the fuck away from all of this.

But until then, I'm just grounded.

Tagged and tracked.

My wings got clipped.

I'm a little caged birdie.

Sighing, I bring the joint to my lips and inhale, taking a puff of scorching smoke into my lungs, holding it, letting it soothe the pain away as it makes my head just a bit more foggy so I stop agonizing about a life I'd once dream of having with the man, right now sleeping in his room with two whores.

Again, you don't get me, right?

Well, last night I've been little disappointed and irritated with myself after I returned from my Client. Disappointed because I couldn't stop feeling jealous and irritated because I liked the idea of Alex not fucking anyone when I'm staying at Gray Manor.

As I park my bike in the driveway and take off my helmet two of Alex's goons, who guards the entrance door, are sitting on plastic chair and looks my way and nods curry, their eyes always sharp an alert. I smile genuinely at them in return and jog up the stairs of the porch and as silently as possible let myself in. I smile because when I'm here and as long as I'm in Alex's good grace, these guys will protect me from the dangerous things living on the other side of Gray Manor's boundaries.

Pushing open the door I peer in cautiously to see if I can find Alex or Luke to bitch at me for being late again. The Great Hall is silent and empty. Not even the dogs are present. Not even Ours.

I feel a sudden ball of tension wrap up in my chest. I can't exactly place it, but it irritates me as I carefully close the door behind and stroll inside. I go straight to the kitchen, dig into the refrigerator, because damn I'm hungry and my cell phone starts ringing. I pull it from the pocket of my jeans, smiling when I see the name on the display.

"Hey, loser," I keep my voice low, propping the phone between my ear and shoulder while I continue rootle for food.

"Very funny." Leo laughs on the other end of the phone. "Especially since you're still stuck with your dear husband."