The Lost Souls by Madeline Sheehan Read Free Book Online Page B

then in fear of her brother . And finally, in fear of living out the rest of her days alone, dying alone, never having done anything with her life, never having left Elderton.
    Then she laughed at the expression on Marko’s face as he watched her break down, put herself back together only to break down again, sobbing both joyful and devastat ed tears.
    “I think you need more soup,” he muttered, averting his eyes.
    Carrie laughed even harder because—yep, he so thought she was crazy. Maybe she was. Maybe all that time she’d spent locked up in her own mind had driven her over the edge, but she didn’t care because she was warm and her belly was full and—God, thank God—she was no longer alone. She wasn’t alone anymore. There was hope now. Marko, his heated trailer, his food, his clothes—it all added up to hope.
    “Thank you, Marko,” she choked out. “Thank you so much…for saving my life.”
    • • •
    Marko watched the girl lean over the stove, mixing the dried vegetables into the already boiling pasta with shaking hands. He felt bad. No, he felt more than bad. She was seriously thin. Skeletal , even. A few days ago, she had looked like she was damn near death’s door when she’d literally fallen at his feet.
    Her wavy blonde hair was clean now, full and shiny. Her pale face was flushed with a healthy glow, but dark circles still ringed her light blue eyes. He doubted she could be more than sixteen or seventeen, yet her tired eyes looked ancient. She had the eyes of a girl who’d seen too much, who’d been to hell and back. And whereas that pretty much sucked ass…she could join the fucking club. Anyone left standing today had been through hell and back.
    “Did you steal this trailer?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Or is it yours?”
    “Mine.”
    “So, you have gas?”
    He shook his head. “Ran out.”
    “Oh. This is my grandparents’ farm.”
    “Cool,” he muttered , and she went back to stirring. He continued to stare at the back of her head, not sure how he felt about her as a roommate, especially after that…episode the other day. He’d never known what to do when a female started crying or acting irrational. Usually he would just walk away, but walking away from Carrie would have entailed walking into a subzero snowstorm. So Marko had ridden out her emotional train wreck, continued to offer her soup, and eventually he had fallen asleep, sitting up. When he had woken up, it was over.
    He’d since formed a plan in case she went all hormonal on him again. He’d nap it out. He wished he’d thought of that strategy back when Nadya had thrown her temper tantrums.
    Nadya.
    Beautiful, sweet, and loving, yet kind of annoying when she would talk his ear off. Maybe she couldn’t cook very well and…well, who was he kidding? She was a fucking whore. He was in love with a whore who had apparently never loved him back. The word fool came to mind. All those damn years…how many? Fuck, it had been fifteen years since their betrothal. For fifteen years, he’d only had eyes for her. He had never been with anyone but her, had never wanted anyone but her.
    And she’d fucked Xan Deleanu. She’d chosen Xan over him. Xan was a goddamn man-whore with a jacked-up attitude and a drinking problem. He preferred fighting to talking, and his solution to working through his emotions consisted of jacking his cock off inside another man’s property. He was a guy who didn’t so much as blink at the thought of killing another human being. He was coldhearted and single-minded and just an all-around asshole.
    Marko’s fists clenched as old anger boiled up anew inside him.
    “Are you okay?”
    He glanced up and found Carrie staring at him.
    No, she wasn’t staring at him. She was gaping at…his glowing fists.
    Shit.
    Marko had never learned how to control his powers when he was angry or aroused. That was probably because when he got angry, he was all in. There was no in-between, and the same