“Tomorrow will be hell, though,” Jasper said, cracking his neck. “I already have a migraine setting in.”
“Now what?” Sloane asked, looking at the utter destruction surrounding us. The ceremony area had been demolished. There was no way the covens could mend what was broken. It was a shame, seeing that most of those items dated back over five hundred years. And three out of the six arched stained glass windows had been shattered, littering the bloodied floor with opposing bits of color. “Who gets to clean all of this up? And who gets to carry this heavy bastard?” She asked, nudging the body with her foot.
The unconscious man was massive. He had a good three inches on Jasper and me, with biceps as large as our heads. We looked at each other and groaned, knowing it would take both of us to get him into the car. Even then, it would be no easy feat.
As if realizing this, Sloane smiled and clapped her hands. “How about I make a call for this,” she said, pointing at the wreckage, “and you boys take care of him.”
And then she skipped into the chapel, leaving Jasper and I to our heavy lifting.
CHAPTER NINE
“Godsabove,” Jasper grunted, adjusting his grip under the man’s arms. “What did he eat to grow to this size?”
“Just concentrate on the steps,” I muttered, cursing the flickering bulbs hanging above our heads as we descended to the chambers below the house.
A pang of sadness hit my chest, reminding me that I should have heeded my wife’s advice on the indoor lighting. Time and time again, I was struck by how often the little things sent me spiraling down into the dark recesses of my mind.
It seemed like ages ago when I had taken Calia down here. She had, of course, complained about the lack of lighting. At the time, I had shrugged it off, too focused on how she would react when I showed her where I had placed Jasper as punishment following her attack. I had been driven by a force I could not define, needing to show her the darkness in me. In retrospect, that same force kept me from seeing the harm I caused to someone so dear.
I had many regrets regarding how I handled my jealousy that day. When I saw her with Senna, something snapped. It was notbecause I had anything to hide regarding my ex—if one could call her that. I knew she would say anything to cause Calia to doubt me, especially after Senna had interrupted Calia and I’s first…encounter.
It really was no wonder why my wife had trust issues. They were more than warranted, especially as I looked back at our beginning.
I had been wrong not only because my actions affected her but also because I had taken it out on Jasper.
Calling myself an ass would have put it mildly. I had been ruthless in my attempts to dissuade her interest. And when I had succeeded, it should have felt victorious.
Instead, it felt as though I had lost my world.
Perhaps I should not have let her see that side of me, but a monster like myself was incapable of change. It was sewn into the fabric that made me who I was. I did not shy away from the knowledge. In fact, I often embraced it.
People often assumed the worst of others, judging what they couldn’t understand. For that, the label of ‘monster’ had followed me around since my father died.
I had been a topic of many hushed conversations, raising the question of nurture versus nature. Many asked where my parents had gone wrong or if they had shown me enough love as a child.
It would have been laughable had it not cut me so deep. While my father wore an intimidating mask in public, he was so different behind closed doors. He trained me in classic literature, often spending hours reading specific sections with me before discussing the ideas discussed on the pages.
My father had started my musical training from an early age. However, no one except for Jasper and Rowena had ever heard me play. I had not touched the piano since he died.
But even though I had known what my father’s love had felt like, I was a product of my mother’s making. Leonora had taken the boy my father nurtured and turned me into a man who shut the world around him out. I mourned for the life I could have lived, for the love that could have been mine, and the joy I never experienced.
She ensured I viewed the world through jaded lenses.
“You boys are doing great,” Sloane called as she trailed behind us. Her voice brought me back to the present, an excellent thing, seeing as I would have tripped over the final step had I not snapped free of my memories. “Your teamwork is truly inspiring.”
Jasper huffed, stumbling over the final stair I had almost taken a tumble on. “And you really are a pain in my ass,” he muttered, dragging the man’s massive form through the door before dropping it to the concrete below.
“I heard that, you know,” Sloane quipped.
“Good. You were supposed to.” He lifted the hem of his shirt, wiping away the sweat clinging to his forehead. I did not miss the way Sloane’s eyes slid over the defined muscled of his stomach. “Where do you want him?” he asked.
I looked around, inhaling the stale scent of old blood. It had never gone away despite hours of scrubbing the dungeon from top to bottom with the most potent chemicals money could buy.
The deprivation chamber stood in the middle of the room, in contrast with the other devices I knew were hidden behind the other doors. Seeing it now riddled me with shame and regret. I glanced at Jasper, hoping I did not see it echoed in his gaze. Knowing what I did to him here would forever haunt me.
“Let’s strap him in the chair,” I said, motioning to the right.
This cell had been my uncle’s particular preference for torture. Thick bars of steel separated the space from the main room, and inside was a large wooden chair fitted with leathercuffs for the hands and feet and a metal collar was attached just below the headrest.
