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When I open my eyes, I see the reflection of my mother’s betrayal in Riley’s eyes as she remembers Frank.
I hope she finds as much pleasure and satisfaction in his suffering as I did when I refused to help the monster who raised me, when I had a small part in drawing out the misery and torment of the devil who shaped me into what I became, simply by denying her.
It’s not enough. It will never be enough. But it’s something.
“My mother had to live with her cancer for five years. It ate away at her. It rotted her bones and strangled her organs. It gave her the death she deserved instead of the easy one the state wanted to give her for her crimes. She begged for help, for relief, just like they had. Shesuffered.”
Riley’s expression doesn’t change, but her hand tightens around my wrist and her heart beats in a slow, steady beat—perfectly in sync with mine—as she stares unblinking into my eyes.
I’ve never felt as connected to another person, never let anyone see me as clearly. It’s dangerous. It stirs the monster inside me. Makes me want to mark her again.Ownher. Drag her out of the darkness she’s drowning in and trap her in mine, where I can keep her and have this, always.
I don’t mean to tell her any more, but Riley’s not the only one drowning. I can no more look away than I can keep these horrors inside anymore.
“The prison mailed me a box of my mother’s effects after she died,” I tell her. “She didn’t have much. I never answered her letters, and there was no other correspondence. Not with anyone. There was no one else in the world, no one living, for her to keep in touch with. But the one thing she had… that she’d kept with her… that she never should have been allowed to fuckingtouch…”
Riley turns her face toward my hand, still cupping her cheek, and breathes against my palm. In. Out. In again. It’s not a kiss—in twenty-six years, no one has ever kissed me—but it’s a connection that makes my throat tighten up with an emotion I’ve never felt before. Tighten up so much itaches.
The words force themselves out anyway, my voice raw and painful.
“She had my sister’s bracelet. I’d given it to Emma for her fifth birthday. I found it in a field behind our house, blue beads, like Em’s eyes were, with some white ones all around it. She was wearing it that day, when the monster, when our mother…” Rage sweeps through me, tangling my tongue before I manage to bite out the rest. “Our motherkeptit. She took it off Em’s body. It’s in the box they sent. One of the beads cracked that day, and it’s still stained with Emma’s blood.”
Maddoc and Dante don’t know any of this. They don’t know what the prison sent me. They don’t know how I relished every letter that arrived before that for the deep, pulsing satisfaction I felt as I denied Mother any help, over and over… and how finding Emma’s bracelet in her effects felt like it robbed me of that. Like Mother was able to reach out from the grave to claw me open again, show me that she’d kept a memento, a souvenir, of what she’d done that day.
Maddoc and Dante don't know because while they’re both intimately familiar with the darkness that pulses through the veins of the world like a plague, neither of them have been touched by the kind of betrayal I have. The unforgivable kind of a parent who doesn’t just fail their child, but takes pleasure in hurting them.
The kind of betrayal that Riley knows.
In lieu of pleasure, Frank Sutton let his weakness guide him down that dark path. He looked out for himself and only himself, at the expense of his daughters’ pain. It’s just as unforgivable, and I don’t blame Riley for wanting to retreat and escape it.
But I know she won’t forgive herself, either, if she doesn’t snap out of it.
Herlittle sister is still out there.
Chloe still needs her.
I spread my hand out, not just tracing Riley’s scar anymore but covering it completely, her heart beating against my palm.
“I know what happened today. I know what it feels like to have your soul splinter inside you, cut right through your skin and shred you to pieces as it tears itself apart. You can’t move. You can’t blink. Not without jostling those shards and letting them tear you up all over again. I understand why it shut you down.”
I won’t give her empty words or false promises. Some things, once they’re broken, can’t ever be repaired. But I can show her how to go on living anyway. I can show her she’s not alone. I can let her feel it.
I take her hand and put it on my chest, spreading it wide. “Iknow, wildcat.”
She stares back at me, and I really do drown in her eyes. Drown in them until they spill over and she makes a small, broken sound, sliding her hand up from my chest to cup my face. And then, tasting of salt and pain and sorrow, she finally closes them and presses her lips against mine, pulling herself out of the darkness.
And igniting mine.
34
RILEY
I don’t thinkabout it before I kiss Logan. I’m not thinking at all—or feeling anything anymore, thank god.
At least, not until our lips touch.
Logan’s lips are firm and warm and totally unresponsive at first, but I don’t care. I need this. I needhim.
I tangle my hand in the back of his hair and breathe him in, kissing him harder. Using the taste of him to beat back the pain inside me, little by little. And finally, his body uncoils like a striking snake, and he moves too.
