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“You were doing what you were raised to do, Ares. Don’t put yourself down like that. If you had the choice back then, this wouldn’t be you now.” I don’t know if she’s right. I don’t know if I know that much about myself. Yet, I nod my head and watch as she walks out of the room once more. I take a sip of my coffee and sigh.
“You’re doing the right thing, Ares. You’re young. You can start your life over with Sage.”
“I don’t know how to get rid of the darkness that surrounds me, Ranger.”
“You work hard. You let her help you. You do whatever you feel you need to do in order to survive this,” he advises. I nod my head once. Maybe he’s right. Maybe I can overcome this. I think with Sage, there’s a lot I can do. But without her? If something happens to her? That will end me. I will never be the same, and I don’t think I can pull myself out of the darkness if that’s what’s to come.
It’s time to make a choice. End myself. Or save her.
27
Icame home after talking with Ranger in a little more depth. He called some of his men while I was there and worked out a plan. I was glad he let me be a part of it. I needed a way to get out of my head for a little while. Now, I’m in my father’s basement, looking at the empty cages. The cages have held so many women. Women I’ve tortured. Women I’ve broken and abused.
“Do you need something to do?” I hear his voice. I don’t look over at him, and I don’t have to. I know this amuses him. He fucking knew about her. He denied me having her because he knew, ultimately, I was going to be the one to end her.
“It’s been too quiet,” I tell him.
“It has. Things will pick back up after the ritual takes place.”
“Will it?” Now I turn to face him. I look a lot like my father, and I’m a lot like him. We’re both disgusting bastards who hurt others. We’re both fated to go to hell at some point. And maybe I’ll welcome it with open arms. Maybe they’ll do to me as I’ve done to them.
“It will. Not to worry, I know how you get when you don’t have anything to do, Ares.”
“And how do I get?”
“Restless. You need the blood. You need the thrill you get when you torture,” he answers.
“And you used to do this?” I ask him. He nods his head as I pull out a cigarette and light it up.
“When I was younger, yes. My father, your grandfather taught me as I’ve taught you.”
“You don’t bear the same scars as me.” He chuckles.
“I was a better learner than you, Ares. I didn’t give him as much trouble as you gave me.”
“What was my mother like?”
“She was an evil bitch. I wish you’d remember. She beat you for no reason at all. She tortured you in her own ways,” he tells me.
“I don’t remember any of that.”
“I’m well aware.”
“Then remind me.” He nods and walks around, clasping his hands behind his back as he takes in the tools of torture.
“She used to hate that you looked like me. That you acted like me. She would take out her anger toward me on you,” he says.
“How many others?” I ask as I blow smoke into the air.
“Other what?”
“Kids do you have.”
“You’re the only boy,” he tells me. I want to push him; I want to know more. I want to know if I have siblings out there somewhere, but what good would it do me?
“And you never had another boy?”
“You were enough. I didn’t need more than one son.”
