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No, she was safer here.
“You look like you could use a shower,” she says reproachfully, stepping back to hold me at arms’ length to take me in. Fair play to her though, she doesn’t blanch or baulk at the sight of me. She’s tougher than Saint gives her credit for. “Do you want me to fix you anything?”
I shake my head. “No, thank you. I just want to be alone.”
“No worries. I can stay in the guest?—”
“No. I meanalonealone. Can you go home…please?” I add. I feel shit doing it, but this is my time. There’s nothing keeping me together now. It’s done, I followed Axel’s wishes, and Ican finally grieve them properly. But I can’t do that with an audience.
“Odi, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” I can tell she’s trying to be gentle with me, but I don’t want to hear it.
“Saint? Take Lou home please. You can take Kaiden’s bike, the limo or any of the cars in the garage. I don’t need them,” I say flatly.
Saint steps forward and nods, taking Lou by the arm and gently leading her back into the house. She protests, but he whispers something to her and she immediately shuts up. If I wasn’t so numb, I’d be impressed. Lou isn’t one to back down easily.
At the door which leads down to the underground basement, they pause and look back at me. Saint looks resigned. Tears glisten in Lou’s eyes but they don’t fall.
“Kaiden told me he wanted you to learn to ride, and drive,” Saint tells me firmly. “So I’ll be back soon to teach you how to use those vehicles you own.”
“Odi—”
“I love you,” I tell Lou, cutting her off. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, babe.”
She shakes her head, refusing to accept my words for what I didn’t intend for them to be, but can understand how she took them; as a goodbye.
“I’ll give you tonight, Odile Kemp, but Iwillbe back first thing in the morning with breakfast, so you better damn well be ready for me.”
I give her a weak smile. “Sure.”
I don’t want to eat in the morning. I don’t even want to see another morning. But I will. Because I’m a diamond, and diamonds never break.
“Tomorrow, we get Rose back, Odi. Remember that.”
I nod because I can tell I’m starting to scare her, but can’t she see I’m not suicidal, I justwantto die?
I take a deep breath and release it. “Just give me one night to fall apart and grieve. Tomorrow if we get Rose back, I’ll have my shit together for her sake. But tonight has to be for them.”
Lou nods her agreement and Saint guides her through the door to the basement, closing it behind them. I give a sigh of relief once I’m alone, and slowly climb the stairs.
Instead of going straight to my room when I reach the top though, my feet carry me to the half decorated little girl’s room. I swing open the door and flick on the light and the scent of fresh paint hits me. The room is complete.
Tears prick my eyes. I don’t know who did it or when, but I’m grateful my daughter has a room to come home to. As I’m turning to leave, something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye and I cross to the window where a vase of freshly cut flowers sits.
Roses for Rose. Peonies for Peony.
My eyes water once more and I dash the tears away before pausing.
Why am I wiping my tears? It’s not shameful to cry. To hurt. To bleed pain. I don’t have to be strong anymore. Not tonight.
Something in me just can’t do it though. I can’t give myself permission to let go.
Instead, I hurriedly switch off the light and rush to my room, leaving it in darkness as I make my way to the en suite. Inside, I shut the door, turn on the light and pull out my knife, running it under the tap to clean it. When the blood’s gone, I pull out the matches, strike one and begin to heat up the blade. It needs to be cleansed of The General’s blood. Sterilised.
I strip off my clothes and turn on the shower, cranking the heat all the way. Once the sound of the water beating down fills the room, I slip under the stream with my knife in hand. I knowwhat I need. A cathartic release. One which has never come from my tears.
The blade’s caress on the inside of my thigh is like welcoming an old lover home. I close my eyes and lose myself in its touch, wishing the ending of our story could be different. I cut until I can no longer stand, the weight of my grief sending me crashing to the floor of the shower. I might not have had any tears, but it doesn’t stop the animalistic scream that tears itself free of my throat.
I scream until I’m raw.
