When he turns to face me, I choke on air. His gaze locks onto mine, assessing me, studying the tear-streaked mess of my face. I want to look away, but something keeps me rooted and I stand firm.
His eyes narrow slightly, his jaw tensing and for a split second, I wonder if he’s about to push me away again, to break whatever fragile bond we have.
“Tonight,” he says, his tone final. My brows crease in confusion, but before I can ask, he continues. “I’ll show you everything you need to see tonight. Wrap up warm.”
Show me? I ask myself, but before I can challenge his words, he turns and enters the bathroom, locking it behind him.
Chapter Fourteen
Ty
I sit in the passenger seat beside Kitten, watching the way her fingers tighten on the steering wheel, the grip white-knuckled, as if trying to keep a hold of herself. I know she’s nervous, I can feel the fucking tension in her body from here. Every time she shifts in her seat, it’s like she’s trying to run from something, but she can’t. Not from me. Not from this.
I wasn’t going to bring her here, at least not yet, but there’s only so much you can hide when the truth is gnawing at your insides like a fucking disease. If she’s ever going to understand, it’ll be now.
I thought I’d have to drag her into my hell, break her down bit by bit until she had no choice but to see me for what I am. I thought she’d hate me—fear me. But tonight, when she asked me to tell her, when she begged me to explain... something in me snapped.
She wants to understand. She cares about me.
I may not be capable of much in the feelings department, but I fucking felt that.
Nobody has ever given a shit about me. Not in the way she begged in that moment. No one’s ever seen me—really seen me. When I was a kid, I was alone. When I lost my sister, I was alone. When I killed my parents, I was alone. When I was in Sacred Heights, I was alone. No one fucking cared or saw me. But Raven... Raven sees me, or at least, she wants to see me, even if she’s terrified of what she might find.
And now I’m taking her to one part of the puzzle. The truth, the reason I’m broken beyond saving. The truth I’ve lived with for over twenty years. She’s so fucking close to understanding, I can taste it. And yet, I’m fucking terrified. Terrified that when she sees the truth—the ugly, ugly truth—she’ll run.
But I won’t let her. I can’t. Even if it tears me apart, even if she’s disgusted by me. I can’t let her go.
She doesn’t know how shattered I really am. How much of me is nothing but pieces of a kid who never had a fucking chance.The broken little boy who killed to escape his cage. I don’t even know where the line between who I am now and who I was starts and ends.
I’m sat here fighting the urge to give in to the feeling in my chest—the one that says just let her in. Don’t do it this way.
But what happened to me and my sister is nothing I could ever just spill from my lips. I wouldn’t even know where to fucking start. The words don’t exist for the kind of horror we lived through, the kind of evil that shaped me. And even if I could string them together, it wouldn’t be enough—not for her, not for anyone.
I believe you have to see it, you have to feel it, deep in your fucking bones, until it digs in and tears at every thread of your humanity. Only then can you even begin to understand. It’llchange everything you think you know about this cruel, rotting world forever.
“Pull up here, Kitten. Cut the engine,” I order calmly, my eyes scanning the dark woodland surrounding us.
She does as I say, and the world falls silent, the hum of the engine disappearing into nothingness. The moonlight filters through the dense tree’s above, casting a fractured light over her face. I glance at her; her glassy eyes dart everywhere, searching for answers she won’t find. Not yet.
Leaning over, I reach up, grabbing her hood and slipping it over her head, the shadow swallowing her expression. Her wide eyes flick to mine, uncertainty swimming in their depths.
“You ready?” I ask quietly.
She gulps hard, hesitation sweeping across her face, but then she nods.
I don’t give her time to second-guess. I open my door, stepping out into the cool night air. It’s sharp, biting, the kind of chill that freezes your veins. After shutting my door as quietly as I can, I round the car to her side and unclasp her handcuff.
The metal drops away from her wrist with a faint clink, and I notice the way she instinctively rubs her skin. She looks up at me, confusion etched into her features, probably wondering why I’m not keeping her locked to me.
Sliding my hand into hers, I feel her fingers tremble slightly before they tighten around mine. She steps out, and I take a moment to adjust my ski mask over my face, tugging my hood further down.
“Listen to me very carefully, beautiful girl,” I murmur as my eyes lock on hers. “Not a sound. No matter what you see.”
I see it, the reluctance contorting in her features, but after a moment she gives another small, reluctant nod. I take a deep inhale, gesturing toward the woods with a tilt of my head.
Keeping her hand locked tightly in mine, I lead her into the darkness. The woods seem to grow colder with every step, the towering trees arching over us and the bark turns pale, almost ghostly.
Then I see it. The faint glow of light breaking through the trees ahead. My hold on her hand squeezes, and I feel her respond, her fingers clutching mine harder, instinctively.