I hurl the question back at her, waiting for the blow to land.
Wantingthe blow to land so I know this wasn’t a complete waste of my time.
She flinches and that’s good enough for me.
“That’s not fair. I was between fashion shows and someone had to keep the lights on.”
“It’s a simple question, mum. Would you have stayed if that bastard had killed your only child?”
A moment of silence.
And then she breaks my heart all over again.
“Yes.” Her throat bobs as she swallows, the first inkling of regret flittering across her expression, “But that doesn’t mean I wanted you to leave.”
And yet, you didn’t bother asking if I would stay.
I turn and leave the kitchen with more pieces than I started.
Broken shards that embed themselves into my sensitive tissues and leave a fucking mess behind.
My college classes started an hour ago, but I don’t give them a second thought as I climb into my car and start the engine. The Ford Mustang roars to life, the familiar rumble beneath my legs more comforting than any college professor could be.
I punch the gas and rev it down the driveway. She’s a beauty, this dark horse of mine, and she has no problem handling the aggression I throw at her.
Blasting through streetlights and drifting around corners, I let all my frustrations melt from my body and onto the road. The knot holding my mind captive starts to loosen as I drive the gritty streets of Wolf Hollow, racing from the memories chasing after me.
It’s a sense of freedom I’ll never stop craving, the ability to climb into a beautiful machine and just drive. I could drive to the edge of the earth and back, and no one would be the wiser.
Just me, the open road and the rumble of my engine.
I make it to the peak of the valley and throw my car into park. Leaving the engine running, I rip the chain off my neck and stalk to the edge of the cliff face.
The key dangles off the end, a shabby piece of metal that doesn’t deserve to weigh me down anymore. I ball it up in my fist and wind back my arm.
Let go.
My arm snaps forward but my palm doesn’t open. The chain stays clenched in my fist, the key tucked safely between my fingers.
“You stupid bugger.”
It feels like defeat when the chain falls back around my neck. When the key returns to its place above my heart, above the only patch of skin that never got scarred.
Tucking it inside my shirt, I feel the weight settle on my chest like a long awaited friend. It joins the pressure already waiting for me, the endless list of expectations I never seem to live up to.
I lean back against the hood of my car, staring out into the valley. Small, ant-like figures slowly make their way down streets and disappear into the forest, presumably to use the walking trails.
I’m a spectator looking at an exhibit at the aquarium. The outsider who has no desire to stay yet no desire to leave. There’snothing tying me here except a robbery of the century and a team who won’t hesitate to dispose of my body after the job is done.
It’s a shitshow of the highest order. And that’s before you throw in the fucked up state of my head.
A breeze sweeps through the clearing, carrying the scent of blood and the echo of someone’s laughter. I don’t have to guess who it belongs to because it coats my skin with the kind of relief that comes from taking too many painkillers.
The princess carrying a witch’s cackle.
The best fucking sound I’ve heard in years.
Chapter 28
