“You said?—”
“You never really gave me a chance to say much,” he interjects, shooting my eyebrows to my hairline as I gape at his audacity.
My nostrils flare as my anger turns salty, and I wave a hand at him. “Take the floor.” Every word drips in sarcasm.
“I didn’t know my brother had any involvement with you at all until I saw my uncle in the trial area when we were both sentenced,” he explains slowly, and my eyebrows pinch.
“Your uncle?”
“Yes. My family tree doesn’t get any better, but I wasn’t aware I was in The Sanctum for you. I’d been held there for nearly eight months because I disobeyed my brother.”
“How does that work? Disobeying your brother, I mean,” I clarify.
He cocks a brow at me and scoffs, shaking his head as his eyes gloss over.
“My brother is the master of mind games and chasing the ultimate level of control. He gets far too much joy from bringing me misery.” There’s a smile on his face, but it’s haunted, not humorous.
“Yet you still obey him,” I state, reminding him exactly how he fucked up, and glares at me.
“Did you not hear why I was there?”
“Not specifically,” I say with a sigh, hating how much he’s still talking because it’s getting him closer instead of firmly wedging us further apart.
“I didn’t kill the girl, Elodie. I mean, I did, otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to bring me in, but it wasn’t by choice,” he snaps, his words so firm, so true, that I feel like my mind is reeling as I try to keep my feet planted on the floor.
My fingers flex as my pulse quickens. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say to me, Kael.” My mouth dries as curiosity lingers in the air.
“I don’t know either, but I’m going insane,” he mutters, tugging at his fair hair with desperation.
He’s not okay, that’s clear to see, but it’s not my responsibility to deal with it.
“I think I should go,” I say quietly, reaching for my backpack on the bench.
“No!” he yelps, grabbing the strap of my backpack before I can hook it over my shoulder.
My eyebrows rise, but it’s the hysteria contained in his emerald eyes that makes me pause. “Please, Elodie. He’s in my fucking head.”
I’ve never seen his eyes so wide, his jaw so tight, his desperation so thick I can almost taste it in the air.
“What does that mean?” I breathe, and he shakes his head.
“Are we ever going to be able to figure this shit out and get past it?” he rasps earnestly, and I gulp at the torture in his tone.
“I don’t know how,” I admit, and his shoulders slump as his head sags.
“Then can you do me a favor? I know you don’t owe me anything, but…”
“What?” I ask, curiosity writhing in my bones.
“Kill me.”
My pulse thunders in my ears. “What?”
He stares deep into my eyes, threatening to penetrate my soul, and it steals my breath. “Just end it. End me. I fucking can’t.”
“You’re not thinking clearly,” I mutter, silently hating how much I think it’s a terrible idea, despite what his actions have put me through, but it’s clear, in this moment, that I don’t wish death upon him.
“I know I’m not. Not when he’s in there.” He mindlessly shakes his head, the gravity of his words freezing me in place as I take them at face value this time.
