His inability to separate himself from her nonsense had cost Oli his life and Rabbit his sanity. For months now he’d been a shell of a person, like the walking dead, at war with himself to keep what she’d done to Oli from returning to him.
Now, all of those times he’d been scared whenever someone had tried to get close made more sense. He’d assumed it was because he was worried his mom would push them off the edge like she’d done with Oli, making them want to take their own life. But Oli had never done that. She’d lied.
Rabbit hadn’t been strong enough to act then, and ironically, he’d probably say he was in a more mentally unstable place now than he’d been that night, however…
He wasn’t caught off guard by her actions this time around, and she hadn’t simply hit a friend of his.
She’d hit Baikal.
He got to his feet and moved to the side of the bed Baikal had been sleeping on, not even noticing when Void’s hand dropped away from his arm and he let him.
“What do you think he was with you for?” December chortled. “Did you really think he liked you or something? My son? My son has a future, a bright one, and one you are not a part of. Run back to your criminal father and stay the hell away from what’s mine.”
Rabbit knew where Void kept it. He’d seen him place it in his backpack a couple of times before and had simply turned the other cheek.
The blood on his body last night hadn’t bothered Rabbit because he’d figured anyone who got involved with the Brumal knew what they were getting themselves into. Maybe that was callous of him, but he’d never claimed to be a good person either. Things were different with his mother though. Oli had taken a job as a teacher and had ended up with his skull bashed open. Yet she dared to stand there and degrade Baikal?
There was only one monster in this room and it wasn’t Rabbit’s Devil.
Sure enough, Baikal had placed his bag on the floor by the nightstand, and when Rabbit opened the middle pocket and his left hand wrapped around the barrel of the blaster, he didn’t stop to consider the rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins or worry about why this was the path his mind had immediately brought him down.
Maybe his mother was right after all.
Maybe he was just melodramatic.
“That’s what I should be saying,” his voice cut across the expanse of the room, the sheer authority there catching their attention. Rabbit lifted the blaster and aimed it directly at his mother’s head as he rounded the bed and came to a stop at Baikal’s side. “Stay the hell away from what’s mine.” His arm didn’t even shake. “And get out of my life for good.”
“What—” Her astonishment washed away any of the smugness she’d been throwing Void’s way. “What are you doing?”
“Little bunny,” Baikal whispered, turning his body closer toward him. “Think this through. That’s dangerous.”
“I remember,” Rabbit stated, ignoring everything else but the spark of recognition in his mother’s eyes. “I remember the truth of that night. Oli didn’t kill himself. You killed him.”
She didn’t bother denying it.
“You aren’t even going to try to convince me I’m wrong?” He chuckled, but the sound lacked humor. “I just told you I remember you’re a murderer!”
“And?” She sighed and tossed the glass orb onto the ground absently. “What’s done is done.”
“That’s it?”
“It’s not like it matters. He had no family, the doctor was more than willing to take my money and fake the autopsy report, and his body was cremated. There’s nothing for anyone to find. There’s no proof. Forget him. I did you a favor.”
“You made me a zombie!” All those times he’d panicked before a show or in the dark. All those sleepless nights where he stared up at his ceiling, drowning in guilt over the fact his mother had ruined someone’s life so extensively that they killed themselves afterward.
But Oli had never done that, and it had never been Rabbit’s fault. Any of it.
“You’re a parasite,” he said. “A soulless monster. That’s why you’ve only been able to unlock three colors and why you’ll never be able to unlock any more.”
Her gaze darkened but he didn’t care.
He was done caring about her.
“You need feelings, mother, in order to master an instrument like the beiska. Depth. And you? You don’t have any.” He shifted his aim from her head to her heart. “Which means there’s only one way this is going to end between you and I.”
“Rabbit.” Baikal rested a palm lightly against Rabbit’s narrow back, but it was impossible to tell if he was trying to talk him down or just showing his support.
It didn’t really matter.
