Page 88 of Retrograde

“Aron? It wasn’t your fault he died. It wasn’t your fault that any of them died.”

“It was my fault. If I hadn’t stopped ... and Haqif’s just one of many. It’s like every decision I made caused someone I cared about to get hurt. Like a curse. Until I realised that I could use that.”

Whatever I was about to say, I give in to curiosity instead. “What do you mean?”

“Once I realised who I was, what I was, and that I brought nothing but death to people no matter what I did ... I also realised I could bring it to the right people. I accepted who I was. And used it for the best purpose I could find.”

“It was never you, Aron.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Riley.”

“You don’t think I know a thing or two about survivor’s guilt?” I raise my head up to meet his glare. “Doing what I do? All that I’ve witnessed without being able to help or interfere? Always having to remind myself that my job is to make sure others see what I’ve seen so that they can act? And that’s not even the worst of it.”

Something lets up in his features, his eyes darkening with curiosity.

Satisfied, I settle my head back on his shoulder before elaborating. “The worst of it was my father. Except he stopped being a father to anybody the day he lost his job. He became a violent drunk instead. He beat my mother and my younger siblings. But never me.” I sigh heavily, my breath bitter on my lips. “I was the breadwinner, remember? He didn’t dare lay a finger on me, oh no. But I couldn’t get him to stop hurting the others. I couldn’t do anything but watch the abuse get worse and worse.”

My voice breaks, and I flinch when his fingers glide through my hair, the gentle contact as surprising as it is soothing. I soak up the comfort the way parched earth soaks up summer rain—cracks smoothing and all that was coarse softening inside of me.

“Then Volker came along with his ... proposal.” Aron’s arms wrap around me, the gesture almost protective, like he wants to save me from the memory—like I’m worth saving. “I can’t even tell. Did I agree because I wanted to get them away from here? Or did I just want to get away from them?”

Something irreparable, something that was already fractured, breaks inside of me when his lips touch the crown of my head.

“Hey, Aron?”

“Hm?”

“Sometimes I think I deserve everything you’ve done to me.”

He stays silent for so long that I no longer expect him to answer by the time he finally does. “Sometimes I worry that you don’t.”

For a long while, neither of us says anything. I listen to the cheerful chirping of morning birds. Warm and comfortable in Aron’s embrace, I close my eyes, drifting off to sleep.

His voice pulls me out of my pleasant limbo. “All the shit you’ve seen, Hotshot ... Don’t you ever have nightmares?”

“I do,” I admit, the thrum of his heart loud and steady in my ear.

“What about?”

I hesitate before replying honestly, “You.”

33

RILEY

I’m shivering, but it’s more a sense of absence than the cold that’s woken me. I’m alone in the hammock, and the room is empty. Aron has left—without a word, without telling me when he’d be back or what I should do in the meantime.

I use the bathroom, then spend a few minutes battling the stubborn burner before I manage to make myself a cup of coffee.

The main metal door creaks when I push it open, and I peek down. The courtyard is mostly empty, but a few men are sitting in the sun with their backs to the cave wall, enjoying breakfast. My stomach rumbles, but I don’t know any of them, and I don’t fancy going down there alone.

I close the door and spend the next few hours poking around. When it becomes clear there’s no food in the kitchenette, bar an ancient-looking jar of honey in one of the cupboards, I search the place for anything to entertain myself with, with even less success. There are no books, no music, no laptop, nothing. Clearly, Aron only sleeps in here.

Hours pass by. I lie in bed staring at the natural rock ceiling, too hungry to fall back asleep. And all the while, my annoyance keeps flaring, only for me to suppress it over and over.

I can’t believe he just left me here without any food or anything to do!

Maybe he had to leave urgently, or thought he’d be back before you woke up.