Page 93 of Unlocking Ruin

Torben and I don’t speak. The air is too thick. Too bitter. Maybe we were both just too broken, and now we had our glue. Nelson. We could end this and go back to a new normal.

Torben drags Nelson into our gym and ties him up. It’s the perfect jail in this house, accessible only by an elevator that needs either mine or Torben’s fingerprint to operate. It’s also two floors underground. No screams can escape.

I called Finnic, our pilot, and told him to come within the hour. It’s time to leave this place and return to my home. I built this house after my father passed, making sure it overlooked where he took his final breath. The fjord, the waters that claimed him, ushered him into peace after the fire wreaked havoc on his flesh.

The fjord was my peace and my nightmare. It was time to wake up. Time to end this, yet I was desperate to remain in this chapter, because it was what led me to Rylan.

A painful squeak sounds as the thick tread of my combat boots digs into the gym mat. I turn and face Nelson. He leans against the metal bench press that Torben tied him to, chained like a rat.

Why hasn’t he said anything? He’s not gagged. Why hasn’t he pleaded, or begged?

Nothing. He was always useless. He looks aged, not like wine, more like rotten food. His eyes are hollow; dark circles line them. He’s gained weight, not that he’s fat; he’s just not surviving on drugs anymore.

Nelson is the worst image of Alister, yet in those depthless green eyes I see a small resemblance to Rylan. That is what has me sliding my hand off the knife strapped to my side.

My hand shakes, so I swing my arms behind my back to cover it. The move catches Nelson’s attention. Our eyes finally collide.

“I lost everything because of you,” I finally say. My throat feels raw, thick. I want to cry, not from pain but an untamed fury that will never be broken, never taught how to live a peaceful life.

Nelson averts his gaze. The steam from Torben’s exhale is so intense it threatens to boil the room. He advances, punches Nelson’s temple forcefully, then seizes his chin and wrenches his head in my direction.

“You will look at my brother when he talks to you!” he snarls as he peels his fingers away.

Torben comes to my side; his eyes look past me at the door, trying to wrangle his temper. He knows this is my kill.

How do I do it? With my hands?

These hands killed my father. Saved him from death. I strangled him so the fire could not delight.

Nelson licks his lips; his throat rolls, but it’s with a great struggle. “If I said I’m sorry, would it make a difference? Not in my freedom. I know you’re not gonna give me that unless it’s in the form of releasing me from this.” He looks down at his body and shrugs. “I’m sorry,” he says firmly as he looks at me and then Torben in the eyes.

“It makes it worse,” I reply, feeling my face heat to a red hue.

“Do you know why I traded my life to live in a cell?” Nelson questions.

“Because you’re a coward,” I sneer. My scars feel like they are tightening, a corset trying to help me stand tall when all I want to do is tear into him.

His eyes pin me again. A flash of Rylan. I snarl and look away.

“I am,” Nelson says in a self-loathing tone. “I always ran to my brother and your father to help. Your dad was the eldest in our group. He held all the control. They were always more sympathetic. I sought help from The Rites for a different reason. I wanted to be locked up. I wanted to pay for what I did, and death was far too simple for that. So I figured sitting in a cell would make you happy.”

“Happy?” Torben barrels forward. I let him. He swings his leg back and aims to kick Nelson, but he freezes. Holds his leg back in the air, then he stomps his massive foot down on the mat. Torben squats down, showing far more control than I would have. “Happy?” Torben whispers in a sinister grumble that causes me to step forward. “You are a thief who steals happiness.”

Thief.

My Little Thief. It must run in her family. Stealing hearts and happiness.

“Torben!” I call him back as I close my eyes.

I hear Torben stand, the gym mats expanding under his receding steps. Torben walks past me, calling the elevator, which opens as if it knows to let this animal out. He’s finally lost control, but unlike most men, he runs wild alone. Torben would never let an audience observe his true nature.

Nelson apologizes again. It’s like nails on a chalkboard. “I’m clean. I can think again. It was a mistake.”

Peeling my eyes open, I look at the man who killed my father, and all the others that night. “Like all your other mistakes, you thought you had escaped brutal punishment. You didn’t.” Turning, I walk to the door. I need to let him stew, go mad with fear over what I will do to him. I stop, look over my shoulder and ask, “Do you think of the staff you killed, or just my father?”

He sinks back like a snail seeking refuge.

He hasn’t. Of course he hasn’t.