82. Cyrus #2
I could still picture that stained, white plastic, the way the fridge rattled as I pushed Tess against it, harder than I’d meant to. And the fear in her eyes as she looked up at me.
I was used to other kids looking at me like that — I was always a bit of a trouble maker around Heirs of Promise. But seeing sweet Tess’ eyes water at the sight of me was a dagger right through my heart.
“I was terrified when I realized what you were doing. I didn’t know what else to do, so I begged you to take me with you. Promised I could help you, but you didn’t want to hear it. You told me to quiet down before I woke the whole house.”
I’d felt terrible as the words left my lips, but there was no other choice. Heirs of Promise was a brutal place, constantly trying to turn us on one another. And if anyone found out what we were up to, the punishment would be much worse than food rations.
Hindsight’s a fucking bitch.
Besides, Heirs of Promise was always going to be a safer bet for her. Tess fit in there, knew how to say all the right things and win over all of Pastor Harris’ affection right along with Rubin.
She didn’t need the woods. One cold night that first winter at Feverpoint would have been enough to freeze her delicate little heart and kill her. It was for the best that we left her behind. Especially after what happened next.
Gripping my machete, I paced closer to her, ready to launch into my monologue. But before I could hit my mark, Tess surprised me by speaking up.
“And then… there was a moment…”
My skin prickled. I didn’t think she’d remember it that way. Fuck, I was convinced that I had completely imagined it. The charge between us, the unspoken tension as her gaze dropped down to my lips.
“You pushed a strand of hair from my face, made me promise to do whatever I had to take care of myself. And then… you just walked away. Went back to standing guard at the pantry door and told me not to get caught on the way back to bed.”
Pain twisted in my chest at the memory. Watching her leave the kitchen shaking, I feared that I’d made a terrible mistake sending her away. But the real mistake had been not realizing how literally she would take her promise.
Flames surged in my chest as I remembered exactly what had brought us here. “And then what, Ragdoll?”
Tess blinked hard, shaking her head. “And then nothing. I don’t remember anything else—”
“Bullshit,” I seethed, gripping the machete tighter. “I’m so tired of you playing dumb.”
She flinched as if the words had wounded her, but her mouth opened and closed wordlessly.
“Fine,” I spat, “if you’re going to act brainless, then let me jog your memory. You didn’t go back up to your room that night. You turned around and went right to Sister Martha’s door and ratted me out.”
“What?” Tess’ brows furrowed as she searched my eyes.
“We’re not in Promise anymore, Tess. You don’t have to keep pretending.” Venom dripped from every word as I held her gaze. “You told them that I made a move on you. That I was trying to corrupt you.”
At that, Tess’ expression crumbled. “No. I wouldn’t do that.”
It was the firmest she’d been all night, which was a shock. A part of my brain clung to the panic in her tone, convinced that she was being honest.
But to a good liar, guilt and fear were easy to translate. Tess wasn’t hurt by the accusation; she was going to say whatever she had to to avoid my wrath.
No escaping me now, Ragdoll.
Ignoring her simpering, I dropped to my knee in front of her, forcing her to look me in the eyes. “You ratted, and they believed you. Pious little Tess would never lie! And she certainly wouldn’t entertain the dyke’s advances.”
My words were glass, shredding my throat as I spat them out. But I didn’t care how much blood I had to swallow; I wanted Tess to see my pain. “They almost took me from Nash and Blade! They wanted to send me to conversion therapy because of you!”
“Cyrus, I—”
“Don’t you dare say my name like you know me.” I knew that this was a sore spot for me, but usually, all the story made me feel was rage. Looking into Tess’ eyes and watching her deny it though — I hadn’t realized how deep that would cut.
Tears were streaming from her face, carving rivers through the dirt that clung to her skin over the course of Fright Night. “No. I didn’t, I wouldn’t!”
“Liar,” I snarled.
But Tess snarled right back. “I’m not fucking lying!
You want to know what I really remember, Cyrus?
I remember leaving that kitchen and crying myself to sleep, imagining my life without you.
You three were some of the only sane people in that god-forsaken place.
I had no idea how I was going to survive the aftermath once you abandoned me with those idealogues! ”
I scoffed. “And you expect me to believe that you were just going to let us go?”
I knew how things at Heirs of Promise worked. Any other student would have turned us in to get whatever leverage they could. Fuck, some of them would have done it just to deny us the satisfaction of our freedom.
But Tess shook her head. “I wasn’t going to let you go. I was going to figure out a way to follow you. But I never would have let them take you, Cyrus. I wouldn’t have put you in danger. I adored you.”
Her chest heaved as the words left her lips, but my lungs nearly collapsed. Adored me?
I blinked hard, trying to recalibrate. For all these years, I’d assumed that Tess only asked to come with us because Promise was such a nightmare. I thought she was just an impulsive little kid who didn’t want to be left out.
But as the weight of that word settled in my chest, panic flooded in with it.
Am I wrong? Is the story I’ve been telling myself wrong?
Suddenly, I didn’t feel certain of anything. A decade out, how many details had I forgotten?
Piercing pain cracked right through my skull, knocking me onto my ass.
While I tried to moor myself to reality, Tess saw her opportunity and took it. Headbutting me with enough force to knock me off-balance, she wobbled to her feet and ran.
Dizzy as she was, she quickly escaped the mouth of the skull and disappeared back into the darkness.
And I… just watched her. Unable to move, unable to think. Unable to live with the error I’d made.