9. Ren
9
REN
I knew better than to think there was any kind of, like, feeling behind Xander getting me out of there. He stormed New Haven to save his daughter. I happened to be there, was all. I’m sure he did it more for my parents and for Luna.
The second we clear the front gate along with the rest of the team Xander brought along, I’m escorted into an SUV while Scarlet is ushered into another. Nobody says a word. It’s just understood that I’m not going to ride with them. The most I get out of Q is a dirty look before he climbs into the vehicle with his family.
There’s plenty of time to think as we make the long ride back to where I have no idea what’s waiting for me. I feel like I should prepare myself for all possibilities, since the last thing I want is to get caught unaware by somebody as dangerous and well-connected as Xander Rossi. My head’s still aching enough to be a distraction, but I can’t let it get in the way.
They don’t trust me. That much I know without anybody throwing it in my face. I mean, the armed men sitting on either side of me in the backseat tell a clear story without a word needing to be spoken. I’m sure Scarlet told her family all the same shit she told me, all that bullshit about River, about me being sick. Why does she have to use that word so much?
They don’t trust me, so they will probably keep me locked up somewhere. Either that, or they’ll drag me straight to Xander’s office and interrogate me for as long as they feel like it. About what? For starters, about all the shit that happened back at Corium. It feels like a lifetime ago.
They won’t understand, no matter what I tell them. There’s no way. They weren’t there. They only think they understand the hell River and I and so many others went through.
What if they want to know where River is? Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell them. I won’t desert my brother the way he deserted me. That’s not how I operate.
Once we’re back at the compound, I’m dragged from the SUV in silence. There’s no time to appreciate being back in a familiar place before I’m forced to get moving across the wide lawn. “I can walk on my own,” I mutter, not that it matters. They have their orders, and they know better than to slip up.
With both of my arms held in a vise grip, I’m led around to the east wing of the main house while Xander and his kids walk up the front stairs. Scarlet manages to crane her neck and look my way only once, and only for a second, before Xander says something to distract her from me. What is she thinking? How is she feeling? She looked worried, that much is for sure. For herself or for me?
There’s a door set in the house’s foundation, half covered by ivy. The hinges squeal when one of the guards opens it, and when I peer inside, I see there’s nothing beyond it but a set of stairs leading down into inky darkness. There isn’t enough room for the three of us to walk side-by-side so one guard stands in front of me and the other behind me, giving me no choice but to descend and face my fate.
The cell they shove me into is small and cold. The kind of cold that seeps into a person’s muscles and bones. I’ve gone from one cell to another. Lucky me.
“Can I get something to drink?” My question goes unanswered. The men walk away on heavy feet, leaving me alone down here with nothing but silence as company. Well, I’m used to being alone.
Iron bars separate me from freedom, though my captivity could be worse. Compared to New Haven, this is a four-star hotel. A sink, a toilet, a cot. Not everybody has a small prison in their basement, complete with plumbing.
I drop to the cot, which is only about a hundred times more comfortable than that shitty excuse for a mattress at New Haven. I might be a prisoner, but I’m afforded a little bit of dignity.
What’s the endgame here? Now that I’m locked up, there’s the question of what comes next. Why keep me prisoner? What do I need to do to get out? Do they ever plan on letting me out?
New footsteps, and this time they aren’t so heavy and plodding. I sit up and face the bars with my hands gripping the mattress. The footsteps get closer. Two pairs.
It’s one thing to know Q hates me for everything I’ve done. I can handle that—I knew this was how it would end up. I followed River’s orders because it was more important to get revenge on the man who let Rebecca live than it was to honor my history with the Rossi family. She should’ve died so all the evil could die with her, but Xander let her slip through his fingers. That much, River and I always agreed on.
It’s the way Q is looking at me that’s tough to swallow. I don’t expect his forgiveness, and I won’t ask for it unless I know I’ll get it. I’m not going to throw myself at his feet and beg.
Xander clears his throat, standing with his hands folded in front of him. “Thanks to you, we were able to get Scarlet out of there.”
“Thanks to you, she was there in the first place,” Quinton growls. As if I’m the one who abducted her. Like I touched the whip to her back.
The thought of her back makes me ask, “How is she? I wasn’t really able to get a good look at what they did.”
That’s all it takes for Xander’s face to darken while his eyes go hard. “She’ll get over the physical pain.” I know what he’s trying to say without putting it into words. She won’t get over the emotional part of it so easily. Or at least that’s what he thinks. I know she is much tougher than he believes.
“Somebody kicked the shit out of you,” Q observes, smirking as he looks me up and down. He sounds pretty happy about it.
“Yeah. That came after I called you.” I touch a hand to my left cheek, where it stings, thanks to a punch somebody gave me back there. Now that I am in full light, the dried blood on my knuckles is an ugly reminder of what happened tonight.
He growls. “It wasn’t as much as you deserve.”
“Enough,” Xander mutters out of the corner of his mouth. “There are other visitors here to see you. I’ll give you a minute to wash up there at the sink. I don’t want your mother or sister seeing you this way.”
Mom. Luna. Shit. As glad as I am to see them, I know what they must be thinking. Obviously, they were already here. They couldn’t have shown up this soon after my arrival otherwise. What has Xander told them? How much do they believe?
He’s right about one thing. I don’t want them seeing me like this. I wash up quickly, not stopping until the water in the sink is clear instead of a murky brownish red. I run my wet hands through my hair, hoping to settle it down a little. By the time I’m finished, there are quick, soft footsteps coming down the hall that runs in front of the cells. I can hear my sister’s short, breathless gasp before I see her. She takes hold of the bars, gripping them tight enough for her knuckles to stand out light against her skin.
Before she can say anything, she’s cut off. “Luna.” Dad’s voice is sharp. I don’t know why he’s scolding her or whether he thinks I’m dangerous. I only know her face falls before she looks at the floor. Mom and Dad join her, with Dad keeping an arm around Mom’s waist. She’s leaning against him, one hand on his chest, and her face crumples when our eyes meet.
Now I know what an animal in a zoo feels like. That’s how they’re staring at me. Like I’m an animal. Like they don’t know me, like I’m some predator. An almost sick impulse bubbles up close to the surface, so close it would be easy to give into it. I should give them what they want. I should be the monster they expect me to be.
“Hello,” I mutter, sitting on the cot again. Why are they looking at me like that? I know what I’ve done, yes, but of all people, I would expect them to understand. They know what I came from. Where I was before they took me and Luna in. They know the hell I went through.
“How are you feeling?” Mom whispers. Her chin quivers, but she tightens her jaw like she’s fighting off her emotions.
“Oh, I’m in great shape.” I flex my right hand, where my knuckles are bruised, if not bloody, anymore.
“We know you didn’t mean it.” There’s a catch in Luna’s voice, but what grabs my attention is the way Dad stiffens all at once. When she looks up at him, he shakes his head slightly with his brows drawn together.
“What are you talking about?” I look at them one at a time, searching for answers. It’s like we’re having two different conversations here, and I don’t understand why.
“The things you’ve done.” Dad’s voice is tight, stern, but I hear something else in it. Sadness? I guess that makes sense. I’m sure they’ve heard all about how I betrayed Q and everybody else. This shouldn’t come as a surprise.
“I had my reasons.” When the three of them stare at me, I shrug. “I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say. I did what I had to do.”
“Oh, Ren…” Mom turns her head and presses her face against Dad’s chest. Her full-body shudder makes my chest go tight.
“And what about… River?” Dad asks.
“We worked together.” He winces like he’s in pain, making me ask, “Well? You wanted to know. He got out of there, the way I did, and we decided to do what nobody else would. We have to put an end to it, all of it. Don’t you understand?” It’s so obvious to me.
“You don’t remember what happened to him?” Luna’s face crumples before she sniffles loudly. “You really don’t?”
“Why does everybody keep asking me things like that? Why won’t you listen to me?” I feel it happening. The heat, the rage, it wants to claim me. There is nothing more frustrating than trying to defend myself when nobody wants to listen. “Stop looking at me like I’m crazy!” I shout when the three of them do exactly that. They’re sorry for me. They might be afraid of me.
Dad’s throat works as he swallows hard, then tightens his grip on Mom. “We’re going to get you the help you need,” he murmurs before putting his other arm around Luna and gently but firmly turning her away from the cell before leading them both away. “We’re going to help you.”
I can’t believe this. How did they all get this idea about me? Why are they so eager to believe it? Like they’ve already made up their minds.
Why can’t I remember what happened after I fought with Scarlet?
No. I don’t want to think about that now. My head’s pounding again, hard enough to make my stomach churn. I glance toward the toilet, wondering if I’m going to throw up, though I can’t remember the last time I ate. How do I not remember that? There’s a huge, blank space in my memory. I know I ate at the hotel, but when was the last time I did? I can’t even remember what it was that I ate.
I don’t want to think about it, but I have to. I have to force myself through it, the pain and the confusion and the questions. The more I try to remember, the more holes I find in my memory. What happened before I woke up at the cabin alone? What happened so many times when I woke up with no memory of going to sleep?
It’s like a seed has been planted in me and it’s starting to sprout and take root. It grows quickly, spreading through me, filling me with something as close to fear as I’ve ever known. Not the kind of fear I lived with when I was a kid at Safe Haven. This is the sort of fear that’s a lot stronger and deeper, because for once, I’m not afraid of an outsider. Somebody bigger and stronger.
I’m afraid of myself.
What if they’re right? What if there’s really something wrong with me?
I rack my brain, going back to all the times I talked to River, all the times I’ve seen him. I never understood how he got into Corium, how he got in and out without anyone noticing, and until now, I never really questioned it either. Could it really have been all in my head?
Everyone I’ve ever trusted seems to be so sure River only exists in my mind. Maybe it’s time I believe it too.