Chapter 35 Kane
KANE
“Let me see him.” I sniffle. “He gets scared when he’s by himself.”
“Okay,” Lennox whispers. “I’ll take you to him.”
I thought I felt grief when Asher died. This indescribable chasm opened up in my chest and forever altered me because the one person who was part of me had been taken away.
But without Kid, I don’t want to exist. Without Kid, every breath is a battle.
I would happily kill the entire population to bring him back, regardless of their innocence or whether it was deserved.
There’s a different weight to this grief with all the questions bearing down on me. I could have saved him. If I came back straight away, he would still be here. If I told Lennox to go fuck himself, he would still be here.
My promise was bullshit. He knew it. If I made him see how sincere I was, that I wasn’t leaving him, then he wouldn’t have chosen death because he would know I was coming back. He would know what he means to me.
I fucked up, like I always do. Now my punishment is worse than anything I’ve ever experienced as Lennox guides me to the captives’ room.
Kid is naked and alone—two things he should never be.
I drop to my knees beside him, hot tears burning against my lower lashes as I slowly turn him around.
There’s blood all over his mouth, dried against his lips, pooling in the back of his throat as his head rolls back without the life needed for him to hold it up.
He’s still warm though. In this freezing fucking cold room, he still has some warmth.
“I’m sorry, Kid, I’m so sorry.” I hug him, covering his body with my own.
My chest rattles as I slowly press my lips to his hair. Hair cut like mine.
“I got my hair cut to match yours.”
All those fucking plans I made disappear before my eyes. There won’t be trips to a barber, movie nights, showing him his first real butterfly, or seeing who he becomes. They all fucking vanish, dying with him as my tears slip down my cheeks, soaking into his hair.
“I’m going to get you dressed, okay?” I whisper. “I promise I won’t touch you more than I have to.” I take out the pack of socks I found with colorful butterflies stitched at the top of them. “I thought you’d like these. Th-that you could keep the but-butterflies with you.”
His feet are so cold as I put his socks on.
I show him each item of clothing, telling him why I chose them as I dress him.
“These are like my sweatpants. They have secret pockets inside the pockets too and I…I thought you could hide stuff in them.”
I cup the back of his bloody head, cradling him against my thighs as I carefully pull the t-shirt over his head. “I got every color I could find, so you could pick your favorite.”
I pull a hoodie over his head, carefully laying the strings against his chest. “It’s like mine. You like—liked.” I exhale, my breath shaking. “My sleeves are too long for you. Now you have your own.”
Gently placing my arms under his lifeless body, I fall backwards. “I don’t know your shoe size, so I got a few different sizes for you to try on. You said you’ve never had them before an-and I don’t want them to hurt your feet forever because you won’t be able to take them off.”
I hold his feet, trying to warm them up as I rest my cheek on his temple. “I’m sorry for not knowing your shoe size.”
His face is even smaller, framed in the black hood as I keep my weight off him. But he’s smiling.
“I love you, Kid.” I slowly lower my head. “This isn’t like how everyone else touched you.” I softly press my lips to his forehead.
I’m not his father. But he’s my…kid. He was my kid, and I hug him tighter. “Be a butterfly now. Fly away from here. Never come back. I love you. I’ll make them all hurt for you.”
I lift his arms, gently placing them on his body before I slowly rock him. Taking his hand in mine, I delicately brush my thumb against his knuckles to clean the blood off them. His little hands that would make bird shapes or hold up how many words he was trying to act out.
My arm trembles as I slowly lift his hand to my lips, slowly rocking him. “I’m going to miss you forever, Kid.”
When his body cools, I stand with creaking joints and carry him out of the room. I continue walking when booted footsteps follow me.
I don’t stop until I’m in the cold air.
“I’ve never played in the snow,” he said once. I promised him we’d have a snowball fight, we’d build a snowman. I’d learn how to build an iglu so we could sleep outside.
“Kane?” Lennox says from behind me.
I keep fucking walking, trying to put as much distance between my beautiful boy and that fucking place.
Snow falls from the covered trees as I hug him tighter to keep him warm.
I don’t know how long I walk for, because I can barely see between my eyes swelling and the cold air freezing my tears to my skin.
The other cabin comes into view. So does Delilah in the window.
There’s a split second where her face lights up at our little boy in my arms. Lennox steps around me as I crumble.
The snow catches me, sinking in slow motion as I look up at the sky, wishing there was a fucking butterfly so I knew he was okay.
There’s nothing other than the hazy sun as it rises on the first day without my kid.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I’m so sorry.”
Footsteps crunch through the snow, getting faster until someone drops in front of me.
Delilah holds my nape to get me to look at her.
Her fingers gently work across my face, attempting to brush the tears away as a second pair of footsteps approach.
The sound of a shovel hitting compacted snow is next as Lennox silently digs while I introduce our boy to Delilah.
“Kid?” I stroke his cheek. “This is Delilah, from the pictures.”
“They can’t hurt him now.” She sits up on her knees, but I can’t feel her hands because she’s not really here.
If she’s not here, then neither is Kid.
As I look down with hope my head is so fucked I’ve made this shit up, I know it’s real.
I can feel his weight in my arms, how cold he is. There’s no footsteps leading to the cabin, only Lennox’s further ahead.
“I’m sorry.” I kiss his cheek. “I was coming back. I was always going to come back.”
Lifting him higher to combat the cold, I lay his head on my shoulder and cover his little face with my cheek.
“We were supposed to put the jigsaw together. Find your favorite color. I think it was going to be green because you always picked the green butterflies first. You’re going to make the most beautiful butterfly, one with all the colors.
Huge wings. You’ll never be in the dirt again.
I’ll find Xanthe and Jasper so they know you’re a butterfly too. ”
My throat is closing up, eyes swelling as I continue whispering every thought, every feeling I’ll never be able to tell him again.
“I love you. So fucking much. You will always be my best friend, okay? No one else. You’ll always be my kid. No one will ever take that away from me. You keep flying away, far away from everyone.”
A part of me will forever be broken. Revenge won’t give it back. Mourning someone who made their mistakes is easier than the loss of someone innocent who never had an opportunity to even know who they are. This grief is layered, each more painful than the last.
Who could he have been if he wasn’t born in this place?
What would his laugh sound like if it was free?
How many dimples would he have if he was ever given the opportunity to smile?
How much pain had he seen in his short life that he was so accepting of death?
How many seconds robbed me of him?
Would it be different if I spent less time watching Delilah sleep? Or if I didn’t give in to my bodily desires?
There has to be something to pinpoint the catalyst of my life altering.
I hold his hand how he liked when he would go to sleep as I whisper, “No one can hurt you now. Go to sleep, Kid.”
Numbness settles into my limbs as I keep swaying from side to side so slowly it barely disturbs the air. I don’t know if it’s the cold or something deep inside me, but I can’t feel anything.
I don’t know how long I remain in place for when the clunks of earth being moved stops. The sun is brighter as I look up, which feels wrong. Why is the sun shining during the darkest fucking moment in history?
“Little shadow?” Lennox whispers through the fog of my grief. Which is also wrong. Nothing should take precedence over Kid. Not a voice or the weather.
“It’s ready,” he says. He walks over to me, then lowers to his haunches, arms outstretched for my boy.
“No.” I hug him tighter. “He gets scared when he’s alone. He can’t sleep unless I hold his hand.” My cheeks thaw under the heat of my tears as I blink. “I won’t be able to hold his hand.”
The air fogs in thick lines as he harshly breathes through his nose. But his voice is still soft as he says, “You don’t need to hold his hand anymore.”
“Then he won’t be able to hold my hand and—” I clear my throat. “And I won’t know if he’s okay.”
“He’ll be okay, little shadow.” Lennox cups my face, laying his other hand over Kid’s hand in mine.
“No one will be able to hurt him.” There’s no cryptic warning or riddle for me to decipher.
Not now when he clearly says, “If we don’t do this now, they will find him.
You will be served his body, so let go of him here.
” He places his hand on my chest. “Not here.”