Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
I wish I could say that this coldness is unfamiliar to me, but that would be a lie. I brush it off, nevertheless. His friend is missing, and that must hurt.
I peel the page of Tommy away and look through images of more missing Moons.
There are so many. How has this gone unnoticed for so long?
An uneasy feeling rests in my stomach as I stare into the eyes of Maddox.
He looks like a regular Moon, so I don’t know why I have such strong feelings about him.
I furrow my brows, inspecting his photograph further, and the pit in my stomach rises when I realise where I know him from.
“Ryder!” I call out loud enough for my voice to penetrate the bathroom door.
“What is it?” He sighs, still visually angry at the world, and walks out into the room.
“When did Maddox go missing?” Worry lines appear on my forehead as desperation takes hold in my voice.
“What? Why do you want to know that?” he asks, noticing the uneasy tone of my voice, and rushes to my side.
“Maddox Webb. When did he go missing?” I rearrange my words and ask him again, pointing to the poor boy’s face on the washed-out piece of paper.
“A few days ago… He was the most recent one.”
My eyes grow wide as his timely disappearance confirms my theory. I stand speechless, unable to find the words to explain myself.
“Why do you want to know, Asha?” he asks again, his eyes burning holes through my head.
“Did he always wear that ring?” I mutter, knowing the answer before he even has to answer.
Maddox is holding a silver chalice in his photo; it was probably taken at a Moon party.
On one of his fingers that holds the stem of the cup, a silver and blue hexagonal ring stares back at me.
The same ring I saw when I was out on Craize the other day.
And on his fingers, a silver polish is painted on each nail.
“I don’t know. I didn’t know him that well.” Ryder shrugs his shoulders and drops down to my level, his hands holding my forearms. “Why?”
“I’ve seen that ring before,” I mutter out, still in shock.
“When I was out on Craize the other day. There was this guy with Miss Worthington. He was moving a box. Like a really big box. So big, it had to be wheeled on a trolley. Anyway, the man dropped it, and the lid fell off… I couldn’t see much, but I noticed a ring.
That ring…and that hand… the nail polish…
” I point to the photographs again, and now it is Ryder’s eyes that are wide.
“You don’t think he was in that box, do you?”
Something in me wants him to tell me that it wasn’t him, that my mind was playing tricks on me, and I didn’t see what I saw, but I know that isn’t the case, and nothing can convince me otherwise.
Maddox was in that box.
“Where did you see him?” He cups my face and looks deep into my eyes as if what I have to say is as important as a dying breath.
“Near the peak of a mountain, just off Moon Castle.”
Before I can finish my sentence, Ryder is moving, grabbing certain necessities off the side and placing them into a black satchel, which he pulls down over his head and wraps around his waist.
“What are you doing?” I ask, slightly annoyed at his lack of communication.
“What do you think?” he snaps and walks over to his wardrobe, pulling out a black leather jacket with red details. “I’m going to find that mountain.” His harsh tone doesn’t waver, even when I tread the distance between us and stare into his eyes.
“You don’t even know where you’re going?”
He ignores my logic, so I grab my leggings off the wooden chair and aim to put them on as quickly as humanly possible, which causes me to stumble and Ryder’s head to snap my way.
“You’re not coming with me.” His jaw flexes as he glares at me.
“You can’t go alone, it’s too dangerous,” I plead with him as he slips the leather jacket over his large, muscly arms, the fabric stretching around his form. “You can’t stop me.”
He frowns at me and stops abruptly in his tracks.
“Asha, don’t test my patience. Not with this.” If his stare didn’t kill me, his tone might.
“I’m coming,” I state, feeling oddly superior in this moment.
He brushes off my glare and carries on doing what he is doing.
He grabs his heavy black boots that were neatly lined up by his door and slips them on before marching over to me, his boots thumping against his wooden floor, which creaks under his weight.
“Don’t make me tell you again.”
He points between my brow, and an involuntary lump settles in my throat.
It seems his mind is already made up. He kisses his teeth and attempts to walk towards his bedroom door, but I run in front of it and stand in his way.
Not one of my brightest moves, but the only thing I can think to do in this moment.
“Move, Asha.” The obsidian in his eyes wounds me again, and my heart jumps at his death stare.
Stand your ground, Asha! Placing my hand on his chest, I let out a shaky breath to calm my nerves.
“No.” I keep my chin up and my eyes locked onto his to show him that I am not going to back down. His heart pounds at my fingertips as the creases on his forehead deepen.
“I’m not asking!” He blows, but I stand firmly with my back pressed against the cold and rigid oak.
“Neither am I.”
He stretches out his arm and rests it on the oak beside my head. Images from the first night in the woods flash back to me. I feel his chest deflate as a sigh of pent-up anger releases from his lips and heats my face. The thumping in my fingers slows as Ryder’s fury declines.
He shuts his eyes and whispers, “I can’t just sit around knowing what I now know.”
“And I can’t let you leave knowing what I do.” My words ache for him to understand and claw at my chest as if keeping them in would destroy me. “You’re unprepared and alone… If you leave now and something happens to you… I-I would never forgive myself.”
Tears threaten to fall from my eyes, but I blink them back and stare at him in a blurry haze. “I just can’t bear the thought of losing you.”
His hand moves from beside my head, and he uses his palm to touch my face, gently rubbing my cheek to soothe me. I think he has finally received my message. He leans in and pecks my trembling lips.
He pulls away. “Okay… I won’t go.”
I peel his satchel off his body and drop it on the floor beside us.
“Got any better ideas?” he asks as his eyes move from the bag on the floor to me.
“Yes, actually I do.” My eyes sparkle up at his, and a hopeful glint encompasses his dark features. “But we’ll have to wait until sunrise.”