Chapter 5
MALIN
Since Kos’ birthday party, I’ve woken up every morning to Ryan’s voice loud in my ear, telling me I need a good, thorough cleansing. I need to wash away the sins of letting another man touch me.
I’ve argued that he barely touched me at all. Just to help me learn my balance. My hand. My elbow. That’s it.
Ryan does not accept this at all. No one is allowed to touch me but him.
You’re dead! I remind us both.
He’s relentless, though. His incessant nagging is making me agitated. My muscles remain tense throughout the day, so I ache by the time I lie down at night. Not that Ryan’s voice has business hours. He haunts my dreams, too.
A combination of memories of him cleansing me and him scolding me for being disloyal to him. I’m his favorite boy. His sole joy. I’m supposed to set the example of a perfect member of the temple. Instead, I’m committing sins for the world to see.
On the fifth morning, I feel like I haven’t slept in a month. I’m so damn tired. I’m grumpy and frustrated and kind of want to break down and cry because I’m exhausted.
He’s trying to drive me to death, too. I know he is. He lives on in my head to drive me insane because I didn’t follow him into death like I was supposed to.
“Morning,” Avory greets when I step into the kitchen. He’s sorting the breakfast delivery. When he looks at me, he frowns. “What’s wrong, Malin?”
I shake my head. I’ve told Avory and Ellory that I hear Ryan’s voice and see him sometimes in places that he’s always been in relation to me. They know. They also don’t know what to do about it.
“Nothing,” I murmur and fill a glass of water from the fridge tap. The chill of it makes me shiver.
“Not sleeping?”
“No.”
“Do you want to talk to Mark?”
Mark is the family doctor. He practically lives here these days with all the kids around—between well-child checks, kids’ colds, and pregnancy, the Van Dorens might as well be his only clients.
“No, thanks.” There’s no cure for this. I know that. Not until I can figure out how to shut Ryan up. I’m forced to endure him in death just as I had in life.
“I’m going into the office,” I tell him.
“You want me to pack up some breakfast?”
I’m about to say no, but I pause. My stomach growls. I didn’t eat last night because Ryan was giving me a headache. “Yes, please.”
“Hold on just a second.” I watch as he opens cabinets until he finds what he’s looking for. Avory takes one of the plates and puts each component into a different section of the partitioned food container. He sticks the lid on and then puts it into a pack that retains heat.
I take it from him when he offers it. His hand grips my wrist before I can pull away. I meet his eyes. “Don’t wait too long to talk to Mark. Sleep is a necessity, Malin.”
I nod. “Okay.”
I know they worry about me. I’ve always been a worry for them. Since the moment I ran to Ellory on the boat off the island. Terrified. Alone. Grieving.
Avory smiles. It’s not a happy smile. More like an acceptance of my agreement. I leave the house and climb into the car they bought for me.
I’m not sure I actually accomplish anything at work. I’m not even sure I have an actual job. I just go into the office designated for me whenever I want and push papers around on my desk. Click through my email. Hopefully, not screw anything up while I tap around on the computer.
I hope I’m given fake things to work on. Or at the very least, someone has access to my computer and can undo anything I fuck up. Like a child’s phone, where a parent can access it remotely.
I drive slowly. With the influx of brothers living on the Estate now, there are more cars.
They drive kids to the school on the adjacent property before either going home or to the office building.
I’m not sure many of them work anymore. Avory and Ellory don’t. Imry doesn’t, though I think Haze does.
I wonder if they’ll work again once the kids are in school.
I stop at the intersection. Straight on brings me further around the lake and to the office.
If I take a right, I head to the gates that lead to the school.
A glance at the time says that it’s still drop off, so I continue straight.
I have no business there, and I remember what my therapist told Ellory.
Because I was sexually abused as a child, I’m more prone to becoming a predator.
It makes my stomach churn. Is it true, or was that just one person’s sick opinion of me? Do victims of abuse become predators? I haven’t found the courage to research whether that’s true because I’m afraid of the answer.
I have no desire at all to hurt anyone. I don’t even want to touch anyone. I’ve been touched so damn much that I enjoy not being touched. Even innocent touch can sometimes feel icky.
I park my car in the underground garage and take the elevator to the top floor. Most of the Van Dorens who work here are on the top two floors.
It’s not that they’re separate and unreachable. The entire building has access to the top floors, and the office doors are almost always open to everyone. Daddy Jalon believes in true open-door access. Closed doors mean do not disturb. Open doors mean collaboration.
The elevator stops on the third floor, and Jalon steps inside. He smiles at me. “Hello, Malin.”
“Hi.” I’ve been told I can call him Daddy Jalon or Grandpa or Uncle if I’m more comfortable with that, but something inside me says I’m an outsider who’s parading around under the Van Doren name when I have no right to it.
Hmm. I think those thoughts are in Ryan’s voice.
“How are you?” Jalon asks.
He’s such a kind man. I study him and wonder what it would have been like to have someone like Jalon raise me.
“Stop lusting after another man!” Ryan’s voice yells.
I’m not lusting. I’m wondering what a real childhood would have been like. “I’m okay,” I answer. Tired. Feeling angry and frustrated because I’m so tired.
Jalon nods. I think he knows I haven’t told him the truth.
“How are you?” God, this feels so formal. We’re supposed to be family. Aren’t we? I’ve never been good at conversations, though.
“I’m very good. Greylyn was asking about you yesterday. She hasn’t seen you on the lake this week.”
Greylyn keeps tabs on everyone. I kind of love it. The thought almost makes me smile. But then I wonder why I haven’t been on the lake.
“Bounce houses,” I say, frowning. They were still here when I looked last. That’s a lot of noise and takes away from the peace of the lake.
“Ah. We can find another location for them,” Jalon says.
The doors to the elevator open, and we’re on the top floor. I shake my head. “It’s okay. You can put them wherever you want them.”
“I want you to be able to enjoy the lake,” he says. “It’s not a problem at all. I’ll have them moved this afternoon.”
“Are they yours?” I ask.
He smiles. It’s a handsome smile. “I bought them, yes. I figured that the kids can enjoy them, and they’re easily changed out. Also, they’re not permanent, so we can take them down whenever we want, unlike a wood or metal structure.”
“Oh. That’s strategic.”
Jalon chuckles. “I thought so. Have a good day, Malin.”
I nod. “You too.” I watch him walk down the hall for a minute before turning toward my office.
I have a coveted corner office, so my windows face two different directions.
I can see a sliver of the lake and a wide-open view of the fields with the big house in the distance.
Also, I can see that the bounce houses are still there.
This morning, as I step up to my office, I stop dead inside the door. There are piles and towers and stacks of what I think are phone books all over my office. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, telling me that Ryan is just over my shoulder, looking in.
There’s a strange sense of déjà vu. Maybe the scene I’m looking in on is different, but I’ve stopped in the door just like this in the past with Ryan standing over my shoulder. A phantom touch reminds me of where his hand landed on my shoulder.
Swallowing, I step inside. That’s when I see Gracen sitting in the chair in the corner, though he stands quickly when he sees me.
He’s a big guy. Bulky. Hairy. His arms are enormous, and his hands are big too. By all means, he looks intimidating, and yet, I’ve seen him almost every day since he moved here, so I’m not entirely bothered by his appearance in my office.
My brain says he’s safe.
Then again, my brain still misses Ryan’s love so… can it truly be trusted?
“Hello, Malin,” Gracen greets.
“Hi.” I try to set my breakfast down, but there’s no open surface. I’m very confused.
Gracen walks to my desk, where one of the many phone books is lying open. Is this some strange project that I don’t remember being told about? I watch as he lays his hand flat on a page and then crumples it, tearing it out. He balls it up and tosses it to the floor. Then he turns to look at me.
Okay… I’m not understanding this message.
With a smile, Gracen holds out his hand for me to give him my meal. I do. He then gestures to the phone book.
Am I supposed to do that?
I stand in front of it and stare down. We’re in the H’s. Harris. Harris. About a hundred Harrises. Then we move on to Harrison. There’s a whole lot of them, too.
“Rip it,” Gracen says. “Rip it and toss it aside.”
Ryan’s laughter fills my head. I shudder and slap my hand to the book. The first tear echoes in my head. The crumpling of paper is loud, too. I toss it aside and grab another. Another. I use both hands and shred the book.
Each handful of paper releases something inside me, and I feel a little more wild with each page that comes loose. The tears drown out Ryan’s voice. He gets louder. Yelling at me to stop being a child. Stop making a mess. Stop being a sinful boy.
I only stop when I run out of book. It’s empty. I even tore apart the cover, and now I’m staring at the spot where it had been. My hands twitch.
Another book appears, and I feel like I dive for it. I’m reminded of the time I took the chainsaw to the tree to try to get rid of Ryan. I hacked it apart until it was so weak that the tree fell. Still, Ryan didn’t go away.
Tears streak down my face as I tear apart book after book. Until I feel like I’m falling off a cliff with Ryan still in my ear, telling me I’m not dying correctly. I’m going to hell for being such a sinful boy.
Gracen is there. He steps close, and I practically fall into him, pressing my face into his chest. I inhale deeply, trying to catch my breath, and… he smells so good. Spices and… something. So many somethings.
I continue to breathe him in as I regulate my breathing. It isn’t until I’ve caught my breath that I realize the difference.
Ryan is finally silent.