Chapter Thirty-Two #5
Her face is alight with stuff I hate seeing. She’s supposed to be a rock. She’s supposed to be empty, like me. Instead, we’re both drowning in bullshit emotions, and it fucking sucks.
“The Warden had Ren in the East…” she murmurs. “Ever since the new guards arrived.” There’s a ringing in my ears that won’t stop. “He was down there the whole time, laced up and being fucking tortured.”
“W-why…?”
“Why do you think??” she grits out. “Because he fucking said so. I’m not sure what was going on when the prison fell…
I was outside, stuck in the old armory. All I know is that Luthor and Ren got out somehow…
and they made a break for it.” She exhales, blinking slowly.
“They took a boat. Went out into the storm… And no one’s seen them since. ”
I’m being smothered. Concrete blocks of despair are burying me alive, and I can barely move or breathe.
“M-maybe they…” I croak, words clogging my throat. “Maybe… they made it.”
“Byron…” she whispers my name patronizingly. “Wake up. They’re dead.”
I bend at the waist.
“There’s no possible way they made it out of that storm alive.”
“Stop…” I whimper, pressure building behind my eyes as I cover my head with my hands. “ Please …”
“Your friends are dead because of that asshole!” she cries. “Because escaping was their only option! The Warden would’ve killed them himself… How many times has he tried?? And he’ll kill you too! He’ll kill us all if we don’t stop him, you know that!”
“ What do you want from me?!” I straighten, barging up to her face.
“You think I can do something about it?? I can’t stop him!
None of us can! He has a fucking army , Joy.
Hundreds of cartel men with heavy artillery that could wipe out five of this fucking prison!
Sending me over here was just a test… If he wanted to, he could kill us all right now with the snap of his fingers. ”
“So… what? You’re just gonna run back over there and join his team? To survive?? Is it worth it??”
“No,” I sigh, defeated. “It’s not. But I need to go back for him. Trevel… cares about me. I know you can’t see it, because you don’t want to. But he does, and I’m not going to leave him alone over there. I’m just… not.”
Brushing past her, I barely make it a foot before she grabs my arm. I spin to face her, and this time, she’s in my face.
“Fuck you,” she growls, hand dropping to her pistol. “Don’t make me do this…”
I’m smoldering at her with my eyes, hardened in betrayal… Masking hurt. Lots of it. “If you’re gonna kill me, at least have the guts to do it with your bare hands, jeulgeoun .”
Her fury is mirroring mine. But it doesn’t last long. It fizzles off into sorrow fast, and she slouches, shaking her head.
“Fuck it,” she croaks, like she’s giving up too.
Shutting me out, like Velle did. She storms away, and I stand here…
In this broken mausoleum of lost souls.
I’m every bit as destroyed as the prison as I weave my way through the trees. This small forest, now a battleground, was once an elusive and mysterious place I’d only heard about.
A year ago— hell, even a month ago —I would’ve given anything to be out here, frolicking through the woods at night, inhaling ocean air while waves crash off in the distance. But now, I don’t want to spend one more moment out here than I need to.
The mansion, as beautiful as it is, feels like my new prison. Nowhere on this island is safe. There’s no place for me, in any of it.
What would it feel like to have a home…? I’m not sure I’ve known the feeling of belonging since my grandfather died.
Heading for the shore, I keep my ears open to the sounds of threats.
The Warden’s men could kill me. I’m sure they wouldn’t feel bad about it, whether he directly wants me dead or not.
But based on what Velle was saying, I think this area of the forest is being patrolled by a different kind of monster.
The snap of a twig stops me fast, and I whip around. It’s dark as fuck, and I have no flashlight. Though that might be a good thing…
Crossing the west side of the island, I can see the shore through the trees.
I wish I knew what I was looking for. Truthfully, I’m not even sure why I’m out here.
I should just go back… Back to Trevel. Let him heal me with his touch and his presence.
It might not be completely pure, but it’s worth something, I know it is.
When I’m as confident as I can be that the coast is clear, I make my move, sneaking between the trees and over to the shore. I see something right away, and my heart is already in my throat. Rushing to it, I drop onto my knees in the sand.
There’s a piece of split wood sticking out. Using my hands, I dig frantically, shaking and sputtering for breath. Based on the chipped paint and the size of it, I think it might be…
My bottom lip is trembling as I lift the hunk of wood out of the sand, looking it over and cursing God, or the universe, whoever is responsible for this.
Because I can feel it in my heart, splintering down the middle like this piece of wreckage from a small boat…
This was them.
Luthor and Ren…
They really are dead.
Falling forward, I press my forehead to the debris, fighting back tears that are forcefully driving their way out of my eye sockets.
“No…” I cry quietly, shaking my head over and over. “No no… please .”
I whip the piece of wood away, punching the sand. Agony is rippling throughout my entire body with nowhere to go. It’s pulling me under…
A noise has me lifting my head, aiming blurry vision toward the woods.
“Felix…?” I sniffle. I don’t see anyone.
But I do see something else that’s apparently washed up onto the shore… A backpack.
Crawling over to it, I open it up. The thing is soaked, but I find an unopened bottle of water and some mushy granola bars inside. An aggrieved sound leaves my lips.
This is theirs. I know it.
They’re fucking gone…
My best friends in the entire world. The only real friends I’ve ever had.
The friends I called selfish and toxic . The friends I abandoned for a striking stranger with purple eyes…
“ No! ” I roar and sob and choke. “ Fuck … why??”
My heart has split into fragments of its own wreckage. And all I can do is remember…
“So yea… That’s the story of me and Ren,” Luthor said, frowning at the cafeteria table with sadness in his light green eyes.
“That sounds… like a nightmare,” I rumbled.
I was out of my league listening to his relationship drama. But still, it felt good just listening. Having someone confide in me.
“You can say that again.” He chuckled.
I could tell he was upset, and alone. And something in me just wanted to help. To be needed .
So I said, “Hey, feel free to vent to me anytime.”
Luthor’s face sprung, his eyes meeting mine. “Really?”
“Yea. I mean, I just got here. It’s not like I have friends or anything…”
“You do now.” Luthor smiled kindly. Instantly and blindly accepting.
It wrapped me up like a warm blanket of comfort I needed so badly, after everything I’d been through; the secrets that landed me here.
“Cool,” I mumbled, downplaying it. “And don’t worry. I’ll be on your side, no matter what. Loyalty is everything, after all.”
Luthor chuckled, shaking his head knowingly. “You say that now…”
My brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”
“Just wait until you meet Ren.” He bit his lip, fiddling with his fingers. “He’s dazzling enough that you’ll probably forget all about any allegiance to me…”
I squinted at him. “I think I’ll be alright…”
Shuddering through the pain, I gasp for air. Seeing it all, flashing through my mind like a broken slideshow, crackling and burning away the memories. Three years… Three fucking years. Of laughter and camaraderie.
Blue eyes and black hair and plush lips…
Three years of passing the time together.
“Don’t fight me…”
“Shut up.”
“Tell me it doesn’t feel good, though, Byron…” Ren’s deep voice purred, playing those games so well.
Burdened with a lustful need that would radiate from him like a pheromone, too alluring to resist…
Giving up and in, my hands traveled his frame. “You’re… sure? That Luthor doesn’t care…?”
“I’m doing this for him,” he whispered, opening for me. “To have him.”
Proxy or not, he wound up deep within my chest… His flames encircled my heart as he scorched me alive.
“Fuck you…” I curl up in the sand. “Why’d you… have to…”
This ache is so very pungent, like smoke filling my lungs, suffocating me with every inhale. More than just grief, it’s guilt. For so many reasons; over so many fucking things.
They’re gone, and I never got to apologize.
He’s dead… and I never got to tell him…
Something rustles between the trees.
“Felix?!” I gasp. “Just… kill me. Please …” Crying and wrenching in agony, I plead…
“Just do it! Fucking kill me already, because I don’t deserve to be here!
I don’t deserve to live and not them… I’m a terrible friend and an awful fucking person…
” I sputter for air. “I was supposed to be… pretending. But I don’t think I’ve ever known how… ”
Lying on the shore, I’m just waiting for it. A bullet to hit me, or The Carver to pop out and slit my throat. I’m praying for an end to this torment.
But it doesn’t come. I’m forced to lie here and confront it all…
The knowledge that my friends are dead, and I never got to tell either of them the truth.