12. Rage & Regret – Atticus
12
RAGE & REGRET
ATTICUS
I should’ve come earlier.
My teeth grind as I linger in the hall outside Eli’s room. When I heard the distant sound of something smashing on the other end of the cabin this afternoon, I knew I fucked up. And if I wasn’t a hundred percent sure, the frantic way Aurora called my name all but cemented that fact.
But by the time I was across the house, Aurora was already outside, and the smashing and breaking down the hall had only intensified. I went to stop him before he could hurt himself but he was finished when I reached the studio door, and I couldn’t bring myself to open it.
Not when I heard him let out a choked sob on the other side.
He wouldn’t have wanted to see me when he was like that.
I thought he’d come charging after me to ream my ass out in no time, and I waited for it, but he didn’t come.
Seven didn’t, either.
That made it worse.
So much worse.
Fuck.
I knew Eli wouldn’t like it, but I didn’t expect his reaction to be quite so…
I’m supposed to protect them. It’s literally my only fucking job. Too bad I can’t protect them from my own damn stupidity.
“I can see the shadow of your big-ass feet under the door, Atticus.” Eli’s voice is muffled through the panel of wood.
I clench my fists and drop my head as I turn the handle and step inside.
Eli’s sitting on the edge of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. I don’t miss how the door to his studio has been left ajar. I can’t remember the last time I saw it open.
Even though the light is off inside the studio, I can smell the wood cleaner and see how the floor is free of debris.
“I hope you’re happy,” he says in a hollow croak.
“Eli, I…”
He lifts his head. There are dark rings around his eyes and he’s paler than I’ve seen him since when we first got him back.
A weight settles on my shoulders. On my chest.
“I never should’ve sent her in there like that.”
“No. You fucking shouldn’t have.”
“And I should’ve respected that you weren’t ready yet.”
He nods, interlinking his fingers and squeezing them in a way that must hurt. Like he wants the pain.
“Eli—”
“Don’t.”
He falls silent, and I hate it. I want the old Eli back. I want him to shout at me. Tell me how much of a dick I’m being. I want him to use his fancy vocabulary and tear me a new asshole with it.
This phantom version of him rips my goddamned heart out.
“Aren’t you glad it’s done?” I ask, only because it’ll piss him off. I need to stoke the slow-burning coals in his bitter stare back to a full fucking blaze. I at least have to try. “If I didn’t send that girl in there—if I didn’t do something about it?—”
He jumps to his feet, leveling me with a wrathful glare that gives me hope.
“She could’ve been hurt!”
“I didn’t know you’d go apeshit on her.”
He shoves me hard, and even though I hate seeing him upset, inside I’m relieved to see the fire in his eyes.
“You damn well should’ve!”
There he is. Yes. Get angry.
Feel it. Feel something!
“You know what the fuck I went through, Atticus. You know what he did to me!”
His throat bobs, and whatever relief I felt five seconds ago drains away.
My stomach twists, and something like bile burns in my throat.
“ You know what he did ,” he repeats, and I’m sure the whole fucking house can hear him. “And you did it anyway.”
There’s a lump in my throat that’s making it hard to talk. Hard to get out the words I’ve never been good at saying. So Elijah uses his instead.
“You can be such a selfish fucking prick, you know that?”
I bet that feels good. I wait for more, knowing it’s in there. Knowing I deserve it. But he stops and turns around with a heavy sigh.
“Elijah, I’m sorry.”
He whirls, cocking his head at me. The rage is still there, still simmering, but dying by the second.
“It’s not just me you owe an apology to.”
“I’m not going to apologize to her. I don’t even know h?—”
“Yes,” he snaps. “You are. This is your fault. I’ll take the rap for my part, but you can damn well own yours, too.”
I clench my teeth. He’s right. And if it means he’ll forgive me for being such an inconsiderate prick, then I’ll beg her forgiveness if I have to. I’d do anything for my brothers.
“Fine. I’ll apologize to the girl.”
A vein in his temple jumps as he sits back down on the edge of his bed and roughly pushes his rumpled hair from his face.
“Feel better?”
He scoffs, shaking his head.
“That’s the worst fucking part, Atty. I do feel better. Now that it’s done, it’s like this weight that’s been pushing on me…suffocating me…”
He pushes on his chest for emphasis, and I know what he means because I feel that weight, too.
“It’s gone.”
“But there’s a new weight there now.” His brows lower. “Because of your compulsive need to have everything around you in perfect fucking order, I scared the shit out of Aurora. God, I was a complete asshole to her. I don’t even recognize the person I was when I came into this room and saw her…”
I want to tell him that she’ll probably forgive him and that it doesn’t really matter, but it’s clear it matters to him, so I keep my trap shut.
“What can I do? Do you want me to talk to her?”
“Fuck no.”
Eli sighs again.
I rack my brain for another solution. Something to fix the mess I made. “Maybe I could?—”
“Just get out, man,” he says in a low tone that’s like a punch to the gut. “I’m done talking to you.”