Chapter 28 Jace
JACE
Idon’t know if I’m heading in the right direction, but I don’t fucking care either. What was I thinking? Why would everything magically be repaired just because Cyrus is back in my world, if he’s even real at all? Coming back here was a mistake—it was a mistake for him then, and one for me now.
Cyrus is a ghost—he’s dead. No matter how much it hurts my heart, it’s the truth.
Either way, it’s ridiculous to think him appearing again is going to solve all of my problems. The longer I’m here, the worse everything becomes.
My pop and Cyrus were right about one thing: the past belongs in the past. My mind is reeling from everything that’s happened in the last few days, struggling to make sense of it in a way that doesn’t lead to an endless spiral of questions.
Cyrus was murdered. Our fathers were in a cult. Despicable crimes happened in Devil’s Nest, out in those woods. Now, something much darker is hunting for all of us. It all sounds insane—I sound insane.
A branch snaps behind me, sending me sprinting until I reach the cow pasture.
My parent’s farmhouse sits in the distance, smoke lazily coiling from the chimney.
The familiarity is comforting after the night I’ve just had, but my rage seeps through.
It poisons my thoughts with images of my folks sitting around, enjoying a cup of coffee, still pretending everything is fine.
They’re not out looking for their only daughter, who charged out alone into the snowy darkness.
Maybe it would be easier for them if I just never came home, but I’m not going to give them the satisfaction.
The mid-morning sun glimmers across the snow-covered field.
The cows nudge the snow with their noses, working to reach the brittle grass below.
One of them moos, vocalizing its annoyance as I move past it.
I reach out to scratch behind its ears, but it startles, bellowing as it stumbles away.
“Fine,” I huff, pulling Cyrus’ flannel tighter around me.
My bare legs are exposed, the shirt only covering me to mid-thigh, but I don’t feel as cold as I did last night.
The sun is high in the now cloudless sky, but it’s likely my anger keeping me warm.
My mama is visible through the kitchen window, silently washing dishes at the sink. She looks at me, and I lift my hand to wave. Her face remains unchanged, not even a twitch to acknowledge my presence. I sigh, reluctantly accepting how this is likely going to go.
Mama opens the back door, tossing out the leftovers from a pot of stew. Brig bounds over, his tail wagging full force until his eyes land on me. He lets out a low whine, his tail curling underneath him. “What’s wrong, buddy?” I ask, leaning over and holding out my hand to him.
“Now don’t be that way,” my mama scolds, clucking her tongue.
“Be thankful you’re even gettin’ the leftovers.
” My head snaps to her, but she remains focused on the dog.
Brig backs up before spinning to run away.
Mama shakes her head, turning to go back inside.
I follow close behind her, waiting for her to say something to me.
Once we’re both in the kitchen, she slams the door behind me without even glancing in my direction.
“Mornin’, Mama,” I say, raising my voice just above normal. She only hums, washing dishes again. My face falls, unable to hide my hurt. “Or not.”
She pauses for a moment, pulling her robe tighter before returning to her task. It’s not the first time she’s used the silent treatment against me, especially after my pop took his anger at me out on her. There’s no use forcing it before she’s ready to talk, so I move on to the living room.
Pop doesn’t glance away from the tv, casually sipping his cup of coffee.
The phone rings, making me jump, and he answers it after the second ring.
“Mornin’,” he grumbles into the cordless receiver.
I can’t hear the words, but I can tell by the voice it’s Elias.
“No, I haven’t seen her since she stormed outta here last night. Figured she headed to you.”
There’s more garbled conversation, Pop holding the phone away from his ear. He knew I was going to Elias’ house and didn’t stop me, even knowing the type of monster he is. The betrayal stings worse than his slap on my cheek.
“Why you lookin’ for her anyway?” He finally asks the question I hoped he’d start with. “Frankly, Elias, it’s none of your got damn business where my daughter is!” he shouts, slamming the phone down on the couch.
My mama stands behind me in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen. “What’s he callin’ the house for?” she asks, voice stern but hollow. “I thought we talked about this.”
Pop’s face pulls into a frown, turning back to the television. “Just lookin’ for Jace is all. Told him to mind his own business, Kate.”
“I’m right fuckin’ here!” I scream, looking from one parent to the other. Neither of them acknowledges me, other than my mama giving a drawn out sigh. Pop grunts, changing the channel, seemingly unbothered.
“Fine,” I grumble, storming to my room and slamming the door.
I don’t make it to my bed before tears stream down my face.
I bury my face in my pillow, stifling my sobs.
No one comes down the hall or yells at me about slamming doors—I’d almost prefer it if they did.
I at least expected Cyrus to come, but if he’s here, he doesn’t make his presence known.
I’m not sure why he would, though, not after the way I left, leaving before he had the chance to abandon me again.
The lack of reaction is infinitely worse, like they don’t care whether I’m here at all.
I can’t keep doing this. I cut myself open for other people, forcing myself into the shape they demand of me—cutting deeper until there’s nothing left of me.
I let myself bleed out, draining any trace left of who I am.
How do I continue this way, cutting off the parts they deem intolerable, turning myself inside out, and still fail to be seen?
I lie in bed until my tears run dry, floating in and out of consciousness. Every once in a while, footsteps shuffle beyond my door, but it never opens. My eyelids drift closed again, and I’m stuck in stasis, unwilling to get up and face whatever waits for me out there.
“Jace.”
My eyes peek open, my hazy mind processing the sound. My lips quivers, fearing I only imagined it.
“Jace,” the voice whispers in my ear, a hand gently shaking my shoulder. “Come on, little doe.”
“Cyrus,” I murmur, the word sliding slowly from my mouth. “What are you doing here?”
“I promised I’d never leave you again, even if it means watching you from afar for the rest of this afterlife. I’ll always return to you, little doe. Even the shadowy veil of death can’t keep us apart.”
“You’ve been here the whole time?” A lump lodges in my throat. I sit up, watching the last glimmer of blood red sunlight dance across my bedroom floor.
“You got a bit of a head start,” he says, sitting next to me on the bed. He chuckles wearily, pushing his hair back. “Your folks say anything to ya?”
“No,” I groan, anger swelling in my chest. I let the feeling fade, unwilling to give them any more energy than I already have today. My voice softens into melancholy. “They’re still ignorin’ me, pretendin’ like I’m not even here. Your pop called mine, though, lookin’ for me.”
Cyrus grits his teeth, his jaw tightening. “That bastard has no limits. Only he’d call the parents of a girl he just kidnapped askin’ if they’ve seen her.”
His face scrunches, like he’s remembering something painful. His body shivers, and he turns to look at me, eyes glassy. I reach for his hands, folding them into mine. We’re silent for a moment, both waiting for the other to speak.
“Come with me? I have somethin’ I need to show you,” he finally says, helping me up.