Chapter 62 #3
“Wait, wait, wait. She knew?!” I cut him off, standing up and backing away as my chest starts to heave with panic. “Did you do something to my Gran?”
He stands, holding his hands up. “Now, Sage, this one I can explain too.”
I charge him and shove his chest with my hands as I scream, “What did you do to my Gran!”
Gritting his teeth, he grabs my wrists. “Sit down and listen.”
“No!” I shout, tears streaming down my face as sobs roll through me in painful waves. “Did you hurt her?!”
“No! It was an accident. I just wanted to talk to her!” he shouts, and I fall to the ground in a mess of tears and screams. “I swear, Sage! I would never do that to you. She slipped, and that’s it!”
I wail, my cries making it hard to breathe as I dig my fingernails into the carpet. “Gran, no, no, no! Gran!”
“I’ll come back later, okay? When you aren’t so emotional.
” Uncle Aaron grabs the bag he brought with him, and I don’t bother acknowledging his exit as he leaves the room, shutting the door and locking it.
I just keep crying, keep calling for my gran, hoping the gaping hole in my chest continues to open up and swallows me whole.
I’m in a state of catatonia when my uncle comes back, the four beige walls around me officially suffocating me.
“Sage?” Uncle Aaron says softly, but I don’t look up, my head feeling too heavy where it’s lying on the mattress. My limbs ache with grief, and I want to turn myself to a mist that fades away from this place.
“Sage?” he says again, his tone kind and careful as he sits down on the edge of the bed. “Can I continue with the story?”
I don’t move, and my voice comes out like gravel grating over the dry ground. “Okay.”
He clears his throat. “I never meant to hurt anyone, Sage. They were all accidents, all necessary to protect you. The only thing I’ve ever wanted was to protect you.”
“Well, that’ll be easy to do within these four walls,” I whisper, feeling helpless.
“Exactly!” Uncle Aaron says, not reading the dark sarcasm behind my words, like I’ve finally caught on to his insane plan.
“Eventually, I’ll need to figure out how to explain that you’re alive, so we can reintegrate back into the town, but it’ll all come together, Sage, okay?
I just need to figure out a way to deal with those boys. ”
I shoot up, renewed energy surging through me at the mention of my guys. I stare at my uncle, who still resembles the man I once knew—a friend, a safe place, my family—but I know that person is long gone. I won’t find the person I used to know within his corrupted soul.
“Don’t touch them,” I growl, feeling angry and scared and protective.
Sighing, he reaches for the bag he brought with him again. “I brought something that might change your mind about them, Sage.”
My jaw hurts as I clench it, but I watch as he pulls a leather-bound book from his bag—one I recognize. One I swore I’d never open and read. The journal from last year’s Hallows Games.
“I haven’t read this yet, so it’ll be a new story for the both of us.” He smiles, then cracks the book open to the first page and starts reading. “The Hallows Games—year twenty-one, October 31. Members—Kaiden Thorne, Vincent Donahue, and Beckham Bentley.”
I cut him off, knowing the name of the girl is next, not wanting to know who it is or what they did. “Please, stop.”
“This is for your own good, Sage. You need to understand that you don’t mean anything different to them than any of the other girls. You need this to get over them.”
“I don’t want to know,” I cry, a tear sliding down my cheek as nausea curls around my gut.
“I know, sweetie.” He scoots closer and puts a hand on my cheek. “But we need this.”
Before I can plead any more, he turns back to the book and continues. “Female Selection—Madison Marks.”
I recognize the name, but can’t pinpoint who it is, and I don’t have enough time to, because my uncle continues reading. “The details of the night are as follows, written by Beckham Bentley.”
My stomach cramps as nausea rolls through me in waves, not wanting to hear the story. I smash my eyes closed as my uncle keeps reading.
“Although the rules for documentation of the Games were set in place by the founders, as this year’s generation, we will not be cataloging in detail what happened with Madison.
It is our responsibility as Hallows Boys to grow and learn as the years go on, and we do not feel it’s appropriate to put onto paper what happened during the Hallows Games. ”
My lips twist into a smile, and my uncle narrows his eyes. “What the fuck?”
“Surprised?” I ask my uncle, and he meets my gaze.
“They’re supposed to document it,” he says, shaking his head as his face goes red with anger. “They can’t just change the rules and do whatever they want. That isn’t how this fucking works! We created the Game; they can’t just change it.”
He slams the book shut, stands up, and throws it across the room. I flinch, shrinking away from him as he starts yelling. “The rules are clear! They’re supposed to document everything!”
My hands start to shake, so I squeeze them into each other as I watch him pace back and forth, his voice getting louder. “Entitled, arrogant, horrible fucking generation! I’ll show them what happens when they break the rules!”
“What does that mean?” I ask, panicked as he looks at me again, rage burning in his gaze. His face splits into a smile, one that feels evil, and I stop breathing as terror snakes its way around my lungs.
“Oh, I’ll show them,” he says, his white teeth sparkling as his smile widens and he lunges for me.