Chapter 3 #2
“The bars and walls have been reinforced with magic. They should hold.” His words didn’t fill me with confidence, and I could see they didn’t fill him with confidence either. Still, I wasn’t going to turn away now. Not a chance.
He smiled down at me, and then his face grew serious. The smile lines around his eyes moved up to his forehead, creating a frown.
“Do you want me to come inside?”
I swallowed hard before shaking my head, telling him no.
“Alright, I’ll be out here if you need me, okay? Just shout.”
“Thanks.” I could tell with the worry on his face that it pained him to let me go in there myself, but I appreciated that he knew it would be better without him there.
It would probably just cause issues and make Riley angry, and I knew if he was all riled up, then I would achieve nothing.
I was hanging on to the hope that I might be able to reach him through all that darkness.
I was nervous, though. Nervous to what I may find in there. Would there be even a shred of the Riley I knew and loved in there, or would I end up crushed by disappointment?
Sweat laced my palms and the back of my neck.
Then there was that niggle at my back, the one still slowly healing from the Asclepius.
The reminder that Riley was dangerous, of what he was truly capable of like this, and how far he would go to hurt me.
I wondered if I would ever get the image of him like that out of my mind.
If memories of our past together were powerful enough to overcome it.
I didn’t know, but there was only one way to find out.
Before Aster let me go, he grabbed my arm to hold me back from going inside.
“Remember, Alex, that no matter what he says, no matter who he appears to be in there… do not let him touch you. Understand?” I nodded my head and agreed.
“I understand.”
He looked like he was close to saying more as his eyes rose to the door, or should I say, to the threat he knew lay behind it. Then he shook his head ever so slightly before letting me go and stepping back.
I gave Aster one last, reassuring, smile before entering the building. The same patchy, duck-egg-blue concrete floor I had walked on in different circumstances greeted me mockingly, along with the mint green and yellowed-cream walls, as if they were saying, how did it come to this?
Last time, Riley was in the last of the seven cells, and I walked there with as much confidence as I could muster. I wasn’t quite ready for this conversation, knowing that it could go a hundred different ways.
I took a deep breath before I arrived in front of his cell, the old rusty wire mesh a much-needed extra protection between us.
Although I appreciated whoever had reinforced it with unseen magic too, because I would need all the added protection against him right now.
Once again, I asked myself how it had come to this?
I looked through the small cut-out in the wire.
He was sitting in the middle of the cot, his feet flat on the floor, his arms resting along the top of his legs.
He was completely still, like a statue set in stone, staring at the cell floor.
That blonde hair that had once been styled messily was now unkempt, dirty, and falling into his face.
His once perfectly straight nose was now slightly crooked and purple from when I had hit him with the chain.
The skin beneath his eye and through his eyebrow was scabbed over with what looked like the same black, tar-like fluid that had seeped from his broken skin in the basement. His camo trousers were crusty with tar and hung off him in some areas where Bronte’s lightning had caused damage.
It broke my heart seeing him like this. But then he moved, and I made myself focus on why I was here.
The movement was subtle. It was the darkness creating ripples beneath his skin like a wave rolling as one.
It pulsated through every vein, artery, and capillary in his body.
It made me shudder. And like a robot, his head tilted up just enough for those once hazel eyes, now red-rimmed, dark and soulless, to lock with mine.
“Alexandra.” The sound of my name coming from his lips used to make me feel something. Not lust or love like I had once thought, but alive in the sense that I mattered to someone.
Like true friendship.
But now, coming from him like this, it churned my stomach, and I was forced to swallow the bile rising in my throat.
In that moment, with that sadistic look on his face, I questioned how many people would have just walked out and told Aster that Riley was a lost cause.
Like some rabid dog, and the only solution was to put him down before he could hurt anyone else.
To put him out of his misery. To put a bullet to the head, get it over with quickly.
But not me. Because I had to believe that the Riley I knew was still in there somewhere. That he was being held captive within the confines of his own body. A prison not made from cinder block or metal, but one of the flesh.
“Riley,” I replied, giving myself time to gather my confidence and thoughts. In hindsight, I should have prepared more and written down questions to ask him, but here I was, and it was now or never.
He let out a laugh so demonic I felt like I was in a horror movie. It sent a shiver down my spine so strong that each syllable froze a different vertebra.
“Didn’t you get the memo, little soldier girl? Riley isn’t here anymore. Or is that name only reserved for the King?” he asked with a knowing grin, and I hated giving him the satisfaction of seeing it get to me.
I steeled my spine, despite how much it hurt to do so, forcing a veil of faux-bravery and indifference to smooth over my features.
Courage that, admittedly, was waning the longer I stood there looking at him.
Suddenly, he was up and had pressed himself against the door with a rattle of metal that was like an alarm bell going off.
I staggered back, making him grin at my fear.
“You look nice. All dressed up for soldier boy. Your man on the other side isn’t going to like that.”
I looked down at myself, expecting to see clothes stained with tar from Riley’s wounds and blood from mine, but was surprised to see the blue of denim jeans and the edge of bright white sneakers poking out from underneath the wide leg.
How I hadn’t noticed was beyond me, but it just showed how focused I was on this whole fucked up situation.
I ran a hand through my hair, no knots. I made a mental note to thank Bronte and Tiff later.
But then he went in for the kill and told me, “Oh, little bird, don’t you know when you have been played?”
I frowned so hard it felt as if my face would crack.
“Ha! Says the one using his body as a puppet! The real Riley never played me!” I defended, but when he started laughing manically, I felt it against my skin just like that blowtorch he had used.
Then he chilled me to the bone when he played on new fears and fed them with a hunger I never knew existed. All those doubts, all those times I questioned if it was real…
It all came crashing back at me like a wave of insecurities when he said, “I wasn’t talking about Riley.”
I took in a labored breath, making his grin deepen before he drove the dagger home, creating the biggest wound of all.
“I was talking about the King who left you to rot in this world while he is now free to cleanse his own…”
“…Thanks to the foolish key he made fall in love with him.”