Page 53 of Pretty Poison

“Thank you.”

He hums. “I-I want to sit in silence now.”

I nod, leaning my head into him, placing it on his shoulder.

In all the softness I’ve seen in him, this really does take the cake. He’s grieving them, staring at their gravestones with the knowledge that their bodies are somewhere where they don’t belong. I’m in awe that he's even able to carry on the way that he does. I would never come back from this the way he has.

Twenty Three

LIANA

Finally arriving at the compound, I resist the urge to break free from his tight grip on my hand and run towards the soldiers’ house. He’s sticking to his promise, taking me to see them, but suddenly, it doesn’t seem as exciting as I thought it would be. It’s like I’m hurling him into another sad and similar situation that he doesn’t realise he’ll be reliving until it’s too late.

“I can go alone,” I whisper, looking up at him. His eyes remain focused on the dimly lit path ahead of us.

Taking a deep breath, I watch as the door in front of us opens and Remi steps into the doorway as if he was anticipating our arrival.

“He’s going to stay with me in the hallway while you speak with them,” he finally says. “I don’t belong in your family… but I expect you to relay everything back to me.”

“Okay,” I answer, a slight glimmer of excitement coming back to me.

“But remember, I know when you’re lying, Liana. If you try to hide anything from me, and I meananything, I’ll know.”

I nod once, swallowing the lump in my throat. While I can tell he shows some reluctance in allowing me to see them again, he knows we both need it. Without me, he'd be at square onewith no information, and he needs this as much as he needs air to breathe. It’s like if he doesn’t get the information he’s been longing for, he’ll be stuck in a loop where all knowledge leads to a dead-end road, no justice coming from it. But if for some reason he prevents me from seeing them again, he’d lose me and he fucking knows it.

Now that I know he knows what it feels like to have lost a sibling—or, in his case, two—I just know he wouldn’t dare think of it. He’d be contradicting his own pain.

As we enter, the house feels somewhat colder than usual. I know that Remi likes to keep the AC on full blast to keep his soldiers on their toes, but this is preposterous; I’m freezing my fucking tits off here.

I try to pick up the pace with my steps, but his tight grip doesn’t relent. His strength keeps me at his side, his fingers digging into mine like he’s afraid to let me go.

“Too tight, Dario.” I wince, trying to release his grip. “Your grip is too tight.”

“I’m sorry, little one,” he whispers, loosening his grip.

We descend the stairs, Dario first, followed by me and Remi behind, Dario’s hand still holding mine. I’m like the spread in this sandwich, except the bread is two muscled men with disgruntled looks on their faces.

“Apollo first,” I tell him, and he nods, walking the length of the corridor in a few long strides, pulling me along.

This dress is not practical for this place. It’s too long, too constricting.

As we stop outside Apollo’s cell, I listen as a muffled clatter comes from inside. It startles me, begging for me to enter now.The second his metal door opens, I rush in, the door closing behind me.

The sight before me is unexpected. The chains around his wrists are loose enough to allow him to sit on the floor and eat from his metal tray, and new chains clasp around his ankles to prevent him from leaving. They’ve shown kindness to him—kindness to me.

“You’re back,” he says without looking at me, his words muffled by the food in his mouth. “Pardon my manners, won’t you? When you live in these conditions long enough, every bare necessity you’re neglected of is something to savour when it comes.”

I inch closer. “Can I—” I stop, his head instinctively shaking.

“I’m sorry, it’s just a reflex. You can sit,” he assures me, displaying a hand in front of him.

Without hesitation, I scrunch up my dress and sit.

“Such a pretty dress,” he says, reaching out to feel the fabric. “Never quite your style, though, was it?”

A breathy laugh escapes me. “No. No, it wasn’t. Perfect for the occasion, though.”

“You’re all grown up now,” he whispers on a breath. “Are you… happy?”

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