Page 21 of Wreck and Ruin

With Father not being around as much, I’ve had a lot more freedom to visit my stranger. I savor those quiet moments with him, hidden away in his cave. I can’t seem to stay away no matter how wrong I know keeping him here is.

Whenever he tells me to let him go, it feels like a knife is twisting inside my chest, knowing that he wants to leave me. I respond by walking away. And now, when I visit, I choose times when I know he'll be asleep to avoid any thoughts of him being gone altogether.

He doesn’t understand that releasing him is an awful idea. He says that he will help me escape too, yet he fails to remember that there are others here. Others, like Father, who would hurt my stranger if he was caught. Especially if Father learned that he means something to me.

All Father does is take from me. My mother. My body… everything. And I refuse to let him take my stranger too. Tying him up is for his own good.

A deep cry rips through the cave, a man’s cry, and my heart stops dead in my chest. The blood drains from my face as the deep, gravelly tone grows louder. It’s him. My stranger. I quickly descend the jagged rocks, my skin catching on them on the way down, but the sting is an afterthought.

My heart screams the words that my mouth can’t, and without a second thought, I plunge into the rock pool, my body moving on instinct, muscle memory guiding me through the darkness.

If they have him, Father, those men, we are both as good as dead. That much is true. I may have only recently discovered Father’s true colors, but I knew before then not to trust him when it came to my stranger. And with Father not giving a damned winter’s day in Hell about me anymore, and with my mother gone, the stranger and my spiders are all I have left in this world.

He is mine to keep, not theirs.

My pet.

And I will not let them hurt him.

Chapter14

AIRLIE

The second my feet are out of the water, I run as fast as I can toward his cave. Sand and rocks flick up behind me, slapping the back of my thighs with each desperate step. The roughness of the ground barely registers, drowned out by the pounding of my heartbeat, loud and frantic in my ears. As I near the entrance, I begin to slow as fear and dread pull tight at my chest. The only light guiding me is the glow of the full moon as I tip-toe inside.

I hold my breath, straining to listen for signs of other voices over the waves crashing against the stones. The cave walls are shrouded by the night, as my eyes scan the hollow for my stranger.

“Please,” his cries are softer now, yet the desperation still coats his sorrow-filled voice. I stop dead in my tracks, ignoring my instincts to run to him and search the shadows for signs that we aren’t alone instead.

This might still be some sort of trap, and knowing the malice that lurks within Father’s lifeless eyes, I would not be surprised if he was hiding in the shadows, waiting for me. Knowing it’d be more fun if I were forced to watch whatever sick games he had planned.

The moon’s blue rays spill through the cave, casting beams over my stranger’s restless, sleeping body as he tosses and turns on the rough ground.

Once I’m satisfied that we’re alone, I rush to his side, my heart racing with worry, not at all convinced that he isn’t already hurt. My hands frantically feel his face, and then the rest of his hard body, desperately searching for any signs of injuries.

When suddenly, a strong hand wraps around my wrist. A sharp breath escapes my lips in surprise.

“Siren?” he whispers, his voice a combination of exhaustion and relief. I can’t see his face, but I’ve studied him closely while he’s slept, enough to imagine that he’s confused and that there is a crease forming on his forehead.

When I say nothing, he removes his hand, the chains clinking and dragging along the ground as he starts to sit up.

There are no words to describe the relief I feel that I was wrong.

He’s okay.

He was only dreaming.

He’s safe.

I reach out and touch his face, his stubble now longer, scratching against my skin.

He pauses.

“Did they hurt you? Did they come back?” His voice hardens with anger, replacing any traces of sleep. Shame pricks at my neck, then my face, and I avert my gaze.

I had been so sure something was wrong.

So sure Father was hurting him.

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