Page 38 of Wreck and Ruin

Relatable.

I gave up questioning how I wound up in a trafficking ring as a young boy because no matter what scenario I came up with, they were all too painful.

Was I stolen?

Did someone take me from my mother?

And if so, did she miss me?

Or was I sold at birth?

I’ve asked myself these questions my entire life, and nothing can ever change the truth of it.

None of it matters anymore.

The chances of us finding our families after being trafficked are slim to none, and with no existing record of me ever being born, it’s damn near impossible.

“She didn’t mention me because she wasn’t allowed to talk to or about me,” Ursa whispers, resting the tip of her knife against her temple.

She’s coming undone.

Surrendering to the madness that plagues our minds when both our hearts and heads have had enough.

She’s showing way too many of her cards.

I say nothing because I’m not sure I care. Ursa handed Airlie over to that scumbag like she was nothing more than dog food, sealing her fate. For that alone, there is no way I will let this woman off the hook.

“Not allowed, or didn’t care enough to bother?” I question, throwing salt in the wound, I’m sure, but I need her to unravel so that she forgets her surroundings enough to take another step closer to me.

“Stop it! I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to get inside my head. It won’t work. She spoke to me once a month. That was the deal. So whatever mind games you’re trying to play, save them!” Ursa resumes her pacing, the same worried expression refusing to leave her face, and I can almost hear her heart breaking from here.

“When was the last time you saw your mother?” I ask, but she says nothing. She doesn’t so much as look at me as she paces back and forth, still mumbling to herself.

I’m not going to get anywhere with her. Despite her wrongdoings, somewhere deep down, she’s still a girl who loved her mother, despite what kind of person she was.

None of us are good people.

We’ve all done things we didn’t want to do in the name of the‘bigger picture.’But in Ursa’s case, whatever she’s done, it’s probably not a scratch on me. But watching how she treated Airlie was enough to send me off the rails.

Every minute I spend with this woman is a minute too long. I have to get to Airlie. My siren is in their hands, which is why I have about a second to process what I’m about to do and get the hell over it.

“It’s funny, Valerie wasn’t allowed to have contact with you, but it didn’t stop her from having a whole ass other family,” I lie, but I’m okay with it. This is just a game of survival, nothing more, and if I have to bullshit my way out of a situation to stay alive, you bet your sweet fucking ass I’m going to.

“You're lying! You're a fucking liar!”

“Believe what you want to believe. But while she had you locked away here in Atlantara, I was out there. Playing happy families with her, Charles, and the kids,” is all I get to say before she’s charging at me.

The pocket knife clasped tightly in her grip slices the air between us, but I dodge it. I duck just in time, kicking her legs out from underneath her. She hits the ground with a smack, and I move fast to straddle her body, her hands waving out in an attempt to stab me, slicing through my skin but not fully puncturing me.

What’s another scar?

I grab her arms, pinning them above her head as she bucks and kicks beneath me, screaming obscenities, but it’s no use.

“I’m going to give you one chance, and one chance only to tell me where they’re keeping her, and if you don’t tell me, I’ll drive this knife straight through your throat,” I warn.

“Fuck you! She’s as good as dead, anyway,” she says through splatters of spit, blood and tears. “She tastes sweet, doesn’t she,” she taunts through bloodied teeth, and I notice the blood pooling on the ground beneath her head from when she hit the cave floor.

Ignoring her comment, deciding that if Airlie wants to tell me about what happened here one day, she could, but that would be her choice. I don’t think I can handle knowing otherwise.

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