Page 5 of King of Ruin

“Let him go, bitch, or I’ll put two in your head.”

Kane and I break our staring contest at the same time, turning our attention to the next corpse in the room.

My adrenaline spikes, blood rushing through my ears so loudly, I have to strain to hear my own words. “Let’s make it a race. I say I can kill you before you get the second shot off.”

I drop my hands, latching onto the hostage guard’s gun at the precise moment the crack of another gun splits the air. Anoomphleaves the soldier’s mouth before he falls from my hold, collapsing on the cement, blood instantly pooling around his head.

But it isn’t the fact the man killed a fellow soldier that has my funny bone tingling and shivers drifting down my spine. It’s Kane. His own gun is out, pressing lazily into the temple of the killer guard.

It should surprise me, and though it partially does, it also does something more. It pulls at the tender edges of my sanity, filling me with more doubt.

Before I can dwell on what I think I see, Phineas finally takes a step forward, careful not to put himself directly between us. His eyes bounce back and forth between me and his son until confusion and irritation knot his bushy brows.

He looks to his guard. “I hate to break up this little love triangle, but I do need her alive for a bit, Jonas. And you.” Phineas looks back at me, igniting a fury that turns my blood into molten fire.

I blame my numb arm for my slow reflexes, so when his hand flicks out faster than I can catch it, I hiss at the sharp pain of a needle burrowing into my neck. Pulling the foreign object out, I realize it’s a dart, a pungent, sweet smell coming from the coated tip.

It takes too long for my head to turn and find the three men standing together now, staring at me. They’re much taller than they were two seconds ago. Too unfocused. I try to bend and reach for the gun, but when I lean down I notice my knees are already on the ground.

When did I get here?

The sound of retreating steps and a heavy sound being dragged across the concrete force my eyes up. The seasoned guard is pulling the one I killed by his collar.

They’re leaving. I can’t let them leave.

I put my steady hand out to support myself so I can rise, but it connects with the floor. I can’t lift it. It’s far too much weight.

I can’t…

I can’t see.

A dark veil of shadows covers my eyes, and I relent, turning onto my back to allow some of the overhead light in. It doesn’t work. I can only see a silhouette of someone now.

The familiar warmth of Kane hovers over me, and I swear I feel the burn of his thumb as it coasts along my jaw. I try to force my face away, but instead, I think I lean into his touch. It’s as though my body knows that despite everything, I’m safest with him. What idiocracy.

“Tie her back up. This time to the pipes,” Phineas commands.

Kane doesn’t respond but his hand disappears from my face and snakes around my back. He lifts me as though I weigh nothing, while I can’t even muster enough strength to open my eyes.

He cradles my body as he carries me, and my thoughts begin to blur. Images of white roses covered in blood fill my mind until things shift, and one white and one black cat walks through a field of colorful daisies. I try to focus on them. To find something that will ground me. But the stability is fleeting, as the images are replaced by another.

This time, a younger version of myself steals my vision. She’s hovering over the graves of my parents, enormous tears falling down her face, filling the empty holes. The blue ribbon in her hair blows behind her in the wind, the ends whipping back and forth as her small body shakes uncontrollably.

I want to reach out to myself. Tell her to get the fuck up and not let them see her weak. But the moment my hand lifts, the blue ribbon lashes out and snaps back, the color fading and shifting into a deep black.

Chills radiate through my arms, traveling toward my tight chest. The air thins as my younger self turns to lock eyes with me. The emptiness in them speaks to the depths of my barren soul, and for a moment we are one and the same.

Angry.

Alone.

Broken.

With the acknowledgment, a mirror I hadn’t realized I was looking through, shatters, falling into a thousand pieces. It allows the darkness that took me from my concrete confines, to creep into my dreams, and drown everything in the same inky shadows.

The last thing I hear before I’m swallowed completely, is the deep, husky voice I once allowed to bring me peace.

“Down the rabbit hole you go.”

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