Page 90 of King of Ruin

“How about we focus on what matters!” my mother shrieks. “Like finding my daughter!”

“Pretty sure he just told you she ran. And if she wants to put herself in harm’s way, it’s not his responsibility to risk everything–including his life–to find her.”

My mother’s mouth is wide open as she gapes at Fiona. They’ve never been close, but Fiona’s never dared speak to her this way. Still, the need to reassure her that Harlow will be found weighs heavy, but when I open my mouth Fiona cuts me off again.

“Zek has spent his life protecting us and raising me. You did the bare minimum, only worried aboutherwhile your other two children suffered, if not more than her, right under your own roof. He was beaten, used, broken, and hurt. I don’t even know half of what he had to go through, but I do know one thing–he deserves better than you!”

Our Mom tries to interject, a fresh round of tears streaming down her face, but Fiona doesn’t let her. “You checked out and he had to step up. The least you can do is acknowledge that. Appreciate that even while he was trying to figure out a way to kill a woman he was head over heels for in order to save us, he still made sureyouwere safe. When he got captured and had to plan a whole coup, he still had to know you were safe!”

Fiona’s shaking now, her hands balled into tight fists at her side. I place a hand over her shoulders, squeezing her lightly. It takes a few breaths before she looks up at me, her rage slowly evaporating.

When I turn back to my mother, her defeat and shame are clear. It makes my stomach churn as I examine her down-turned mouth and quivering chin. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

Fiona tries to speak but this time I cut her off with my perfected parent stare. She rolls her eyes but gestures with her hand for me to proceed.

“You don’t need to say anything. What’s done is done, and no part of me resents you or regrets taking care of either of you. We’ve all made mistakes, granted some more damning than others, but what matters now is that it’s over. Fiona deserves a damn vacation, you deserve a minute to breathe, and Harlow deserves her moment alone. She has to want to be found in order for me to find her, and when I do, you’ll be the first to know.”

Despite my sister’s huff of irritation, I unwrap my hand from her shoulders to hug my mother. Our lives are about to go down very different roads, and I doubt she’ll stay around for that, meaning this could be one of the last times I get to hug her.

“Go home. Pack what you want, and in the morning, I’ll send you wherever you want to go.”

“I’m so sorry, Ezekiel.” She sobs into my chest. But the light grasp she has around me tells me she’s not sorry for leaving. And that’s okay.

“Don’t be. Go live the life you never got.” I release her and move back around my desk.

Her eyes flit between me and Fiona. “And what about you two?”

I shrug, watching as Fiona flops down in one of the chairs across from me. Something mischievous crosses her features and the familiar look makes me smile. When my gaze flashes back to my mother, it’s as if she’s seeing her children–really seeing us–for the first time.

There’s a curtain closing on a relationship between us that ended years ago. The mutual understanding that not everything can or should be saved.

I love my mother and believe she loves me. But sometimes love isn’t enough, and it’s okay to release people. Even your family.

“Take care of yourselves,” she says, wiping away the lingering tears staining her cheeks.

I clear my throat, ridding myself of the sudden swell of sadness. “You too, Mom.”

It isn’t until the door shuts behind her that Fiona finally speaks up. “You’re going to pay someone to watch her twenty-four-seven, aren’t you?”

I nod. “Yeah. Probably.”

Sam’s wails of agony are delicious. Better than I ever thought they could be. Each time I hear the crack of a bone, something in me heals. Each time I open a new vein, a part of me relaxes.

It’s been years since I’ve felt such relief. Such euphoria. It’s everything I thought it would be and more, and yet it still isn’t enough. There’s something missing from it all. Something he’s not giving me.

Sweat coats every surface of him now, the pungent smell of blood, piss, and body odor almost overwhelming at this point. But for me, it’s the smell of justice. Of vindication.

Every one of his fingers is broken in two spots, he’s now missing twelve teeth, all of which are from the back of his mouth, and he’s sporting thirteen brand new cuts over his stomach, thighs, and triceps.

He coughs and the sound is wet, riddled with blood. “I have to give you credit.”

I turn, pick up the glass jar of Piranha cocktail, and walk back to him. Shi follows behind, bringing a small standing tray and setting it down where it’s out of his reach.

He coughs again. “You’re smarter than your father.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t mention the man you murdered in front of his daughter,” I reply cooly, placing the mixture on the stand. “Instead, maybe you should tell me which body part you’d like to be cut off first.”

“Fuck you, Embros.”

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