Page 60 of King of Ruin

“Quite the love birds.”

I huff. “They were. And until recently I once thought their love was what made them weak.”

“But you see otherwise now?” Kane slides his hand under mine before spreading his digits and letting my fingers fall between his.

The act is so intimate, so tender. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done and the foreign emotion fluttering through me is conflicting. It’s somewhere between contentment and apprehension, and it only takes a moment longer before I analyze what this is.

It’s how deep feelings are forged. Not the superficial ones that result in mere anger or the disappointment that comes with even the smallest betrayal. But ones that could burn cities to bare ashes.

I’ve given him too much already.

I stand from the bath, and grab a towel hanging over the side. He watches quietly as I wrap it around my chest and lean against the sink. I only hope he can’t hear the heavy pounding of my heart against my rib cage as I narrow my eyes in a false authoritative glare.

“Enough, Kane. Tell me everything.”

I can see the disappointment cross over his features. The downward tilt in his lips and the tic in his jaw. But he doesn’t argue and instead stands, grabbing his own towel.

“As you wish,mo bhanríon.”

I’m not generally a nervous person–I’ve done far too many illegal activities for that–but the way my heart is pulsing in mynose, matching the fast bounce of my leg, you’d think I was standing trial for murder.

But it isn’t me who will soon face the music of all my past sins. It’s the Murphys. From Phineas himself to every guard who opposes Zek’s ascension.

This is it.

The sound of an approaching motor makes me jolt to my feet. I watch as the sleek, dark car pulls around the front and rolls to a stop in front of the house. Its windows are tinted in a way that looks as if it’s been painted black, ensuring anyone inside is completely hidden under its veil.

I rub my slick hands over my jeans twice, double-checking the back door is still wide open. I trust my brother when he says no one else will be coming by, but having stayed with the scum of the earth for a couple of months, I know better. Being there taught me how sneaky they are and how their ability to stab someone in the back the second they turn around is child’s play. They could have easily killed him and are now coming to clean up the loose ends.

No. Zek would find a way from the afterlife to protect me. It’s him. He’d figure out how.

The minute I take a steadying breath, the driver-side door opens, and my brother steps out. The rest of my pent-up tension relaxes at once, a wave of calm taking over. There have been many times now that Zek has gotten me out of sticky situations, and every time I saw him, the feeling has been the same.

It’s one of complete trust and knowing that with him, everything is going to be okay even when it seems impossible.

I open the door before he makes it up the broken porch steps and engulf him in a hug the second his foot crosses the threshold. It’s the first chance I’ve had to do it since everything happened, and when his arms wrap around my back, an overwhelming tidal wave of emotions hits me all at once.

A strangled cry erupts passed my lips as I squeeze onto him, losing the composure I wasn’t even aware was unraveling. My life. His life. Our mom. All of it–everything–has been on the line since the day he was born. He was made to grow up before he went to first grade and has spent every waking moment protecting us. Providing for us. Saving us.

Here I was, thinking by some fucked up default that my brother had an obligation to get me out of messes I made. And I even had the audacity to be upset with him for scolding me afterward. For asking me to help more around the house and not sneak out on the weekend to go to some high school parties. I screamed at him when he told me I couldn’t date someone on the “bad side” of town and slammed doors in his face when he said he had to pick up yet another shift and couldn’t come to my art displays.

I was selfish.

An idiot.

A shit sister, who couldn’t stop and think for one second that he might have had stuff going on too. That there was more than just my side of our story.

“I-I’m so so sorry Zeky. I-I–” My shoulders shake as I push out the world’s crappiest apology. “I’m the worst. I should–”

“Shh. Take a breath. Calm down.” He rubs up and down my upper arms. “You have nothing to apologize for. First off, you were a kid for most of your tantrums, and you didn’t know anything that was happening. I completely sympathize with you.”

Another sob breaks through and he hugs me again. Maybe I needed him to comfort me, or maybe acknowledging all the extremely fucked up shit that’s happening is what does it, but either way, I fall apart.

I think of everything, both past, and present. My heart aches for what he went through. What he shielded me from. What my mother felt when she realized she couldn’t protect us. Then I think of our futures and how it’s all about to change. I have no idea if it will be good or absolutely devastating.

It could be seconds, or minutes, but I let myself cry and let my brother hold me through it. It isn’t until I sigh with a full breath that he speaks again.

“I should have told you. If I would have explained, you would have understood. I just thought what I was doing would be the best way to protect you.”

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