Page 86 of The Reckoning
I needed to accelerate things.
It isn’t long before we arrive at the Mill House just as the campus is beginning to stir with life. Early risers heading to breakfast or the library cast curious glances at our procession. The driver parks the car at the end of the driveway, and we climb out. Father leads the way, his stride purposeful, Patricia a half step behind, her heels clicking on the pavement like an impending countdown.
I hang back slightly, each step heavier than the last.
My heart pounds so loudly I’m certain everyone can hear it—a drum signaling the execution that’s about to take place.
We reach the front door, and I punch in the entry code with numb fingers.
Will they understand? Will they see what I’m trying to do here? Or will they condemn me like before, them against me?Father nods to me, impatience oozing from every pore.
“This way,” I say, leading them up the stairs and down the hall to my old bedroom door.
I hesitate, key in hand. Behind this door are the two people who, against all odds, have shown me what it means to be seen, to be known.
I’m about to destroy them both. If only for a second, until the dust settles and I can explain myself to them.
“Open it,” Father commands, voice low but sharp.
With my heart in my stomach, I do just that. The door swings open onto the dimly lit room. They’re still in bed, tangled together, Arson’s arm protectively draped over Lilian even in sleep. For one frozen moment, no one moves. Then as he can sense a change in the air, Arson’s eyes snap open. In a flash, he’s alert and aware of the threat lingering just a few feet away. In one fluid motion, he’s sitting up, shoving Lilian behind him as he takes in the tableau at the door—me flanked by Father and Patricia.
“Aries?” Lilian’s voice is thick with sleep, confusion clouding her features as she peers around Arson’s shoulder. Then her gaze lands on my father, on Patricia, and understanding dawns with devastating clarity. “No…”
“I’m sorry,” And I’ve never meant the words more than I do right now. “I didn’t have a choice.”
Arson’s penetrating gaze locks on mine, and the betrayal that I see there cuts me deeper than any knife could reach. There’s no surprise or anger. Just betrayal, that’s so loud it feels as if it’s a living, breathing thing.
It’s like he’s been expecting this all along.
“Of course you didn’t, Brother,” he says, voice flat. “I should’ve known, should’ve anticipated this.”
Lilian’s expression is worse—naked betrayal, shock giving way to a hurt so profound it physically pains me to witness. Tears well in her eyes but don’t fall.
She’s too strong for that, even now.
“Why? How could you do this? You said we were in this together,” she whispers. “You promised.”
I open my mouth to explain, but I can’t. Not yet.
Father steps forward, his presence filling the small room like a thundercloud. “Arson. It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough, Richard.” Arson’s voice is ice, his posture deceptively relaxed despite the tension I can see coiled in everymuscle. “I see you’ve finally come to deal with your dirty little secret.”
“And I see you’ve corrupted my daughter,” Patricia interjects, her gaze flicking dismissively over Lilian’s disheveled appearance, the obvious intimacy of the scene we’ve interrupted.
Lilian laughs, the sound brittle and sharp. “Your daughter? Strange how I’m your daughter now, but any other time I’m an unnecessary nuisance. Please be honest, we all know I was never anything but an accessory to you. A prop for your charity work.”
“We can discuss family dynamics later,” Father cuts in. “Right now, we have more pressing matters. The documents, Lilian. Where are they?”
“Documents?” Lilian tilts her head to the side. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb,” Richard growls. “The records. The items you stole.”
Lilian’s chin lifts, defiance blazing through her hurt. “Oh, those documents.” She nods her head ever so slightly. “You will have to kill me if you want them.”
Patricia steps forward, hand raised as if to strike her, but Arson moves with lightning speed, catching her wrist before the blow can land.
“Don’t,” he warns, voice deadly quiet. “Touch one fucking hair on her head and I won’t hesitate to break every bone in your body.”
