Page 139 of Boy of Ruin
My hands are on my knees as I breathe, eyes open now, chest heaving.
But something in the reflection of the mirror that stretches from one wall to the other in the gym catches my eye.
Slowly, I straighten, then turn, feel my blood catching fire as I do.
On one of the weight benches, there’s a black piece of fabric, folded over into a triangle.
I bite the inside of my cheek, inhale through my nose, exhale.
A black fucking bandana, the ends hanging over the seat of the bench.
I know Sid must have left it in here. How I didn’t notice, I have no idea. Just looking at it makes my skin crawl, my stomach twist into knots. I’m wanting to dive my hand into the pocket of my shorts to curl my fingers around the bobby pin.
The one that saved my life again.
But I don’t dare, trying to fight back on that weakness. Trying to push all of those triggers to the back of my mind, as if they don’t exist. As if I’m stronger than that. Than them.
“Roman is here.” Nicolas’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I snap my eyes to the bottom of the basement stairs where he’s jogging down two at a time, rounding the corner, his eyes on mine.
But he must see something in my expression because he stops, frozen, his brows high on his head.
“Are you okay?” he asks slowly, hands fisted at his sides.
I glance at the bandana again.
His eyes follow my gaze.
“Oh,” he says on an exhale, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He clears his throat.
“I can get rid of it if you—”
“I’m not fucking scared of it,” I say through clenched teeth, bringing my eyes to his. I wipe the back of my hand over my brow, stopping the sweat from dripping into my eyes. And I’m not scared.
I’m not.
I’m not that boy anymore.
I’m not a boy at all.
But I feel my body bent inside that cage, the fight leaving me. I hear the chains clanking against the crate, feel the pressure against my wrists.
Hear Sid running for me.
See her hopping up on the bed of that truck, telling me it’ll be okay.
I can see Maverick, too, touching her. Holding her.
It takes an effort not to grab a free weight from the rack and throw it against the mirror behind me. An effort not to break something. Tear shit to pieces.
I can feel her loss like a severed limb. She was beside me. With me. She was mine. Of course, they had to take that from me.
But it’s okay.
I’m coming for them.
“Remind me why you’re waiting for Ignis again?” Nicolas asks, clearing his throat.
I swallow, running my hand over my abs and scratching at that scar. “They’ll all be in one place,” I answer simply. But I know what he’s really asking. How can I wait for Ignis? How can I let them keep her? I glide my hand over my torso, rub my palm over my thigh, on my shorts. “With Elijah’s guard dead, they’re going to be more cautious. Probably go into hiding while their sons are bonding.” I smirk at Nicolas. “It actually makes them so much easier to catch, dividing and conquering them like that.”
