We climb out of the truck and look for some gas cans. I remember the landscaper would keep them in the garage for his tools.
“Are you sure about this?” I double check and she winks.
Opening the front door, I sigh. They never changed the code. Memories hit me hard, and I stumble inside.
Rylee takes my free hand and guides me toward some gaudy curtains.
I begin pouring gas along them, and then the carpet, leaving a trail through the entryway, toward the study, where he would keep me hidden in a secret room behind the bookcase. No matter how loud I’d scream, no one could hear through the thick wood.
When the can is empty, Rylee hands me hers, and I drip while walking up the carpeted steps. I can't enter any of the rooms. I’m struggling to move through this place as it is, but I make sure to douse the stupid benches in the hall.
As we leave, I see a letter taped to the door with my name on it. My hand shakes as I grab it, then we walk outside.
“Do you want me to see what it is?” Rylee asks, rubbing my back. I shake my head and just bite the damn bullet.
I rip it open and quickly scan what it says.
Adonis,
I know anything I say won't change what I did, and I don't even know if you will read this.
I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.
I'm sick. My father was sick, and his father, too.
Don't let the darkness rule you. Break the cycle.
Be better.
Rylee holds my hand as I read the last words from my monster. He didn't apologize and in a way, I'm glad that he didn't. It wouldn't have changed anything, and would probably have been a lie anyway.
I pull out a lighter and set the paper on fire, then toss it onto the gasoline. Rylee gasps as it sparks to life, and we watch as it starts to burn the past to ashes, my pain along with it.
“We should get out of here. Someone is sure to call the fire department,” Rylee murmurs after about five minutes and I nod, taking her hand.
I walk her to the passenger side of the truck and give her a kiss. “Thank you for loving me,” I whisper, and she smiles, cupping my cheek.
“Always, Donny.” Opening the door, I help her inside, then turn back around and watch as the house continues to burn.
I know my pitiful amount of gasoline won't destroy everything, but it's a new beginning. I'm ready for this chapter to close.
He's gone now. I'm finally free.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“You going to get that?” Rylee asks as her hand on my knee flexes, giving it a little squeeze.
“No.” I don’t look away from the TV.
“Colton. You can’t avoid her forever. Don’t you think it’s time you talked to her? I’m not saying you have to forgive her, but at the very least, hear her out. Haven’t we learned that just ignoring the people who’ve hurt us, without getting all of the facts, just ends up hurting us more in the long run?”
Grabbing the remote, I press pause and sigh, letting my head fall back against the couch. “I know. It’s just…” I roll my head tothe side so I can see her. “I know that once I see her, talk to her, listen to her cry and beg me to forgive her, I’m going to.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Rylee smiles softly. “She’s not able to hurt you the way she did before. Not anymore. You got her the help she needed, and she seems to be taking it seriously this time.”
Rylee is right. Mom has tried rehab in the past, but didn’t make it past the weekend before she was demanding to leave. It’s been months since she went this time, and she has no plans on leaving, from what the facility has told me. They said that while she’s on track to recovery, she doesn’t want to leave just yet, as she wants to make sure it sticks this time.
Fuck.
