Snap.
My hand wraps around her throat in a lightning quick move as I force her back until her back is against the wall. I squeeze tighter, until the sound of her wheezing gasp fills my ears. I enjoy the panicked look in her eyes as she grips my wrist in a futile attempt to pull my hand away. She opens her mouth to beg, but nothing comes out.
Fear, unfettered and raw, fills the air around us. I can taste it on my tongue.
Fury, unshackled and wild and savage pours from me. She can feel it on her flesh.
Need. My need. The unquenchable and consuming need to protect my son from her words. From words that lash and sting more than any physical beating ever could.
Worthless.
Selfish.
Disappointment.
Ungrateful.
Useless.
Bastard.
Whore.
Incompetent.
Stupid.
Idiot.
They replay and repeat over and over in my head. Thrown at me. Thrown at Rayna. It’s like she was right there, screaming at me behind the closed doors of the gilded mansion I grew up in. Hulking and hovering over us with maliciousness and cruelty being hurled. Locked in dark closets for days, no food or drink, forced to piss myself until I became desensitized to the darkness. Until I embraced it. Until I fought back.
To protect my sister. My fragile sister who only wanted to please and satisfy. My sister who became so desperate for affection, that she began seeking it out in whatever way she could get it, no matter how putrid or vile. My sister who just wanted to keep her baby. The baby that would have shed so much light on the darkness in our house.
“Ryder, stop,” a tiny voice calls out to me with desperate pleading. It breaks through the garbage, shining light into the darkest recesses of my mind. Tethering me with chains, ropes, and bindings of the unbreakable sort. The kind that never decay or rot because they’re made of the purest materials, impenetrable and strong.
It brings me out of the chaos. Pulls me from that blackhole that threatens to swallow me whole. Bringing me back to the present. Bringing me back to earth.
Gravity.
She is my gravity.
I release Nova and begin to back away. My gaze falls to Heaven whose eyes are filled with stark terror. She’s afraid of me.
I have refused to feel shame for a long time. Especially after what felt like a lifetime of living in it. But looking at her tear-streaked face, eyes red from crying, it consumes me. She has seen me angry, but she’s never seen me lose control. I never wanted her to see that.
I start to back away from her, needing to put distance between the two of us. I don’t want to infect her with this poison, this unabashed hatred. She is everything good, and the thought of my sins touching her makes me sick. Sins I’ve always embraced now feel like a sludge that threatens to keep me from everything I ever wanted.
One step back and another, I scrub my hand over my face. I look at her again, wincing at the scared look in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry, but when she said what she did about you and Tyler, I lost it.”
I look down to the girl, the victim of that tattered strand breaking, with remorse as she rubs her throat and gasps for air. Tears stream down herface,and she shakes violently. She’s just a girl. A little girl that is fighting against everyone and everything. I don’t know why, but I do know, as angry as she made me, it wasn’t her I was trying to hurt.
I look over at their brother, his eyes filled with worry and concern as they dart between all of us. He looks like he’s not sure what he should do.
I look back to the pixie standing in front of me. Thefewsteps I placed between us have vanished once again. I clench my fists at my side to keep from reaching for her.
“I — You probably want me to leave, but —”
Without warning her body is wrapped around mine, holding on to me like she would bury herself inside me if she could. I slide my arms around her. “I’m sorry,” I tell her again, squeezing her tight.
