Tragic Beauty (Beauty & The Darkness #1)(73)

And while some might think that’s a choice I could’ve made—turning away Shayne’s offer—it wasn’t. It was never a choice. Just like I couldn’t hate my father for all his faults, so too I couldn’t let him go homeless when he got sick, no matter the price. The same way I couldn’t stand by and let a dark eyed boy throw rocks at a cat, no matter the consequences. For a cat, like he said, who would’ve bitten me if I’d tried to pet it. Because that didn’t matter to me. I knew the cat could only be what life had made him to be. A beast. And when you know what makes a beast the way they are, you know they’re just trying to survive, any way they can. Some try to fight their way through, like Gavin. Others give up, like my father. And then there are those who get lost, like Shayne.

Shayne, the boy who grew up in a basement. The boy who loved me. The boy I betrayed. The boy who was there for me, at a time when my world was giving way. He never questioned a bill I sent him, never questioned money I asked for, never touched me until my father was gone. They’re painful truths I’ve chosen to look past, because all I could ever see was a beast. A beast who frightened me. A beast who tormented me. A beast who did horrible things, to so many people. And while the beast is still there, maybe doing something horrible now, I see the man inside too. Because I know. I know what made the beast. And it changes things. It changes everything.

I feel myself falling again, when another memory appears, of Shayne in the kitchen, when I’d walked in to find him standing at the big window, hands in his pockets, staring out at the mountains.

By the way his head moves ever so slightly, I know he’s aware of me. He stands there, his hair down today. My eyes linger on it, on the way it hides his face, but I look away as soon as he talks.

“You’ll make a grocery list,” he says, still staring out the window. “I’m sure you did all the cooking back home, so assume you know how to cook. If you need a cookbook, you’ll find a few in one of these cabinets. You can make what you want, but no fish and I’m allergic to peanuts. Not deathly allergic, so don’t get any ideas. All it’ll do is scratch up my throat a bit and make me uglier than I already am.”

He sounds more man than beast again, and I feel that strange feeling running through me, stronger than ever. It’s a feeling that makes me hurt, a feeling that has me wanting to go to him. To comfort him, like one might want to comfort a wounded wolf, even though you know he’d just as soon kill you as let you help him.

And then I know.

I know how to make things right.

I just hope it’s not too late.

For Gavin’s sake, and for Shayne’s.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE




Ava




I wait, curled up on my side in the middle of the room, not because he’s at the door, but because I know I won’t have the strength to get here in time once I hear the lock turn. But I’m ready. As ready as I’ll ever be. I used up the last of my energy to shower and shave, then had a piece of bread, drank a little water, and wrapped my hand up tight. Now I just wait. I wait for Shayne. All the while, chanting in my head…

Please let him be alive.

Please let him be alive.

Please let him be alive.

I drift off twice before I hear the click of the lock. In an instant, I’m on my hands and knees, trembling, not over fear of what he’ll do, but over what he may have already done.

He comes in quietly and I peer through my hair to see the familiar dark figure, the same black clothes, the hair tied back. By the time he’s standing in front of me, barefoot like always, my eyes are already down.

It’s like nothing has changed.

Like it’s just another session.

But so much has changed.

Everything has changed.

Shayne crouches near my head and gives a couple gentle tugs on my hair. “Miss me?” he asks.

The deep voice, the scent I breathe in, that strange feeling inside has me nodding my head, truthfully. But it’s overwhelmed by something else. Terror. Terror over the news I’m afraid I’ll hear. But I can’t let it get to me. I have to wait. Have to be patient. He can’t know. Can’t know how torn up I am. That will only make things worse.

He sighs. “Yeah, I missed you too.”

He strokes my hair, petting me in that soft way. That twisted part of me soaks it up, because I know it won’t last. Not with what I’m about to do.

He stands and moves off to the side where I hear the rustle of clothes, along with his voice. “Had ourselves a bit of a show and tell the other night. But…guess it’s time we had no more secrets between us.”

He’s moving again, over to The Cage, where I hear the squeak of the door. He’s not going to tell me. He’s going to make me wait. Make me suffer. But I expected this. Even so, the anguish has me wanting to fall apart but I steel myself. I have to stay strong. If Gavin is still alive, this is how I’ll save him. For good. But if he’s gone…

He’s not gone.

He’s not gone.

He’s not gone.

The beast walks around me now, circling, and I hear the jingle. The jingle of the Cat. How fitting. It all started with a cat, and will likely end with one too.

He drags it along my back, the tails spreading out and purring against my nerves, the metal beads like claws kneading at my skin.