As if that makes it any easier to bear.
Nila shook her head, staring at me as if I were some grotesque abomination. “You didn’t do it? Do you think I care if it wasn’t your hands who severed her life? It was your family, Jethro. Your bloodline. You’re a monster—just like them!”
The cuts on my feet no longer protected me. I was so fucking close to losing control.
I itched with the need to shut down. To hide from everything snowballing inside. “Let’s go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Nila spun to face the burial place of her mother.
My eyes rose to read the inscription on the simple marble headstone looming over her trembling form.
In here lies payment for debts now paid.
Rest fitfully Emma Weaver wherein hell you may face another toll.
Nila looked over her shoulder; her eyes widened until they were as black and as soul-sucking as an eclipse. “Jethro—”
The pain and hatred in her voice sliced me better than any cut on my foot. I took a step backward, placing distance between us. “I can’t give you what you want.”
She shook her head. “You can’t or you won’t?”
I knew she wanted answers. An explanation. Facts on why her family was buried on Hawk land and how we circumnavigated the law to do things no one else could.
But what could I say? I was bound. Muzzled. Shackled, not just by Hawk blood, but the very condition that made me a reject in my own family.
The truth hurt. Fuck, everything hurt.
Her panic. Her grief. The throbbing pain in my feet.
I had to get away.
This was why I’d remained cold. Why I did what I did.
This was why I never let anyone get close to me and embraced my duties as a son over the cravings of my heart.
My disease meant I couldn’t let things like this happen.
I couldn’t handle it.
“I told you I didn’t want you to see this place but you fucking defied me!” Hot anger gave me somewhere to hide. “I refuse to indulge your feelings of self-pity.” Rage coated my veins, granting sanctuary.
I backed away, distancing myself from the raw fury glowing on her face. “Come here. We’re leaving.” I snapped my fingers again. “Now!”
Nila stood. Her eyes darted to the semicircle of death surrounding us. An unlucky horseshoe of tombs.
Her chest rose as a silent sob escaped her. Waving her hand at the other graves, she shook her head. In one motion, she asked a lifetime of questions.
How could you?
How did you get away with it?
Why has no one stopped you?
I had no answers.
My eyes fell on the graves.
Six in total.
All with a diamond chiselled into the remembrance of their tombstone and the ultimate mockery of all: a hawk perched on the top, its talons dripping blood down the face of the eulogy.
“This—it can’t be real. No one could be this diabolical.”
You’re wrong. The Hawks can.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Quiet.” Looking back up, I demanded, “Say goodbye. We’re leaving, and I doubt you’ll be allowed back up here.”
Her mouth twisted with black amazement. “You…I don’t have any words for what I think about you. How sick you make me.”
“Good. I don’t want words. I want to leave.” Storming forward, I grabbed her elbow, yanking her away from the cemetery.
“No!” she screamed, scratching my hand and backpedalling. A huge wave of anguish buffeted me. Everything she felt poured from her like a tsunami. I stood, unable to move as it drowned me.
Apart from knocking her unconscious and carrying her back to the Hall, I had no way of making her leave. I couldn’t handle carrying her kicking and screaming.
I’d break.
She rattled with the pieces of her broken heart, and just once, I wanted to give in to the benevolence that others enjoyed.
But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stand there while she grieved.
It just wasn’t possible.
Not for a man like me.
Sighing, I said, “Fine. Stay. Pay your respects and worship the dead, but you’ll do it alone.”
You’ll do it alone, so I don’t lose the rest of my soul.
This wasn’t a good place for a Hawk, but in a way, it was home to a Weaver. She might find whatever she was missing by conversing with her past.
“I’ll—I’ll leave you alone.”
Nila balled her hands, looking as if she wanted to strike me. “Disappear, Mr. Hawk. Run like you always do. Good fucking riddance. Leave. Get the hell away from me and don’t come back!”
I paused for a fraction. I should do something about her outburst—teach her that I wouldn’t permit her to raise her voice, but I was done here.
Taking another step away, I said, “I’ll see you back at the Hall.”
She didn’t reply.
With a black-laced heart and thundering headache, I backed away, faster and faster. Her arms wrapped around her body and her hair danced in the turbulent breeze. She looked like a witch placing a curse upon my house. Then she collapsed at the base of her mother’s tombstone, bowing in the dirt. I left her with only ghosts for company, kneeling on the grave of her ancestors.
Shuddering once, I turned and didn’t look back.
I GOT MY wish.
My wish to become as cold and as merciless as Jethro came true as I huddled on my mother’s grave. My sweaty skin turned to ice with renewed hatred for the Hawks. I struggled with rage so damn strong I was sure the earth would crack beneath me and swallow me whole.
How could he?
How could they?
How could devils live so blatantly amongst us?
My teeth ached from clenching; my eyes bruised with unshed tears.
I breathed revenge. I ate vengeance. All I saw was hate.
I felt invincible with rage, as if I controlled the tectonic plates and had the power to summon a catastrophic earthquake to devour this disease-riddled place forever.
How could any goodness live inside me when all I wanted was four graves—one for each of the Hawk men? How could I believe in right and wrong when all I wanted was their blackened hearts bleeding at my feet?
Morning turned to noon.
Afternoon turned to dusk.