My nerves are shot as we reach the bottom and turn right. This house was built with an extra-large basement, extending the full length and width of the upper floors.
We slowly approach one of the back walls where the light doesn’t quiet reach. The key burns in my hand. I feel nervous energy radiating off Rella, so I squeeze her hand tighter. I don’t look at her though. My eyes are snared by the door just ahead of us.
I send up a prayer to a God I’m not sure exists that I’m doing the right thing by bringing Rella here.
I turn so I’m facing her with my back to the door.
“I need you to remember that no matter what, you’re safe. That what’s behind this door cannot hurt you.”
With the light so dim in this section of the basement, I can’t make out her full face, especially with the only light behind her, but I see enough to know she’s worried. I hate the look, but there’s nothing I can do to make it go away right now.
I turn back and insert the key into the doorknob. There’s a soft snick as the lock disengages. With a twist of my wrist, I push open the metal door, momentarily blocking Rella’s view of the room and what’s inside. Or rather, who’s inside.
My insides churn, and it feels like my heart might pound out of my chest. I fucking hate knowing she’s going to be in his presence again, but I still step aside.
The lighting in here isn’t much better than outside this room. It’s dark and drab and musty. It takes Rella a moment as she looks around the nearly empty space before her eyes land on the cot over in the corner and the man lying on it.
He’s nowhere near as big and intimidating as he used to be. He’s down to wrinkly skin and brittle bones. His eyes are sunken in his skull, and his cheekbones are popping out of his face, making him look like a decaying corpse. Every inch of his skin is filled with scars, lacerations, and bruises. When I need an outlet for my rage, this is where I come. He looks even worse than normal from lack of food and water. Since Rella came to Malus and I’ve been staying at Trouble’s house, my brothers have been coming and giving him just enough nutrients to keep him alive.
Beside me, Rella sucks in a sharp breath, her frightful eyes darting to me.
“Oh my God,” she whispers hoarsely. “Is th-that—”
“Well, well, well. Is that really little miss Daisy?” my father wheezes from his cot, ending his sentence with a hacking cough.
I ignore his taunt because it looks like she’s going to either throw up or pass out any minute. I’m standing in front of her in the next instant, gripping her upper arms in case she faints. Her face is so fucking pale it scares me.
“Hey, hey,” I call, trying to gain her attention. After a moment, her head slowly lifts, and her wide green eyes meet mine. “He can’t get to you. I swear to you, Rella, my father may be alive, but he will never touch you.”
“I don’t understand.” She shakes her head, disbelief widening her eyes. “How?”
“I’ll give you all the details. For now, I just needed you to see him. To know he’ll never be a threat to you again.”
“Hey, boy,” my father’s frail voice rattles. “Why don’t you bring our Daisy a little closer so I can see what kind of woman she grew up to be.”
Red fills my vision and anger lights my blood on fire. I spin on my heel and stalk over to him. Gripping him by his throat, I easily pick up his weak body and slam it against the wall. His head hits the concrete so hard his eyes roll back in his head, and he releases a guttural groan.
I bare my teeth and get in his face. “If you were smart, old man, you’d keep your fuckin’ mouth shut.”
I apply more pressure to his windpipe and enjoy the way his face turns red and how his eyes look like they’re going to pop out of their sockets. I’m tempted to just squeeze until I feel his bones breaking under my hand, but that’s too easy for him. He deserves a death much more painful than that. And Rella deserves to deliver her own retribution if she chooses to.
I sling him away from me, and he lands back on the bed, the chain around his ankle rattling on the floor. He stays silent after that, and I don’t know if I knocked him out or if he’s playing it smart. Either way works for me.
Wiping the hate-filled expression from my face, I turn back to Rella and find her huddled up against the wall, her fearful gaze still locked on the unmoving figure on the cot.
I walk over and stand in front so she can’t see him anymore. I cup her cheek and lift her face.
“Are you okay?”
Her mouth opens and closes several times before she mumbles, “Yes.” Her eyes dart around the room. “How long has he been here?”
I grab her shoulders and turn her to the door. “Let’s go back upstairs, and I’ll tell you everything.”
She moves and acts like a zombie as we leave the room and go up the stairs. I’m sure she has hundreds of questions flying around in her head.
I leave her in the living room on the couch just long enough to grab a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet in the kitchen. Sitting beside her, I uncap it and hand it to her. She immediately takes it and tips it to her lips. I grab the bottle when she begins coughing.
“Slow and easy,” I murmur.