“Fine. Talk.”
He gives me a practiced look of patience.
“What are you trying to achieve, Bryn? Are you punishing her for not being Ivy?”
“Take your psychological bullshit and shove it up your arse,” I growl. “I know she’s not Ivy. She’s better than Ivy was. She's braver. She fights harder. She doesn’t cry and wait to be saved and then let some asshole drive her into a tree.”
“You’re very angry at Ivy, aren’t you.”
“Yes,” I admit. “I am. I’m angry she was weak. I’m angry she chose the worst of us to be with and then fled into the arms of a moron when I gave her a chance to flee. I’m angry that she orphaned her children, and one of them was so fucked up he deserved to die, and I was the one who had to do it.”
“So what you did to Jonah was justified.”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any proof of that?”
I toss him Jonah’s phone. Casually. Too casually for what it is, an artifact of evil.
“There’s a folder in there marked ‘LOL’.”
He scrolls, finds the folder. I know when he has opened it because his face drops.
“Oh.”
“Yes,” I say “Oh.”
“You could have turned this into the police…”
“Yes. And he would have gone to jail and come out the same kind of twisted he went in. There’s no cure for what was wrong with him. And there’s no forgiving what he intended to do with her.”
“This needs to go in a very safe place and never see the light of day again. I will not speak of it. It would destroy Nina.”
“No. Not destroy. It would simply be another blow for her to take. She has been beaten since before she was born. I am trying to protect her. I was not good at protecting her mother, and I do not think I have gained much skill in the art since then.”
“This is not your fault, Bryn.”
“Of course it is. Protecting those of the angels is literally our mission. It is therefore our fault when we fail.”
“It is possible to do everything right and still fail. I think you should show her the evidence. If she is as strong as you say she is, she…”
“No. She was just committed to a psych ward. I am not going to unbalance her by tainting the sainted memory of her brother. If she needs me to be the devil, that is what I will be. I am accustomed to being hated.”
“It might be more painful to be hated by her than you imagine.”
“And why is that?”
“Because you love her.”
“Tragic,” I say. “I need a drink.”
Chapter Sixteen
Nina
I can’t spend the rest of my life in my room. Grief, as bad as it is, is not everything. It can't be everything. My mother wouldn’t want that, and Jonah wouldn’t want that either. Jonah would want me to kill Bryn. I’m wondering if that’s something I might be capable of doing soon. I’m changing all the time, becoming darker and more twisted with every passing thought.
“Oh hey, look who is having food with the rest of us saps.”
There's not the rest of the saps though, there’s just him, the blue haired one.
“Sorry, who are you?”
“Cosmos.”
"And you’re a priest?”
“That's what they tell me.”
He doesn't look like a priest. He looks like one of Jonah’s friends. Dirty. Filthy. He looks like he smells, even though I’m close enough to know, and he doesn’t.
I can smell the food on the table, though. There is a lot of it. Or there was at one point.
I pick over what the boys have left behind. Eggs. Sausages. Toast. There’s juice too. I haven't had a good breakfast since I found out about Jonah. I feel almost like I haven’t eaten at all — barring that massive meal with Thor in the fog.
Sitting down, I start eating. I don’t know what Cosmos is doing. He doesn’t seem to be having breakfast. He doesn't seem to be doing anything at all. Waiting for me? No. Nobody knew that I was coming down for breakfast. I haven't done that since they all moved in and made the place smell like feet.
"Where is everyone?”
“Watching Bryn get his ass kicked.”
“Bryn’s getting his ass kicked?”
“Oh yeah!” Cosmos nods. “Downstairs.”
I take a piece of toast and a glass of orange juice down with me. Cosmos follows. I guess his sitting at the table time has elapsed.
When I get downstairs, I realize that Bryn is not getting his ass kicked. He is fighting, though.
This place could not be less religious feeling. I remember coming down here the first time he hurt Jonah. I remember wishing I could hurt him, break something of his, make him feel pain.
I can only hope that one of them will do that for me. I am rooting for the others.
Bryn is shirtless and naked from the waist up. There is no part of his body that isn’t violently muscular. Three of the brothers are attacking him with sharp weapons — or trying to. He has nothing but a big thick stick to fend them off with, and he is doing an incredible job. No matter where they go, what they do, how they split up, he spins faster than they can move and he slaps their flashing blades away.