“Why would they do that?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“I can think of no reason to do that. Ask your sister.”
“Take care of her,” I say and begin to run. I run back to the parking lot of the bar and get into my car, then I drive so fast to the city, the scenery outside my windows blur. My hands grip the steering wheel so hard, they hurt when I eventually arrive at my destination, and release the steering wheel.
Her housekeeper opens the door. She takes one look at my face and cowers away. I don’t need her to tell me where Isadora is. I stride through the ostentatiously luxurious house and kick down her living room door.
She makes a great show of looking unconcerned.
She was flicking through a magazine and she looks up and smiles. She is wearing a white silk trouser suit and gold high-heeled sandals. There is something undeniably and heartbreakingly beautiful about her, and she may even possess the loveliest eyes of any living creature, but this is a complete mirage. The truth is rotten.
I stride up to her, grab her wig, pull it off her head, and fling it across the room.
There. This is the truth. She is not beautiful at all. In reality, she is ugly beyond description. Every atom in my body recoils from the sight of her. The skin on her head has become even more revolting. It is red, with brown boils that weep with liquid and pus. Not like a skin disease, but like something evil. The disgusting smell of rotting and death rising from her exposed sores fills my nostrils. It is so overpowering it actually makes me want to retch.
“Why?” I snarl.
She shrugs nonchalantly, stands and walks towards her wig. Bending down she picks it up and fits it back on her head. Then she faces me. Her eyes glitter wickedly, daring me to hurt her. Yes, she’d like that. She’d like to push me into making a mistake and give her a reason to trap me into her malevolent plans.
“Sometimes I think mother must have dropped you on your head when you were a baby, little brother. Isn’t it obvious? Losing her best friend will only push her closer to you. You should be thanking me. I just made it easy for you.”
“She had nothing to do with any of this.”
“I care less for her life than I do for a bug I squash under my shoe. You will see for yourself in the coming days what I have done for you.”
I am so furious I want to destroy her, but I know I can’t. Anyway, it won’t solve anything. My parents will take her place. If I destroy them, others will take their place. I have to find a way to defeat them all. I take a deep breath, and holding myself tightly in rein, I take one last look at her. The corruption in her cunning eyes, her cruel mouth, her smooth skin… then I start to walk away.
“You think you can survive everything?” she flings at my back. “She might be important to you, but is she all that matters? Don’t we matter? We are your blood.”
I turn back slowly. Her hands are clenched at her sides, and her eyes are hard and cold. I feel nothing for her. I feel nothing for any of them. My words are slow and measured. “You know I have never believed in the greater good. See where it got the Incas. All those hearts sacrificed, that river of spilled blood flowing down the temple steps, and their civilization was still obliterated, gone without a trace.” I turn away and carry on walking towards the door.
“We are in the same boat as them, Rocco. We, you won’t survive this unless you give her up.”
I don’t turn back. I don’t break my stride. I don’t care if I don’t survive. I will never sacrifice Autumn to her.
Some kind of shudder rises from inside me, or perhaps it is a long-suppressed piece of knowledge. I know now Autumn is no longer safe. I am dealing with a mad woman. A woman who will stop at nothing, and do anything to survive.
I have to tell Autumn everything as soon as possible, and if her answer is what I think it will be, then I have to be prepared to fight all of them.
They cannot win. I won’t fucking let them. I’ll perish before they hurt a single hair on her head.
Chapter 51
Autumn
By the time I am gently shaken awake, the sun is already streaming in through the windows. I look into Zelena’s wrinkled face and blink with confusion. Then I remember coming here last night, and why I came, and pain is instant, and like a dagger in my heart. With a cry of sorrow, I sit up, and swing my legs to the floor.