Ruin (The Rhodes 1)

Silence pulses between us for a few seconds as she studies my face. “Why did you bring me here, anyway?” She looks at me with her kitten eyes. She doesn’t seem scared, or perhaps her curiosity swallowed her fear along the way.

I motion to the room. “Go inside if you want to find out.”

She purses her lips, stands there for a few more seconds. Eventually, she sighs and pushes the door to go inside. I smile, following her careful steady steps. The best way to get a rebellious little kitten under control is to keep her curious.

Mae halts as soon as she sees the blank canvas facing the window. Lines of light sneak through the glass to glow the oil painting brushes and the numerous colour palettes. Kane and his team did a great job in a short time. Not only did they rip the old decor and turned the room white, but they also smuggled in the painting supplies without Tristan or Dylan finding out.

“Why did you turn this room into an art studio?” Mae asks in a cold restraint voice. Her fists clench, lips purse, but not in suspicion this time. It’s more like anger?

What the hell? Isn’t she supposed to appreciate this? I can’t understand this damn woman.

“You always paint in midair.” I don’t even attempt to keep the frustration out of my voice. “Isn’t this a better alternative?”

Her eyes sway to me in a glare, their merciless blue like a snow tigress’. “Am I supposed to jump into your arms in thanks now?” She huffs then points a finger in my direction, her tone harsh. “Your gift is insulting. I would never use an art studio in such a sullied place.”

‘See? She doesn’t deserve you, dear nephew. Bleed her to death. Teach her what it’s like to sully a soul.’

I take a sharp inhale then release it in a long breath. A futile attempt to take full control over my head. “You don’t want to go against me.” I tower over her, my voice low. She doesn’t as much as flinch. “You’re showing ungratefulness to my kindness, Mae.”

She laughs, a cruel mocking sound. “Kindness?” She manages between chuckles. “Kindness?” She shouts, pointing at the empty canvas. “You took me from that! You took me from everything I love. There’s no kindness in you, you sick insane psychopath!”

Like a point blank bullet, I’m thrown back to that time.

. . . . .

Twenty Years ago,

“Aaron’s condition is beyond treatment.” Dr Linton’s posh voice paralyses my limbs or perhaps it’s the drugs she injects me with. “He shall spend the remaining of his life in the mentally insane ward.”

Grandmother grins. I can make out the harshness in that wrinkled face despite my woozy head. “I knew you were insane. Rot in hell with your father and aunt, you sick bastard.”

Haziness lifts me then drops me again. Hands lock my wrists with a harsh cloth, restraining me against something like a board. The hands’ owners are mere shapes of white and grey, smelling like the underground dungeons and death— a smell I know so well. Their voices are a dizzy wave of air, piercing my ears but never reaching my head.

I’m insane. They say I’m insane.

No air comes into my lungs no matter how many breaths I take. I don’t know how my hands lift and squeeze the frail neck of the clearer voice. Dr Linton. The nightmare. I twist her neck to the side. Her bulging green eyes beg me to stop. I don’t. I’ll take everything from her just like she robbed the remnants of my sanity. She’ll pay.

. . . . .

Present,

A gag followed by a rustle stops me in my tracks. Teary wide blue eyes take the place of Dr Linton’s green ones.

‘That’s it, Aaron,’ Aunt coaxes. ‘Squeeze harder.’

Father chimes in. ‘The beauty of her soul leaving her body will be your latest masterpiece, son.’

With a jerk, I release Mae’s neck. She falls to the ground, hands flying to her throat as she gasps for air. The sound of her deep inhales is so guttural she seems to choke on air.

I freeze, my muscles lock together. A frenzied rush of air traffics through my lungs.

Fucking hell. I almost killed Mae.

The demons were seconds away from winning.

‘I told you not to go against us, Aaron.’ Aunt’s frosty voice taps on my neurons. ‘It’s us and your nature against the cliche version you want to become.’

“Never call me insane again.” I bark at Mae then march out of the room. I don’t want to see the look in her eyes. It’ll haunt me.