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The Ravishing

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“What do you mean?”

“He was held at gunpoint, but they hadn’t killed him yet. After Stephen left the maze, after he’d given up looking for me, he went back for him. My dad. He escorted him at gunpoint into the chapel. He shot him with a silencer in the head. That’s why we didn’t hear it. Left his body behind the altar. I didn’t see my father lying there. Even after I carried my mom back to the chapel. Not at first.”

“How do you know he escorted him at gunpoint?”

“Stephen told me himself, when I went to face off with him. A few weeks after he’d killed my parents. Stephen boasted my father had begged him not to harm us. He told me that my father asked him to take his life instead of ours.” Cassius reached out for something and leaned on the wall to prove this was all too much. “While I was cowering in the maze, my father was still alive. I could have saved him.”

“Your mom thought he was dead.”

“It was my job to know.”

“You couldn’t have known. You were saving your sister.”

“I could have saved them both.” He drew in a sharp breath. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“You’re not looking at it the right way, Cassius.”

“How do you mean?”

“Your father saved you. This was his legacy. Even when his life was threatened, he didn’t tell Stephen about the secret place within the maze. He didn’t give up his children. He was your father right until the end. It was his job to protect you. And he did.”

“He was the best father.” His tears welled and fell down his face.

“He really was.”

“I’ve never told anyone this.” He pressed his hand to his heart as though trying to hold that beating muscle together himself, trying to prevent it from breaking apart irrevocably.

“I want to know,” I soothed. “So we can be here for each other.”

He swiped away a tear. “I broke my favorite guitar.”

“I’ll get you another. Or maybe I’ll punish you by buying drums instead.”

“You’d be punishing yourself.”

“True.”

“I’m sorry for everything.”

“I’m offering a lifetime of forgiveness.” I swiped a stray tear off his face. “If you’re willing to forgive me, too. For being that man’s . . . daughter.”

“You can’t choose your parents.”

Tell him, tell him now . . . That I wasn’t from that monster.

“You’re nothing like him.” He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

He was in no state for me to bring all of that up now. Maybe he’d come to forgive me for waiting so long to share this. He wasn’t ready to hear it now. And anyway, I didn’t want Stephen to take up one more second or thought of our time. He’d already drawn enough oxygen from the room.

“What do you want?” I lulled him. “What can I get you to make you feel better?”

“Just you.”

“I want to take away your pain.”

“What do you need?”

“You know what I need, Cassius. Something tells me you need it, too.”

He gave a nod of understanding.

“Fuck me,” I coaxed him.

He scrunched a lock of my hair behind my nape. “Anya.”

“Use me. Kiss me. Give it to me. Let me help you feel better. Let me heal you.”

“What if I hurt you?”

“Hurt me. Take it all. All of me.”

He looked at me warily.

And then his mouth crashed against mine.

Anya

Cassius carried me out of the music room in his arms. There came a flood of relief that we’d both made it out of there in one piece emotionally. I’d glimpsed him at his worst, yet, somehow, I’d found the strength to soothe him. To bring him down from the heights of fury. Because I’d glimpsed his pain in all its raw cruelty. Coming back from all he’d experienced was nearly impossible. Yet every journey had a first step, a beginning, and we would just have to find ours.

He’d shared with me his most shameful secret. And I knew, knew with all my heart it had been the catalyst for all that had followed in his life. What had motivated him to harm my family. That the fallout of what Stephen had done had almost verged on irreparable damage—almost.

With me snuggling up against his chest as he carried me, nestling my face into his nape, I breathed him in. He carried me all the way to the room he’d first put me in when I’d arrived in this vast home.

I gave him a quizzical glance as he laid me on the bed. “Why are we in here?” I asked with a jolt of uncertainty.

He gave a nod as though all this was already thought out. “Trust me.”

“I do, but . . .”

“Be right back.” He stepped away and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Give me a second.”

Sitting up, curious why he’d left me here, I considered climbing off the bed and leaving this room. Unable to shake the discomfort of lying here with all the stark memories that slithered and sloped in the corners.



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