Ruin (Rhodes #1) - Rina Kent Page 0,70
You’re dead. Leave me alone, Aunt.
‘Not until you do the right thing. I didn’t sacrifice myself for you to become pathetic.’ I can almost see the scowl on her face— thankfully I don’t.
A soft moan pulls me from the hypothetical war with my dead family members. Mae’s sleepy face morphs into a little smile as she sits up in bed. She tucks some of her rebel strands back. My fingers twitch to do the same.
She’s so beautiful I yearn to devour her whole. In every bloody aspect.
“Are we going horse riding?” she asks, voice joyful.
I refrain from clearing my throat at being caught off guard. “No.”
She releases an exasperated sigh. All the excitement washes away to leave place for a scowl. Witnessing her fast changeable facial expressions sends a curious sensation through my veins. It’s similar to the rush of hunting. If not more powerful.
“It’s been five days since I’ve seen Silver and Jet.” Her voice has an edge to it. “I miss them.”
I make a beckoning sign. “Come with me.”
Mae narrows her eyes, pinches the bridge of her nose, but the kitten in her asks, “Where?”
With one last glance, I exit her room. She follows me, her steps are quiet. Careful. As if afraid I’m leading her to her hanging— which I should have done the day I met her. I wouldn’t be in this internal chaos if I’d finished her in the alley or the day after.
All this mess clouding my head is a payment for my impulse to keep her. After all these years, I invited a weakness into my life.
And now, I don’t know what to do about her.
I open the door to the room she occupied before.
“No.” Mae halts, gluing herself to the wall. “I won’t go in there again.”
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.