Page 5 of His Ruin
Something bumps my shin under the table, and I glance up through my lashes at the girl sitting across from me. She gives me an encouraging grin, her soft features turningkind and genuine. Her eyes, the color of honey, are wide and inviting. Everything about her screams naive and innocent. She has no idea who I am or what I’m like.
She’ll know soon enough. They always find out.
“What do you like to do, Melody?” I ask, picking at my pizza. Anything to get the attention off me.
The girl hums, her mellifluous voice filling the dining room. “I like to dance. I’ve been in ballet since I was five.”
Of course, she dances. She’s the perfect little tool for my father to flaunt around in front of his associates. She’ll become his world, finally giving me the freedom from my expectations.
“Sounds interesting,” I muse with sarcasm. It’s a cruel move, but I don’t like how happy she is. Shouldn’t she be upset with leaving her old life behind? She moved in with complete strangers and can still smile until her rosy cheeks hurt.
Her face falls a fraction, and I almost celebrate that I cracked her fragile exterior, until she smooths out her expression and softens again. “Maybe I can show you what I’ve been practicing? I almost have my plie down.”
My teeth grind. “I’ll pass.”
Dad’s stare is cutting through the side of my head. He’s burning a hole through my skull with his anger, but I couldn’t care less. He could move a hundred women in, and it wouldn’t make a difference to me.
Melody doesn’t even look disappointed as she shrugs. “Okay. Could you show me the creek later?”
“No,” I answer automatically.
Ms. Love looks uncomfortable as she shifts in her chair. Good. I want her to think about this dinner long after everyone is asleep and she’s sitting up, wondering where it all went wrong. I’m going to make a lasting impression with them here, so I can wash my hands of it.
“That’s enough, Kaden.” Dad barks, making an unsettling calm wash over the table. “Why are you treating them this way? They’re your family—”
“I don’t know these people,” I snort humorlessly. “They’re strangers.”
“And whose fault is that?” He asks. “For the last year, I’ve made an effort to try to get you to meet them. You’ve refused every chance.”
“Playing house isn’t my thing,” I shrug.
He scrubs a hand across his scruff, his jaw twinging. “This isn’t make-believe, Kaden. They’re here, and they’re staying.”
“That’s what you said about the last woman you dated.” I’m stirring the pot, but this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
That thin tether inside of my dad snaps as he rises so fast his chair scrapes harshly across the floor. “Go to your room. Now.”
I push my chair out, not bothering to touch my food. “With pleasure. Have a great night.”
Before I can make my exit, Melody’s eyes snag mine. There’s a deep sadness in them, as if she’s trying to pick me apart, and what she sees is upsetting. It makes me pause for a beat. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but I don’t like her expression.
I shake myself out of it before leaving them to their peaceful dinner.Free of me.
My altar is an array of bones I’ve collected near the creek. There are a few rodent skulls and the remains of larger animals that were left behind to be picked apart by nature. I’ve taken great care of them, using a soapy mixture to soak off excess grease, then hydrogen peroxide for whitening. They’re arranged by species, from the smallest to the largest, and grouped by categories.
Looking at my work gives me a feeling I can’t replicate outside of this room. It’s serenity, and the only way to quiet my mind. My collection gives me an ounce of normalcy, creating the illusion that I’m not screwed up. I have a hobby. Everyone has a hobby.
I’m soaking my new find, a rabbit skull and tibia bone that I found near an owl’s nest, when there’s a light knock at my door. I gently set my bones down in the plastic tub, scowling at the door.
“What?” I project my voice across my room, waiting for the meek response that will follow.
“I can’t sleep…” Melody trails through the wood.
I rest my head back against my shoulders, releasing a breath. “That’s not my problem.”
There’s a beat of silence, as if she’s gathering her courage before her question whispers through the door. “Can I come in?”
My brow furrows deeper. “No. Go to bed.”
