Page 67 of Shattered Souls

Rayvn’s head snaps his way, her emotions shifting from sadness to fear for Hayze. He comes back around the corner a second later, nothing but anger on his face now. I can sense it, the shift in the air.

He’s about to change the lives of all three of us.

“Confession for a confession?” He signs through shaking and bloodied hands. Rayvn looks at him, really looks at him, and slowly nods. Hayze takes a deep breath and starts.

Nausea blossoms in my stomach, my heart rate picks up, and I can hear every noise in the house, times ten. I haven’t heard Hayze tell the story, not from his perspective, at least. As for myself, well, I haven’t thought about that night in years, for a reason.

“Our real names are Ronnie and Tomas. We’ve been on the run for the last fifteen years.” Her eyes jump between us, waiting for one of us to say just kidding.

“My real name is Mae Russ.” She struggles to get the words out, like they burn her throat on the way. Her body’s no longer trembling, but I can still see the fear shimmering in those green orbs.

“I’ve been mute since I was twelve.” Hayze offers, then motions for me to speak. I look at him, silently questioning if I can tell her our darkest secret. He nods, then immediately dips his head in defeat.

“I killed our mother and father. Both. Beat and stabbed them.” The confession comes from deep within my chest, a place I thought was long shut and locked. Both of them look at me. Hayze has a conflicted look on his face, but doesn’t shy away from the truth like I thought he might.

“Y-you, what?” Her hands fiddle with the edge of the blanket, and her eyes avoid me the whole time.

“I killed them.” Hayze grimaces, but doesn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Why?” She questions, briefly meeting my eye.

“Ah, your turn.” She smiles, it's quick and small, but the sight warms my insides. I was so nervous that she’d shut us out for good. Curl in on herself until she crumbles into a shell of a human.

“If I tell you guys, I’ll never be the same. We’ll never be the same.” I can see it, the truth sitting on the tip of her lips. But I know better than anyone else, the truth does not set you free. It binds you to that person. It swallows you whole, and then at your new lowest point, it’ll spit you back out.

I’ve thought, more times than I care to admit, about telling someone about my parents. That weight that I’ve held on my shoulders for fifteen years. Not to mention the seven years before our run from the cops, I think that one weighs on me more.

The fact I couldn’t protect him.

“Rayvn, look,” I sit back, trying to seem cool and collected, even though I can feel myself slipping. I can’t imagine how Hayze feels. “If we’re going to be in this together, then we both need to know why we’re running.”

She doesn’t trust me, it’s obvious. But would I even trust me?

“Rayvn, my mother used to rape me.” Hayze signs to her, avoiding her eyes and having to finger spell things for her every once in a while. She never falters in her patience for his lengthy language. “It started at ten, little touches after a shower. The true rapes didn’t start until I was twelve, and I stopped speaking after she put me inside of her for the first time.

“I went through puberty young. My mother liked that, and told me she was teaching me for later in life. Every night, she’d come into my room after Synn was in his room, and teach me. I always felt disgusting, because my body always reacted and gave her just what she wanted.

“Our parents were wealthy, I think that’s why she got away with so much. She brought a doctor in for my fourteenth birthday, and she forced him to give me a vasectomy. Then her abuse became so frequent that her and our father stopped sleeping in the same room, or sleeping together at all. Our father blamed me for the downfall of their marriage.”

Rayvn watches him with sympathy, her body loosening. She sits up, taking Hayze’s hand in her own. I have to help her a few times with different signs, but she gets ninety percent of it on her own.

“My father, no Charlie, he doesn’t get to be called my father. He was similar. My mom died when I was eight, he was never the same, never had much life in those dark eyes after it. But he saw her in me, and he made me pretend to be her for years. He never let anyone in the house, too scared someone would find out about our dirty secret.” The sobs return, only this time, she accepts when he reaches over and pulls her to his lap. “My mother gave me a raven necklace before she died. That's why I chose the name Rayvn, to be close to her again.”

He strokes her hair, letting her expel the years worth of pain into his shirt. There it is again, that sting of jealousy.

The bond between them is so fluid, twin flames born of the same fire. While me, I’m a bloodied man that has no place in something as delicate as this. The pain I carry is self inflicted. I wasn’t ripped of my innocence like they were. Mine was taken by my own hand, at a much later age.

“Synn?” Rayvn looks up at me as I try to leave the couch, wanting them to share this moment without prying eyes.

“Yes, little scarecrow?” I can’t look at her. She’s made me feel so—human. A feeling I’ve avoided for the better half of thirty-two years. She ripped out that beating organ from my chest and put it on my sleeve, feeling everything she gives me with much more intensity.

“What about you?” She reaches out for me, begging me with those wide eyes to come sit and relish in the moment.

“Another night, beautiful.” I turn on my heel and leave the house, into the crisp night. Flurries are falling already, clinging to my clothes and hair as I pace the barren scare park.

I couldn’t save Ronnie, Hayze, that version of him is long since dead. And now to hear the woman I’ve been so consumed by had fallen to a similar fate, I’ve failed them both.

I’m aware that I couldn’t have done anything for her. But it doesn’t dull the burn that comes with knowing both of them have fallen victim to someone that’s supposed to teach them love.