Page 48 of Unlocking Ruin

“Are you analyzing me like code?” he asks, with a sparkle in his eye. “You must really like me if you want to hack into my head.”

“Sometimes people hack to dismantle.”

“I have to earn your trust. I get it. I could dangle everything I know about you over your head, make you work for it. I won’t. I’ll tell you everything.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“You,” he replies, his eyes seductive. “Hopefully, if you’ll have me.”

I snort.

“Why does that make you uncomfortable?”

“My own parents didn’t want me, and they have a biological need to keep their offspring alive. So why would you, a stranger, care so much about me?”

“There is a parent who wants you; he just chose to keep you hidden and safe. But before we get to him, we need to look at your mother.”

He leans to the right, closer to the fire. The darkness of his hair now reveals its true colors: a deep raw chocolate hue set ablaze by the fire. His strong brow bone keeps parts of his eyes in perpetual shadow. He exudes power in the most deadly form—silence.

Steffen doesn’t need to scream and shout like Frank.

Steffen is the predator: lurking, stalking you from the bush, ready to pounce when you think you’re safe.

“Your mother owed a man named Lorenzo, the head of the Italian mafia on the East Coast, a lot of money. To pay off her debt, she was ordered to sleep with your father and get knocked up. Lorenzo wanted to blackmail your biological father for millions. The plan worked; your mom got pregnant, but only seven months into the pregnancy, Lorenzo was killed. Your father was never alerted, and your mom was free of the mob but stuck with you. So she ran.”

Looks like running is in my DNA.

“Bullshit,” I snap. “Show me the proof.”

“I was wondering when you’d ask.” He gets up, goes to the bookshelf, and opens the bottom cabinet. He takes out a giant file folder and gives it to me.

My eyes narrow as I seize it. Inside the manilla folder, a paper trail of evidence becomes visible. The archive includes photos and written accounts of my mother encountering men in clubs. Lorenzo’s phone was tapped; the entire conversation of him ordering my mom to get pregnant is here in writing.

I close the folder. “How do I know this is real? I want a digital trail.”

Steffen lowers his chin and exits the room. I look at the folder, reopen it, and continue reading more files. Inside me, I feel a swirl of indignation, heartbreak, and confusion.

I jump to my feet, go to the fireplace, and toss the folder in. I’m watching, anticipating the final embers of the papers turning to ash.

Steffen releases a low, uneasy sound. As I glance over my shoulder, I catch him gripping a laptop with white-knuckled intensity. The truth blazes through me: that laptop holds files that back up everything he has said.

Panic floods my body, washing away any trace of reason.

“Fuck you!” I stomp past him. “I’m done.”

“Don’t run, Rylan.”

I dash up those foolish glass stairs and back into my room, where I jump into bed and hide under the covers like a kid.

My existence is reduced to settling a debt. My heavy breath gets stuck beneath the blankets, making my face flush. Eventually it becomes too hot, so I drag the covers down and walk back to the sitting room with my tail between my legs.

Steffen remains in his usual place, a drink in hand, observing the flames. He turns, sensing me. I glance toward my usual couch spot, noticing the laptop there.

“Do you think I’m a coward?”

“When you poke an animal, its initial reaction is to withdraw. Some then retreat further, while others lash out. You will eventually master attacking, Rylan. Don’t worry.”

“Why do you want me to?”