Downfall by S.D. Wasley

  ****

  I thought about Cain’s disguised demand that I stay. Wouldn’t the ultimate rebellion be simply to leave? Maybe I’d never know his secret but at least I would have broken something. I thought about not seeing him anymore and, despite my ire, that awful hollowness hit my chest again. But one or two nights ... just to rattle him? I could handle that. So, one cold, rainy evening during the week, I stayed home. I was jittery all night. As the hours wore on, creeping fear made me cold all over, as if I were lying outside, exposed to the elements. I couldn’t help worrying about them all, Liz, Owen, Jude and Cain, waiting in vain for me in their hole in the ground. I tried to concentrate on the movie Albion put on but kept imagining the interrogation I’d get tomorrow night. Damn brain. I found myself trying to come up with excuses for my absence, all the while hating myself for thinking I even needed to make excuses. I took a long breath and forced a slow exhale, leaning my head back against my chair with my eyes closed.

  “Who’s got a motorbike?” Albion’s question hit me like a lightning strike from a cloudless sky.

  “What? Where?” I gasped.

  Albion twitched the curtain open and pointed to the single headlight shining through the rain into the front window.

  “Oh, no. Oh, hell.”

  I leapt off the sofa and made a run for the front door. Albion swore and struggled to pull on his shoes but I was standing beside Cain before my cousin even got outside.

  “What are you doing here?” I demanded, voice shaking.

  Cain’s eyes were blacker than the sky as he handed me a helmet. “Get on.”

  Although every iota of my conscious will screamed at me not to, I obeyed. I put my arms around him, fuming in silence, but acutely aware of how wonderful it felt to push myself close against his back. Albion gave a surprised shout as we rode away. It felt like I was on fire, burning with humiliation. Fury. Self-reproach. Desire.

  We rode, parked, and climbed down into Gaunt House chamber without exchanging a word. No one looked at my face, which meant I had nowhere to channel the rebellion filling my soul. At length I signaled for Jude to follow me down the corridor into an unlit back room. I would finally kiss the guy properly. Maybe it would be better than anticipated and I could get my thoughts off the supremely frustrating Cain. I found Jude’s chest in the pitch black and moved my hand upwards until my fingers were hooked round the back of his neck. Jude was resistant at first but when I moved closer his enthusiasm escalated. He found my mouth and gave me an eager kiss, sliding his hands around my waist and then dropping them to grip my ass. A slightly alarmed noise escaped my mouth as he pressed his stubbly lips onto it.

  Cain appeared in the doorway, candle in hand. Jude still had his hand on my backside, trying to get his tongue into my mouth. At first I thought I saw something resembling anger but a longer glance revealed his usual impassive mask. As soon as he noticed Cain, Jude pulled away but I made him follow me, stalking back to the main chamber like I didn’t give a damn. My heart was racing so fast, so out of control, it seemed it might give up altogether―and not because of Jude’s lackluster kisses.

  There had to be a way to get the secret out of Cain, or at least shake his monumental calm. Couldn’t I stage some kind of surprise ... an ambush? I couldn’t quite think of what to do but had a feeling the opportunity would present itself soon. Something was brewing. In preparation I played nice for a few nights. Liz, always intuitive, grew uneasy. She saw how I hid my brooding calculations behind playing card games, munching chips and slurping beer, but she didn’t have the courage to confront me.

  Finally, the day of my ambush dawned. I didn’t know it was the day until I arrived at Gaunt House ruin in the afternoon. Then I climbed out of the car, the overcast sky humid, the electrical tower buzzing madly―and it all felt perfect. I only stayed an hour before I said I had ‘a thing’ to go to. I’d be ‘back later.’ It was ‘Uncle Max’s birthday.’ They all nodded but Liz’s head snapped up, her face full of panic. I was already climbing into my car when she caught up to me, out of breath.

  “Where are you going, Frankie?”

  “Out,” I said. Out here, with no one else around, I didn’t even try to disguise the malicious edge to my voice.

  “Frankie, don’t be angry, please,” she begged.

  “I’ll see you later, Liz.”

  The electrical tower buzzed like a swarm of killer bees.