Page 94 of Ashes

“I’m really not,” he said, studying me.

“Not what?”

“Difficult to talk to.”

I gaped at him for a moment. “You’re in my head right now, aren’t you?” I wanted to get to the bottom of whatever the fuck he was.

“No. You’re in mine,” he whispered.

His words sent chills up my spine. I wasn’t easily unnerved, but Seth Cain had a way about him. Maybe it was the same way I had about me that set people on edge whenever I was too close. I let my thoughts flow, testing him, wondering if he’d pick up on anything. I could kill him out here and bury his body. No one would know. No one would miss him.

I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, and his bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s the hardest part,” he finally said.

“What’s that?” I took the rabbit off the spit and tore a chunk of meat off, popping it into my mouth.

“Not the killing. Not me being dead. It’s that no one would miss me. That’s sad, isn’t it, Dante? That no one has ever cared enough about me to miss me?”

I swallowed the meat, trying to hide my surprise and discomfort.

What the fuck else could he see inside my head?

I said nothing as I continued to eat.

“Rinny was the only one, and I fucked that up,” he continued. “Don't hate me for trying to find someone to give a damn about me. I know it’s easy to hate someone like me after all my crimes, but I’m human too. Or at least I think I am.”

“You think she’ll forgive you for what you did to her?”

“Do you think she’ll forgive you?” His gaze narrowed on me. “You fucked her when she couldn’t fight back. In her hospital room. When you were alone with her. You’re the one who made a bet that created all of this. Do you deserve to be forgiven?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t, but I want to be. So I see where you’re coming from.”

We were quiet again for several minutes before he spoke.

“May I have some?”

I hesitated for a moment before I handed over the rabbit and watched as he ripped a piece of meat off and placed it into his mouth. He took several more pieces before giving it back to me to finish off.

“May I ask you a question?” he asked.

“Sure you don’t already know the answer?” I muttered.

“I. . . don’t.” He cleared his throat.

This Asylum seemed uncertain and cautious. It put me on edge.

“Ask,” I said, chewing.

“When you cut up the body parts for your father. . . did you also dine with him?”

I stared at him, my body tense. “Why would you ask me that?”

He appeared genuinely confused as his forehead wrinkled like he was thinking hard. “My mind is really fuzzy lately,” he finally said. “I-I don’t like it. Everything’s coming and going.”

“What the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“I. . . know the trade. I know your sins. Most of them. These are just not speaking to me.”

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