Page 58 of This Haunted Heart

I went on a hunt to find better equipment, but my search took me to a dark set of steps that led into a cellar or cold room of some kind, not far from the kitchen. I fetched a lantern so I could have a better look. The floors and walls were made of stone. The air cooled as I descended the stairs.

My heart leapt up into my throat when I reached the bottom.

Two cells sat side by side with rolling doors sealed shut by fat metal locks. The bars stretched from floor to ceiling. Cobwebs nestled in the corners. Time seemed to stop as I stood there, jaw slack, staring at that small prison. The rush of blood was loud in my ears.

Footsteps on the stairs pulled me out of my stupor.

“What are you doing down here?” Lochlan asked, hefting a large candle to light his way.

Hands shaking, I pointed at the prison. “What in the nine circles of hell is that?”

“Ah.” Lochlan rubbed at his stubble and had the decency to look sheepish. “When I bought this property, there was a smaller manor already on it. I built up from there. It had belonged to a warden, and this was where he kept prisoners waiting on a marshal to come and claim them.”

“Why is itstillhere?” I demanded, voice strained. His explanation did nothing to calm the prickle of fear growing in my chest or the unease churning in my belly. The smell of rust and mold thickened in my nose.

He met my imploring gaze with a sigh. “It was just an oversight at first. Then there was a time when I thought I wanted to see you behind bars,” he confessed.

“My God, Loch! But it’s much too dark down here!”

He lit the gas sconce over his shoulder with the candle, and the stone hall illuminated dully. The cells looked even shabbier in the ochre glow. This was a house that wanted to be lived in, but down here was different. Down here there was nothing but sullen quiet and the salty scent of iron that reminded me too much of tears.

“I would never leave you in the dark, Rynn,” he said, “but at one time my heart desired only revenge on the villain who’d wronged me, and I wanted to put you in a prison—a proper one.”

“How can you say that?” I glared at him. “How could you even think it?”

He stood stonily, letting candlewax drip over his fingers. “It’s not such a leap to make. The last twenty years have been a torment no circle in hell could ever match.”

“The last twenty years have been a torment for me, too,” I fired back. “I wasn’t dogged by spirits the way you are, but the ghost of you never let me rest. The ghost of the terrible thing I’d done haunts me still.”

He went quiet, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You earned those ghosts the same way I earned mine.”

“How many times did I beg you to run away with me?” The words trembled leaving my lips. “How many times did you insist that we stay, that we’d never make it on our own?”

“I feared what would happen to us. Clearly, I was wrong to be afraid. You behave as though you lived the life you always wanted, one of reckless freedom and—”

“Is that what you think?” My sneer was full of scorn. “That my life has been wonderful without you? Would you have me list out my woes instead? If I told you how cold andempty and frightening the years without you have been, wouldthatassuage you even a little? What if I told you how lonely I’ve been, how lost? How often I’ve been uncertain I’d see tomorrow? How I’ve wished and prayed, begging and pleading with God or the Fates or whoever out there is listening that I could go back to that night andmakeyou leave with me!”

“I’m not trying to start a battle with you over who has suffered more,” he said, his tone gentling. “I meant only to explain why my mind went to this prison. You stole from me. You set me up for this.” He pointed at his scars.

“You stole fromme,” I fired back. “You drugged me. Tricked me. Forced me here!”

Lochlan stiffened. His nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. “I did, didn’t I? Why don’t you give me back what you took first, since you know damn well that ring meant a great deal to me, and I’ll give you back what I stole, since it means so much to you.”

My fingers tightened around the lantern handle, metal digging into my skin. “I can’t do that.”

“Ah, I see,” he said coldly. “You hocked it as soon as you could.”

“I didn’t hock it,” I ground out. It was with great restraint that I resisted kicking him in the shins for thinking so poorly of me, no matter how I deserved it. “Asking me to marry you meant the world to me. That ring meant the world to me, too.”

“I still remember how you took from everyone after the slightest irritation,” he said, pressing on like he wasn’t hearing me at all. “But you never stole from me. I used to think it meant something.”

“It did!”

“But then you went and took the only possession I caredabout. The only proof I had that I’d once had a father who loved me—who could stand the sight of me. My only belonging that was truly mine and not—”

“I was young and foolish!” I fired back. “It shouldn’t have happened, but I fail to see how holding on to your anger for twenty years fixes anything at all! I certainly don’t see how stuffing me in there, even just in your mind, would change anything! It wouldn’t get you your ring back! It won’t heal your scars or chase the ghosts away! It won’t return our lost years together!”

He shook candle wax off his fingers, then squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I wish you’d stop saying you were ‘young’ like it changes anything.”

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