Page 44 of Splitting Secrets
Of course, the ridiculous nickname Raze uses.Little Nightmare.I don’t know why I’m so embarrassed to find his brother even knows about it.
“Do you talk to him often?” I ask conversationally, in hopes it will make him feel more comfortable.
He shakes his head as a bug randomly appears in his hands and begins crawling around his skin. I fight the urge to scream or scoot away. “I try to talk to him, but he doesn’t ever answer me,” he admits sadly.
“Maybe he doesn’t know you’re there,” I suggest.
Bane doesn’t respond. He’s too distracted by the beetle making its way up and down his arm. Instead of prying, I take the opportunity to sit up and get a better look at him.
The similarities between him and Raze are astounding. They could be twins. I’m sure they were mistaken for it as kids. Except where it’s clear that Raze carries a heavy emotional load on his shoulders, Bane appears to be free of everything. He’s in his ownworld, unconcerned with anything happening outside of it. He feels sweet and innocent.
Raze is terrifying.
Perhaps that’s how all spirits are. Although, Finley sure had a lot more attitude.
My eyes land back on the beetle, and I realize I’ve seen it before. In the tattoo across Raze’s chest.
I point to it, smiling as I ask, “What do you have there?”
Bane closes his hand and the beetle immediately disappears. “Nothing,” he rushes out, and the action is so childlike, I want to laugh.
Instead, I tilt my head. “Hey, you don’t have to hide it from me.”
“Raze says no one wants to look at nasty old bugs.” He rocks on his heels and blinks rapidly. “Or he used to say that.”
I make a show of rolling my eyes and scoffing. “Well, he’sobviouslywrong. I’ve never seen a beetle that beautiful before.”
Bane smiles, then opens his hand to reveal the beetle again. “Your mom tried to save me,” he randomly tells me in an even tone, as if death doesn’t faze him in the slightest. The mention of my mother has my heart dropping into my stomach, though.
It’s another reminder of how we’re all tied together through this.
“Did she?” I carefully ask. I don’t want to push too hard talking about his death and scare him away. I’ve already seen the vision. There’s not much else for me to pry about.
“Yes, but she couldn’t. It made her very sad.”
I frown at that. What an odd little boy? “I’m sure that was hard to experience.”
“My death made a lot of people very sad,” he goes on as if I hadn’t spoken. “Especially Raze. He thinks it’s his fault. That’s why I still hang out with him, even though he ignores me. I want him to know it’s okay.”
“That’s very nice of you.”
His eyebrows shoot up as he looks directly into my eyes for the first time, his voice rising excitedly. “But now he has you and you can tell him for me, right?”
“Um,” I hesitate, thinking of how awkward it would be to tell Raze—the man who nearly got me killed and who I told only hours ago that I’d never trust him again—that his dead brother says hello. I hate the way his expression falls at my lack of response. Finally, I sigh and nod my head.
“Yeah, I think I can do that.”
“You can trust him,” he insists.
Can spirits read minds? God, how awful would that be?I already have to be careful around Raze.
“I can hear your thoughts when you keep the passageway open,” he replies.
“How do I close it?”
He shrugs, then goes on. “You don’t have to be afraid of Raze. He won’t hurt you. He’s just protective.”
How do I argue without informing him of everything his brother has already done? Is he aware of what he does for the Syndicate?
