Page 73 of Dark Knight

"Because I'm getting too close to the truth?"

"Because you're making a goddamn fool of yourself!" he snarls. "Leave it alone! This has all been about you from the beginning. Do you think I would have returned here if it weren't for you? I never wanted to set eyes on this town again. Do you want to know something else? I even hated when Callum started putting money into this fucking hell hole. It could all burn to the ground and I would piss on the ashes. That's what this place means to me. That's all it's ever held."

"You're lying. Even now, you're lying! And the worst part is, I don't know if you're lying to me or to yourself. And it's pitiful."

"You don't know—"

"I know how happy you were on that motorcycle. How peaceful you were at the lake. You didn't hate everything about this town. You just hated this house. But don't blame that on me. I didn't ask to come here. I could have gone anywhere, and you know that."

"The little princess needed someplace nobody would be able to find her."

"I could have gone anywhere," I whisper, because I'd scream otherwise. "But you brought me here, and now you're blaming your bullshit on me. I have nothing to do with any of this. I didn't do anything to you. When are you going to stop treating me like the enemy?"

"Leave me the fuck alone! Why can't you leave all of this alone?"

"Because that's no way to live. All the anger you have, all the hatred and secrets. I'm sorry if I care."

"You don't care! You're just nosy. You have to know. And the further away I push you, the more determined you are. That's what this is about. Don't pretend you give a shit about me. If you did, you would know it's not as easy as telling a few stories. Going back to all that shit? Do you really want me to do that just to make you feel better? Because that's all it's about. You. What you think you deserve to know. It's my fucking life we're talking about! Not yours!"

Under all my anger, under the skittering, icy fear that stirs up in me when he's like this, there's knowing he's right. If I really cared, I wouldn't want to drag him through all of that again. But... "It wouldn't matter if you wouldn't make it my problem. If you didn't have to be such an asshole to me. Hot and cold. I never know which version of you I'm going to face from one minute to the next. You think you're any better than your father? Did he ever make you feel that way?"

I went too far. I know it even before his head snaps around, before spit flies from his mouth when he bellows a single word. "Enough!"

His face is a mask of seething fury when he picks up a candle from the coffee table and hurls it across the room. I see it happening in slow motion, the candle tumbling through the air, end over end, sailing toward the fireplace.

Toward the urn over the fireplace.

Do I think I can stop it? I don't know. I only know I lunge for it, reaching out with both hands, but it's too late. I was never going to stop this from happening.

My shriek rings out in my ears, but the sound of the urn crashing to the floor is louder. The lid falls off and just like that, what's left of my mother spreads across the floor and hangs in the air. I'm frozen in shock, staring at the mess. My brain can't handle what my eyes are telling it.

It's Romero's voice that breaks through. "Oh, God."

"No. No, no, no!" My knees go out and I drop to the floor with my head in my hands. I want to reach out and scoop it all back up, but it's everywhere and I don't want her all over me. However, now she's all over the floor so what am I supposed to do? "No," I moan. It's the only word I can think of.

"Fuck, I am so sorry." He crouches close to me. "I'll clean this up. It'll be—"

"You can't clean it up! Asshole!" I can barely breathe as sobs shake me from head to toe, barely seeing through the tears. "You can't just scoop it up! These are her ashes! Don't touch them!"

He makes the mistake of putting a hand on my shoulder. I fling it off, then shove him away. I could kill him. I won't be satisfied until I do. "You bastard. Is there anything else you want to take from me? Do you want to hurt me again? Why not? This was the last fucking thing I had! And I'll never get it back!"

My head is spinning and I think I'm going to be sick. There's sweat rolling down the back of my neck. I can't stop shaking. And I want to hurt him; I need to hurt him.

"What are you talking about? You're hysterical."

"Don't you fucking tell me how I am!" I fight my way to my feet, swaying, breathless, as one sob after another shakes my body. "From the beginning, you started taking things from me. You took my wing in the house. You took all of Dad's attention. His pride. And then, when he finally decided to start paying attention to me again, what did he do? He made you my fucking guard dog! You've been hanging over me for most of my life. You took him from me, and now you took her!"

"I never meant to do that! That's not my fault!"

"No, nothing's your fault. The way you shut me out. The way you kiss me, then make it seem like I'm a filthy whore you can't be bothered to touch! You tell me you want me, then you treat me like garbage. I don't even know who I am anymore because of you! I don't know what I want. I don't know where I belong!"

"What are you talking about? How was any of that because of me?"

I don't know what I'm saying anymore. It's all coming out like water through a fire hose. And now that it's out I'm weak, but when he touches me, my hands tighten to fists and I pummel his chest and shoulders. "Leave me alone! Damn you! I hate you!"

All he does is grip my arms and hold on tight no matter how I fight to be free. "You listen to me. All I ever wanted was to help you. That's why we're here. I thought I could help you. I thought I could bring you back to your dad and Bianca. And to me."

"Bullshit. You don't care. The way you talk to me. The names you call me. You've never given a shit about me. You resented me as much as I resented you. Don't try to rewrite history now."