The Last We Fell

12. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔖𝔲𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔫 | 𝔄𝔡𝔞𝔪

It's been a long time since I had to deal with this level of stupid. I cannot yet believe people like Ryan and his band of boys manage to exist unabashedly in this day and age with so much ignorance and disconnect from real world problems and a general lack of decorum. It astonishes me how one can go about acting like they owned everyone and the ground they walked on. 

Getting them away from the scene they created earlier was one thing, but getting Ryan to let go of the humiliation he endured is a whole different story. I don't know why I keep involving myself in unnecessary situations that have nothing to do with me, but of course I'm a fool to assume that my return to this town will be anything but the opposite of quiet and smooth. There was also the matter of wanting to get on Prim's good side, which meant I needed to earn Lilianne's trust. If it's the only way I can get my sister back then I'm ready to grovel at her feet if she will help me with it. Similarly, if that meant jumping head first to break a fight between Dominic and Ryan, so be it.

Although it took the better part of my already short-termed patience to drive Ryan back to his house, convincing him along the way to let this feud go without losing my temper was a feat on its own. I highly doubted he would just let it slide without good reason. I had to phrase the dirt I have on him nicely enough to manipulate him into behaving himself, careful not to make it sound like a threat because I wasn't done with this guy just yet. See the thing with Ryan and his minions is that they slip up quite often. They assume their parents will sweep their messes and they can continue doing whatever they like, forgetting anyone with enough reason can keep tabs to pull at the right place and time. I just happened to be that someone here and now. Dominic Hughes is just not cut out for the dirty games we play. While I'm sure he thinks he has a good reason to pick the hornet's nest, it doesn't make it any less of a big mistake on his end.

Ryan's house was half silent when we arrived, its owners nowhere to be found judging from the dark second floor. The few staff we bumped into as I helped a tipsy, angry Ryan inside were dismissed or shouted at rudely. I huffed, resisting the urge to throw him on the hard floor and leave him here to freeze. I have had my fill tolerating him for the past little while, but unfortunately I still needed to loosen his tongue to get him speaking- that is if he had any valuable information in the first place.

I didn't take much time to wander as I dragged him up the stairs. Unlike the last time I was here, no one loitered about, no one was going to stop me from doing a bit of exploring. Throwing Ryan on his bed, I got curious and pushed the partly opened office door to peek inside. It looked like every typical home office I've ever seen. An impressive desk stood in the middle of the room, a big painting taking up most of the wall behind it, sat between two long windows with the blinds drawn shut. To the right was a door that led to a powder room, the rest of the wall taken up by a commode with many drawers. I could still faintly hear footsteps on the storey below so I had no time or business to look at every nook and cranny. I headed for the desk, opening the drawers and sorting through the many files and folders. What I had in mind wouldn't be too hard to find -if it even existed- but my heart still hammered deafeningly loud in my ear as I reached for a red leather-bound folder.

"I don't want to deal with his tantrums." Whispering voices were heard outside. Judging from their conversation it must have been the maids we left downstairs in the kitchen. They probably had to check on Ryan out of formality. I held my breath and hid behind the door, listening in on their footsteps as they reluctantly walked past the office to Ryan's room on the far end of the hallway. 

I took out my phone and quickly snapped pictures of the pages in my hand. I slipped out of the office and pulled the door to its partly opened position from before, jogging down the stairs and out of the mansion. The streets were almost deserted as I drove back to my place, trying to make sense of what I had found. Nights like these leave a bad taste on my tongue when the memories come rushing without a stop. I am aware I should have moved on and let the past be in the past, but do I have the right to? I feel I might go crazy pursuing the doubts and loose ends that make no sense in my head, and yet I can't seem to give up and move forward. In a way, chasing a sense of harmony and wholeness again is what I'm still looking for after so many years. I am unable to put things back together they way they were. There's a fork in the road. I have taken the road that took me away from here but look where I ended up: square zero. Running away without closure or clarity is a mistake I'm not willing to repeat again. Therefore, I'm taking the other way this time around. There is Primrose, a starting and key point to find some peace and forgiveness. There is Liam, and eventually mom...