Cinders [Completed]

Chapter 17: Home Sweet Home

Jonah comes to see me later that day. His blond hair looks peculiarly grey, matching his dismal pallor.

"What did Dad say?" He asks.

"Not much," I reply, wetting my lips anxiously.

I ignore the tapping of pacing steps outside the door. They began when Jonah walked in, and I know they belong to the Prince. I wish that I wasn't so happy that he was still outside.

Jonah nods, like he was expecting this. He staggers forward and collapses on the chair next to my bed. It squeaks slightly and the steps outside quicken.

I examine Jonah's face, trying to read the emotion behind it. His head is lowered; but then, it usually is.

Slowly, he lifts his head and locks his eyes on mine.

He's crying.

I blink, stunned. It's not the same as Mom's wailing tears. These are slow and small, dripping down his face gently. His lips are slightly parted.

"Lee, we're free," he whispers. Surprise floods my entire body.

He lurches forward and hugs me.

I'm frozen, for a moment.

I didn't realize it before, but Jonah hasn't hugged me in years. We hadn't shared so much as a handshake.

Then, all at once, I wrap my arms around him and pull him tight, reminded of the five year old boy that hid behind me when our parents fought. I had forgotten, somehow, that this is the same person. The same little brother.

"I didn't know what to do," Jonah cries into my shoulder. "It got worse, and worse, and it felt like an anvil was sitting on my chest. Oh, Goddess, Lee."

He becomes quiet, shrinking back onto the chair.

"I don't know how Lucy will ever forgive me," he breathes, melancholy painting his tone. This is the most I have ever heard him talk.

"Forgive you?"

Jonah's eyebrows pull together in an expression of sorrow, but he doesn't respond.

"Jonah?"

I wait for him to look up before I carry on.

"I don't know if I can stay here," I confess, my voice going nearly silent.

The pacing outside skips a step.

Jonah pales but nods his head slightly.

"Where would you go?"

"I - I don't know. Maybe, with the money I have saved up - I could find a nice place to live. You could come, and Lucy and Mom. We could get away. Start over."

Jonah's grey eyes pin me to my place. I shift uncomfortably.

"He's your mate," he remarks casually.

"Yes."

"It was you, at the ball. You ran."

"Yes."

"And you want to run again?"

My eyes narrow. "It's more complicated than that, Jonah."

I want to glare at him, but his face isn't malicious. It's soft and concerned.

I can almost hear what he's thinking, because it mirrors my thoughts.

The Prince wouldn't let me get away, really. Attempting to leave would most definitely result in a change in his behavior, and then I really would be his prisoner. And then, who knew if Lucy would be taken care of?