Jareth inhaled with icy understanding. “They were your bullet.”
Kas nodded, not looking at me. “The day when I finally decided to end it, I was gonna drink myself into that numb nothingness and then walk out into the snow and go to sleep.” He rolled his shoulders, clearing his throat. “It helped knowing they were there...just in case. It gave me the strength to read as much as I could and figure out how to cultivate and hunt. I figured I could die anytime I wanted, but while I was alive, I preferred a full belly over an empty one.”
I swallowed hard, blinking fast.
In just a few paragraphs, Kas had revealed more about his struggles than he had in weeks. It made me want to hug him for turning a corner and slap him for taking so long. I hurt for him, all while I wanted to jump up and down in joy.
If talking was healing, then...he’s healing.
Jareth turned his head and pinned me with his bi-colored eyes. “He hasn’t told you any of that, has he?”
Kas stiffened beside me. “I wasn’t ready to share.”
“And you are now?” Jareth asked, his lips tipping up in a cruel smile. “You ready to tell her everything, Kassen? The way Storymaker had a hard-on for you even though he never stuck it in you? The way he made you watch when he’d fuck Quell—”
“Shut it—” Kas hissed.
I stepped in front of him, almost brushing my chest with Jareth’s, acting as a shield between him and Kas. “He doesn’t need to tell me. I know enough—”
Jareth rolled his eyes. “You don’t know shit.” Backing up, he drank a large mouthful from his glass before sprawling into the chair by the fireplace. He winced in pain, revealing Kas’s beating still affected him; even if he was so layered in coldness he seemed impenetrable. “See, the thing about my brother and me is...we don’t need to talk about it. He looks at me, I look at him, and we know. Most of the time, we were in the same room while shit happened.” He took another large mouthful. “Remember, Kas? Remember that time Storymaker bound us together. Our wrists together, our asses up. It was one of our first times serving together, but definitely not the last.” His eyes tightened as if he deliberately relived all the pain of that night. “We held fucking hands while they raped—”
“Enough!” I shouted. Fear siphoned through me. If he pushed Kas too much, he’d snap. He’d black out. His mind would trip, and self-preservation would delete every topic he couldn’t handle. “Whatever you think you’re doing, stop it.” I balled my hands, defending Kas from someone I never thought would become his enemy.
What the hell was Jareth doing?
Couldn’t he see that Kas was fragile? That he needed psychiatrist help not to be forced down a monster-filled memory lane.
“You want to go there, Jareth?” Kas threw back his entire glass of alcohol, sitting on the couch behind him. “Fine.”
I spun with my mouth open. “What? No...you know what will happen.” I sat beside him, sloshing the strong-smelling liquor onto my hoodie. “You’ll black out again. You’ll—”
“It’s okay.” Kas patted my leg, squeezing me tight before reclining into cushions. He looked oddly resigned and...ready.
Oh, God.
Was he truly going to do this?
“It might trigger you again—” I rushed.
“I can guarantee most of the shit inside my head will trigger me for most of my life.” He tipped forward with his glass as Jareth shoved to his feet and poured another round, sending amber liquor right to the top.
“Then why?” I asked, shaking my head as Jareth tried to top off my own untouched drink.
“Suit yourself,” Jareth muttered under his breath, stalking back to this seat and pouring an equally generous second glass for himself. “You’ll be begging for some liquid courage once we get to the good stuff.” He winked. “It’s not your typical bedtime tale, Gemma Ashford.”
I squared my shoulders. “Then I don’t think it’s necessary. Kas can work through whatever triggers he has on his own time. We were doing fine before you came along.”
“Oh, please.” Jareth laughed hard, mocking and rude. “You weren’t doing fine. From what I gather, it’s been a monotony of him trying to strangle you—which, by the way, was Storymaker’s thing with Kas. Did he tell you that?” Jareth’s eyes shot with evil, glittering brown and blue ugliness. “Want to know the reason he has such a fascination with your elegant little neck?”
I held up my hand. “No. Not unless Kas is ready—”
“He might never be ready. Consider me doing you a favor, silly girl.” Jareth wedged his elbows onto his knees, his fingers turning white around his glass between his spread legs. “Kas was the favored one. And by favored one, I mean the most mentally fucked over.”