Ruthless Regret (Ruthless Games Duology #2)

Chapter 15

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ZAIN

When I reach my parents’ place, it’s almost ten. I park my car, and step out onto the gravel. The tiny stones crunch underfoot as I walk across the drive, and up the steps to the front door. I could just let myself in, but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. This hasn’t been my home in a long time. So, I knock, and wait.

When the door opens a few minutes later, it reveals my dad. He frowns at me.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay? I thought I’d see you tomorrow when the windows get repaired.”

“Can I come in?”

“Of course you can.” He looks over my shoulder. “Where’s Ashley?”

“She’s not with me.”

I walk past him and into the house. He falls into step beside me.

“Your mom is in the living room. We were just having a snack before bed. Would you like something?”

“No, thanks.”

“Heather, Zain is here.” He announces my presence before we enter the living room.

My mom jumps up and comes around the couch, arms wide. “Zain.” She hugs me, and reaches up to press a kiss to my cheek. “Your dad told me what happened. Is Ashley okay?”

“I’m sure she’s been better.”

Her eyes narrow. “And what does that mean?”

“She went back to New York.” I brace myself for a repeat performance of the conversation I had with Esme.

Instead, she sighs. “Come and sit down. Would you like something to drink?”

I shake my head.

“What about something to eat?”

“No, really. I’m fine.”

I move deeper into the room, and sink into the armchair. My parents sit on the couch, where they’d clearly been sitting before I arrived, since there is a plate of cookies and two glasses of half-drunk milk on the coffee table in front of it.

“Did the police catch the intruder?” Mom asks.

“No. They searched the area, but couldn’t find anything.” I rest my elbows on my knees, and look down at the carpet. “There’s something else.” I take a deep breath, then lift my gaze to meet my mom’s, then my dad’s. “Someone tried to set fire to the house.”

“ What? ” Mom jumps to her feet. “While you were in it? Is that why Ashley has gone to New York?”

“No, she left before that. And no, not that house. The other house.”

The silence following my words is heavy, and the weight of my mom’s stare presses down on me. I slump back into the armchair. No one speaks. They’re clearly waiting for me to say something. Anything .

My dad clears his throat. “Someone tried to set fire to the house you lived in with Jason and Louisa?”

“Yeah.” The word comes out gruffer than I intend, but my nerves are on edge. “I saw someone there. By the time I realized what was going on, they’d gone, and the fire was already burning through the front door.”

“And you didn’t call us?” My mom’s voice is sharp, all warmth from her earlier greeting gone. “Zain, why didn’t you call us?”

“What would you have done?” I snap, then immediately regret it. She doesn’t deserve my anger, but frustration is simmering too close to the surface, and I’m struggling to keep control of it. “It’s not like I asked you to involve yourself in my life.”

She blinks at me, her lips pressed together into a thin line. I look away. I don’t have the energy to go through all this shit again. Not so soon after my conversation with Esme.

“Do you think it’s related to the attack on Ashley?” my dad asks.

“The attack. The murders. Me. Maybe? I don’t know anymore. Everything is just …” I scrub a hand down my face. “I had everything planned out, and it’s just a fucking mess.”

“What do you mean you had everything planned out?” My mom jumps on my words. “What did you plan?”

I can’t help the laugh that breaks free. “Believe me, you don’t want to know.”

Silence falls between us, thick and awkward. The clock on the wall ticks, and the sound is obnoxiously loud. Each second seems to last longer than the one before. I shift in my seat.

I have no fucking idea what to do next. How I’m going to fix this. My plan seemed so easy. So black and white.

“You’re not the same person you were before they imprisoned you. It’s hard to reconcile who you are with who we remember. But,” my dad’s voice is low and measured. “But you’re also not the monster you think you’ve become.”

“You’re wrong about that.” The words slip out before I can stop them. I don’t look at either of them, just keep my focus on the pattern of the carpet beneath my feet. “I’m exactly that monster. I made sure of it.”

“Zain.” The disappointment in my mom’s voice cuts through me. A second or two later, a shadow falls across me, and I look up to find her sitting beside me on the arm of the chair. She places a hand on my shoulder. “No matter what you think prison has made you, you can’t live your life thinking that you’re not worthy of being free. And you have done nothing to need redemption for.”

“You have no idea what I’ve done. Ashley—” I stop, then try again. “She’s gone. And you know what? I deserve it. I treated her like shit because I thought that was the only way I could make her pay for what I thought she did.”

Mom squeezes my shoulder. “She went back to New York because she’s scared. That’s understandable after what happened today. Maybe you both need some space to think. You rushed into this marriage so fast. You barely know each other.”

I laugh again. “She didn’t run because of that. She ran because of me . Because of what I did.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?”

“I forced her to marry me.”

“ Forced her?” Dad joins the conversation again.

I lift my gaze to him. “I had a plan for when I was released. I was going to track Ashley down and make her pay for what she did to me. That plan kept me going for years. I was going to ruin her life, the same way she ruined mine.”

“Zain—”

I lift a hand to cut off my mom. “Let me finish.” Because if I don’t get all of this out of my head now, I’ll never tell them. “She didn’t marry me because we hit it off. She married me because I gave her no choice. I threatened her, I threatened her mom. I forced her to sign a contract, giving me control over her life for the next fourteen months.” My laugh this time is bitter. “And you know what? None of it is even her fucking fault. She was scared of me before we met, but now … now she hates me. And I caused that.”

“You don’t know that. You’re still very much in a prison mindset that you’re looking at the world in a way it doesn’t exist. Maybe Ashley does hate you, but she married you, Zain. That means something. Whether you forced her hand or not.”

“I married her because it was part of my plan,” I bite back. “It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

“Then why are you telling us? Why does it matter that she’s gone?”

His words hit me hard. I don’t have an answer. At least, not one I’m willing to say out loud. Because I don’t want to give voice to the fact that everything about this … about her … does matter.