Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             After a long silence, his words undid me. “The urge to kill you is bigger and stronger than anything I’ve experienced in my whole damn life, Eva. Ever since I knew you, I’m in a constant battle against myself. Even using other women’s blood to not draw yours isn’t helping much. Why are you making it harder by taking someone else’s side? Why do you make me feel like you’re unworthy of my sacrifices? I lost my sister, the only one who understood me, for you. Why can’t I have someone to understand in my son? Why do you have to take that, too?” Arthur fell into that hole again where neither I nor his son can save him. Arthur fought so hard but for how long can he keep up the fight?

                             I fought the hardest. Over the years, I tried my best to feel for the both of us. I can’t do it anymore. I’m too tired to keep going at this life. I want it to end.



                             My shaky fingers release the journal, a shadow of a scream forms at the back of my throat.

                             Oh. God. Aaron is a replica of his father, isn’t he? That explains the vacant look in his eyes when he choked me. He probably wasn’t seeing me at all. It didn’t matter who he kills as long as he breaks the neck between his hands.

                             Alexander wasn’t able to save his nephew after all. Aaron followed his genes and became a psychopath.

                             Does that mean he fights it, too? Did I trigger him somehow?

                             I shake my head frantically. No, I’m not going there. I won’t blame myself for his craziness. It’s not my fault. I’m the victim here.

                             But is Aaron a victim too? He certainly wouldn’t have been the same if he was raised by a loving family or at least parents who didn’t use him for their own benefits. Both Arthur and Eva never put their son’s needs before their own. He was collateral damage. If they fought, they only did it for themselves. None of them tried to understand a child’s feelings.

                             I hope they’re both dead. Aaron doesn’t need those people in his life.

                             Ugh. Dammit. I read the journal to fuel my hate and find a way to bring Aaron down, but here I am inflaming my overflowing sympathy for him.

                             I need to talk to him. What if he has an explanation for his murder attempt? After all, it was the first time he’s got physically violent with me.

                             This time I’ll get some answers, I won’t let him shut me down like every other time.

                             I jump out of bed and scurry out of the room. Is he in his bedroom? I tap on his closed door, my voice tentative. “Aaron, are you in there?”

                             No answer.

                             “Open up! We need to talk.”

                             The damn bastard. How dare he ignore me after what he’s done? I kick at the hard wooden door, ignoring the stinging in my toes. “Hey! Come— “

                             A loud bang outside pulls my attention. It sounded like a gunshot. Aaron mentioned hunting before. Is he doing that?

                             I inch to the window at the end of the hallway. Blood freezes in my veins.

                             Down in the field, a woman in black clothes lies in the midst of a small pool of blood. That’s not what locks my muscles and forbids my lungs from functioning. It’s Aaron lying not far from her. Blood gushes out of his mouth and chest, soaking his T-shirt, dyeing the stony pavement red. Aaron’s face is pale, no life in his limbs. No twitch in his fluttered eyes. Just blood. Everywhere.