Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             Especially when Aaron’s body lies motionless in one of them. A huge tube comes out of his mouth like a colourless snake. His pale skin is more suited for death rather than life.

                             My jaw tightens. Not Aaron, too. I’ve lost enough already.

                             I sit next to Dylan on the private room’s sofa. “Should we take him to better doctors abroad?” My whisper is too loud in the silent room.

                             “He’s out of danger.” Dylan lowers the sleeve of his shirt. Despite the nurses’ orders for him to eat after donating blood to Aaron, water is the only thing he has consumed. “The tube is only to aid his lungs. He will come back.”

                             “He’s a tenacious bastard.” My shoulders straighten. “Speaking of which, there’s a girl living in his quarters.”

                             Dylan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Since when does he bring women to the estate?”

                             “And since when does he avoid killing for three weeks? Since when does he express his psychosis aloud?” I heave a long sigh. “If...” I cut off, pursing my lips. “When he survives this, things will change. I’m done giving him freedom when he obviously needs help.”

                             “You know I’m on your side but a help you force upon him isn’t help, it’s an order.” He glances between Aaron and me. “I’m not a fan of the bastard, but if you push him, he’ll rebound against you.”

                             With jerky hands, I loosen my tie. “Then what do you suggest? Huh? I sit back and watch him annihilate himself? I can’t lose him!”

                             “I’m only stating facts.” Dylan scratches his temple, eyes tired. “The mental institute will make you lose him for good, Tristan.”

                             I point in Aaron’s direction, his dry lips a frightening shade of blue. “I’m already losing him, Dylan, better break him than regret it when it’s too late.”

                             “You will regret it either way.”

                             I shake away the thick cloak of the disturbing memories assaulting my head. “Father asked me to take care of him. It was his final wish. Even if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll find a way to bring Aaron back.”

                             Dylan rubs his hand over his face and sinks back into the sofa. “I’m smelling a disaster. A terrible one.”



                             . . . . .



                             Three days later, Aaron finally opens his eyes. His cheekbones protruded, his black gaze dimmed, even more than their usual deadliness.

                             All it matters is that he’s alive.

                             My little brother is back.

                             I beep the button over his head. Not long after, doctors and nurses barge into the room. After checking him up left and right like he’s a puppet, they remove the giant tube from his mouth.

                             He coughs an ugly stagnant sound, for which the doctors scribble some notes in their endless boards.

                             I inch closer to his bedside and clear my throat. “Welcome back, Aaron.”