Now that the trial has been put to rest, Rueben believes that life is on an upward trend. It's not long before he understands he is sadly mistaken.
Around every corner lies a new demon lurking with the desire to rip the rug out from under him. He m...
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𝗥ueben folded and unfolded his fingers in and out of themselves over and over again as the elevator climbed up the thirty floors to Rayne's former Penthouse. Memories, thoughts, and photographic flashbacks in his mind of the last time he rode this golden machine was all that he could focus on. The last time he listened to this gut feeling, he had almost lost her.
Why does it feel like the past is repeating itself?
He found it hard to breathe – couped up in this metal room. His mind glazed back to seeing her car still in its spot in the parking garage, and the concierge at the front desk claiming he hadn't seen her come back down since going up an hour ago.
A heavy hand grabbed onto his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked over and watched the pity – filled facial expression of his father deeply. Rueben knew he felt it. The coldness of the air between them. The silent dings after each passing floor. The tremors in their bodies at the impending reveal that was behind the door.
Of course, they both had more to worry about than just Rayne.
Beau was with her too.
"It's going to be okay son," Emmet spoke unconvincingly.
Rueben couldn't offer anything more than a swift nod and a redirected glance. He spent the next several seconds only staring at the red letters on the digital screen above them.
Twenty – five.
Twenty – six
Twenty – seven.
Twenty – eight.
Twenty – nine.
Thirty.
He pushed through the golden doors faster than they opened, walking quickly to the only door in front of him. The only door on this floor. It was a curse. If something really did happen, there was no one nearby to hear her pain – there was no one to help.
Rueben grabbed the doorknob and began to twist, but stopped short as he felt Emmet's hand hold against his grip again. He looked over quickly, taking in another sad glance.
He knows.
"Whatever we find behind this door – you have to promise to keep your head," he warned, "—if something happened, it will be no good if you can't rationalize a solution."
He nodded again, about to respond with words when his body became rigid. His gaze lowered to his feet, having not wanted to look directly into the room once the door opened; what he saw shook him to the core.
