Marked

Chapter Eighteen

What felt like hours later, Rachel and Ruth exited the room, disposing of their paper gowns and masks on the way out.

"What was all that for?" Rachel asked. "Is it to remove the mark?"

"Oh, no. There's no way to remove it, I've already told you. I'm practicing."

"Practicing for what?"

"For when I have to transfer the implant from Nicolas to Copenhagen."

Rachel pursed her lips and frowned. "Will it kill Nicolas?"

"It might. There's no way to know for sure. I'll sedate him once we've captured him, and I'll do a transferring procedure that I haven't done in nearly two decades. I need to practice."

"I see."

"You don't feel any type of way about that? The fact that it may kill him?"

"Should I? Rachel asked.

Ruth pursed her lips like she'd sucked on a lemon. "Hell, if I know. You always feel things, strong things that I sometimes don't understand. Though if you ask me, he deserves to die."

Rachel pursed her lips. "I--I don't know that anyone deserves to die, but--"

"But what?"

"But I wouldn't mourn him if he died. Not even a little bit." Rachel said quietly. The truth of those words sank deep into her heart, startling her with the coldness of them.

Ruth let out a bitter laugh.

"I don't care enough to hate many things... but I hate him. I hate him for what he made me do."

"Why did you do what you did? I've wondered ever since...ever since I found out. I've never known you to give in to what anyone else wants...ever."

"I was young and stupid in love. Back then I would have done anything for him, kind of like you with that boy. And he had this way of convincing people, even when he was dead wrong, even when he was a monster, all you could see was a benevolent angel."

They made it to the stairs now and Ruth motioned for Rachel to go through.

"I'm glad you left. I just wish you'd told him about Jed first. Maybe then.... maybe then he would have had a chance."

"Maybe. Maybe not. I sure as shit don't know what to think anymore."

"What do you mean?"

Ruth made an exasperated sound in the back of her throat.

"Nicolas was convinced I was having an affair with Patrick--with Copenhagen. I wasn't. But if he'd known about Jed...if I had told him, I was convinced he would not believe Jed was his. Nicolas cuts things from his life he deems tainted like we're all fucking weeds in a garden instead of human beings. He would not have let Jed live."

Rachel's lips parted in surprise.

"I--I had no idea..."

Guilt settled into her chest. All this time she'd spent blaming her mother...when the only person responsible here was Nicolas.

It'd been easier, she realized, to find someone nearby she could fling her pain and hurt at. Nicolas was hundreds of miles away where her fury and hatred couldn't reach him.

But...she'd been unfair.

"So, there you have it," Ruth grunted. "I was afraid of him. Still am."

She was used to her mother being crass--she'd been that way for as long as she could remember. But nothing could have prepared her for the gut-wrenching reaction her honesty would bring.

I was afraid of him.

"Mom, I--"

"Don't apologize. You think I haven't thought it too a hundred times over? That even if it was a small chance, if I'd told the truth, my boy would still be alive? Trust me, no one blames me more than I do. No one hates me more than I do--"

"Mom, I don't hate you--"

"You should. I never was honest with you. I never told you anything that would help you in this world, not really and... there is nothing I can do to change that at this point." Ruth fixed her with a long, steady look.

"I--I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Forgive me or don't, that's up to you. But just promise me one thing."

Rachel paused in the middle of the salmon-colored hallway and looked at her mother--really looked at her. At the lines that now pinched the sides of her eyes, at the gray hair and the haunted eyes. Though she wasn't exactly warm and contrite, there was a sincerity in her eyes that told Rachel she'd meant what she'd said.

No one hates me more than I do...

Oh, mom.

"What is it?"

"Promise me that you will never live a life of regrets like I have. That you will tell the truth, to yourself and to others, even when it hurts, even when it might kill you inside, you will tell the truth. Because living with this kind of regret can destroy everything."

Rachel nodded and gently touched her mother's arm. "I promise, mom. And look, it's going to take me a while to build a relationship with you. But I want to. You're my mother and I love you and...and I forgive you. For all of it."

"I'm trying, okay, Rachel? It's difficult for me to even have this conversation with you but I'm trying. You see that."

Rachel pulled her mother into a tight hug. "I see that. Thank you." She pulled away and smiled at her, water beginning to prick at her eyes.

"No, stop that. Don't you start crying."

Rachel nodded, swiping away at her tears, but not letting go of her mother just yet.

Ruth patted her shoulder and cleared her throat. "Can we be done here? This is as much as I can take."

Rachel laughed, a self-conscience and slightly awkward sound--much like their relationship. "Yes, mom, you can go. But please, talk to Copenhagen. Remind him that he's not my father. Or Jed's."

Her mother harrumphed and left her standing by the stairs that led onto the deck. Night had fallen while they'd been caught up at the bottom of the ship and she could see a strip of black sky, sprinkled with pinpoints of light.

She twisted back onto the hall, eyeing all the sets of doors stretching out before her.

That you will tell the truth, to yourself and to others, even when it hurts, even when it might kill you inside, you will tell the truth. Because living with this kind of regret can destroy everything.

It was time to tell the truth.