Chapter 64: The Birthday Gala: I hate them
Kayden
This was the worst event I had ever been in in years. If it weren’t for Rhys—if it weren’t for the coach who practically forced us to attend this circus—I wouldn’t have stepped foot in this place.
It was a disaster from the moment the first string of the orchestra played. It made me see exactly what kind of cage Rhys lived in, and more than that, it reminded me of how cruel and pathetic my birth mother truly was.
Watching Linda sit there, preening in her diamonds and lying, made my stomach turn. She was a master of performance, but now I knew the rot underneath, and it was the same rot in Richard and Rami.
They weren’t a family, but just a bunch of predators with an expensive surname. The engagement announcement and the way Rhys had reacted made me realize that he had no idea what was happening; he was just hearing it for the first time.
I couldn’t stay at that table a second longer while they were faking their laughter with their eyes on me.
"Excuse me," I muttered, pushing my chair back. "I need to use the restroom," I lied, and walked away.
I needed to find Rhys.
My thoughts were spiraling and every instinct was screaming that he was in trouble.
As I moved through the crowd, the blue Borealis lights made my eyes turn for a second until I could see clearly again. I ran into Miller near the marble pillars. He looked just as tense as I felt, his fingers drumming against the side of his glass.
"Kayden," Miller whispered, catching my arm. "Hey, where are you going?"
"I need to find Rhys. Have you seen him?"
Miller nodded, "He went that way, " he pointed to the left side of the hall, and then leaned in closer to ensure no one else could hear as he spoke. "Alright, just be careful of Richard... he is not a nice man."
"I know," I responded, and started to walk away in search of Rhys.
A waiter passed by with a silver tray. I reached out and took a glass of champagne, hoping the cold liquid would steady my nerves.
"Thank you," I said. I drank from the first glass and squeezed my face. It tasted weird and metallic, which made me wonder what I had taken, but at least it didn’t burn my throat.
I took another glass before continuing down the hall and slowly took a long sip from it, my eyes darting for any sign of them until I saw a velvet curtain and stepped through it.
I started walking down the corridor, then stopped as a voice broke through, filled with rage.
"Let me be! I am done being your puppet, and you know what? This stupid party sucks. I shouldn’t have come at all!"
It came from Rhys.
My heart jumped as I held onto the glass tightly, staring toward the corner.
Then I saw him emerging, his head lowered as if he were trying to hide the wreckage of his soul. Then he looked up and his eyes met mine, and the first thing I saw was the cut on the side of his lips and the blood trailing down his chin.
"Rhys," I called out as I took a step towards him. "Rhys, what the hell happened to you?"
Rhys said nothing and just walked past me, moving amongst the crowd as he walked back toward the main hall. He even avoided Miller, who was trying to speak to him.
I went after him and almost got stopped by Miller, but I just waved dismissively at him, hoping he understood that I couldn’t speak yet.
I followed Rhys down the hallway calling his name, but got no response. He walked outside the building, and when I thought he was going to head towards the car, he took a left turn and I followed him.
The cool night air hit my face as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to settle the fire in my chest. I followed him through the shadows of the estate until we reached the back of the building, and Rhys finally stopped.
He didn’t turn around as he spoke. "Leave me alone, Kayden," he snapped. "Stop following me."
"I’m not leaving you like this."
He turned around then, his eyes wild and bloodshot under the dim moonlight. "What is your problem? I said I don’t want you here! If you want to go home, go! Find the chauffeur, tell him to take you back to the city. Take a ride, call a cab, I don’t care! Just get out of here!"
"I am not leaving you alone in this state," I stepped closer, my hands open in front of me, the champagne still in my left hand. "Rhys, look at what happened. You’re bleeding—"
"Don’t you understand me?!" Rhys suddenly yelled, clapping his hands together. He stepped back, shaking his head violently. "I am not in the mood to talk to you! I can’t do this right now, Kayden! Just... go!" He turned his back to me again, his head dropping into his hands.
He looked like he was vibrating with the effort to keep himself from completely shattering.
I knew he wanted to push me away because he was ashamed, because his father had treated him badly and he didn’t want me to see through his cracks, but I couldn’t leave him like that.
I moved silently until I was right behind him. I didn’t give him space to push me away again. I reached out and wrapped my arms around his waist, pulling his back flush against my chest, and held him tight.
"I understand you, Rhys. I truly do."
For a second, the world went completely still.
Rhys stayed rigid, his muscles coiled so tight they were about to snap. I thought he might shove me off, might scream again, but then I felt it—the first shudder, followed by a broken sound.
Rhys turned around and collapsed back into me, his weight leaning heavily against my chest as he let out a gut-wrenching sob.
He lowered his head and placed it on my shoulder, hiding his face in the crook of my neck.
The force of his sobs shook both of our bodies, but I didn’t care as I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him tightly.
"Why..." he sniffled. "I hate them," he cried out between heaving breaths, his voice muffled against my skin. "I hate this house... I hate every single one of them, Kayden..."
I felt the hot dampness of his tears soaking into my skin, felt his fingers digging into my shoulders so hard that they bruised.
This was Rhys Calder, one of the best hockey players in the country, but right now, he was just a boy fighting his outer and inner demons.
"It’s okay," I whispered, though the words felt useless against the weight of his agony. Somehow I had to console him.
I dropped the glass to the ground and moved my hand to the back of his head, pulling him deeper into the hug. "I’ve got you, Rhys. I’ve got you."