Page 48 of These Shattered Memories

Chapter Thirty-One: Rowan

I walk through the twisting basement halls of the Serpentine.

The air down here is cooler, stale, far removed from the modern sleek glass and metal upstairs.

My father’s accommodations are tucked at the end of a dimly lit hallway, past guards with rifles in hand, who bow their chins or nod when I walk past them.

We’ve kept my father here since The Choosing and his conditions are far nicer than what Key had in Sying. It’s more than he deserves.

The guards have made a make-shift cell: a single cot and a wooden table and chair. It almost looks domestic.

My father sits on the cot, dressed in grey, wrinkled cotton pants and a t-shirt.

He’s unharmed—a little dishevelled, but that means Xander hasn’t gotten to him yet.

His silver hair is dull, his eyes lacking their usually vibrant colour.

I think I can count the number of times I’ve seen him without a suit.

Seeing him like this, stripped of his power suit and expensive watch feels … wrong.

When I step into the room, he gives me a curious look, a smile dancing on his lips. “Hello, Son.” His voice is deceptively warm.

“Hello, Father.” The word feels like ash on my tongue. He’s not my father—not anymore. We may share blood, but that’s where the connection ends. He has my mother’s blood on his hands, and nothing will ever be the same because of it.

“Son.” He nods.

The air smells faintly of disinfectant, the buzz of the lights filling the space like the hum of an insect too close to the ear. My eyes fall on the lone chair, and I pull it closer to me. It scrapes on the floor, cutting through the strange silence.

“Tell me about Haze,” I say, sitting across from him. “Why did you do it when you knew it was going to kill people?

He tilts his head, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Thinking of selling it yourself?”

I shake my head. “You know I have no interest in murdering kids.”

He barks out a laugh, sharp and bitter. “Oh, how, righteous.”

My mind travels back to the day I said something similar to Alex and for a moment I am shaken by how much has changed.

My smile is thin. “Far from it, but I would still like to know.”

He leans back on his hands, watching me carefully.

“Tell me, Rowan, how much longer do you think you have? The Scarlet Ravens will be gearing up for war to claim more territory across the river. I’ve kept them at bay for years, but now, I’m not sure they’ll hold off.

Especially when they think The Snake killed one of theirs. ”

“So, you killed Daniel and Trist?”

He shrugs, casual and careless. “When I caught wind of what you’d done to Key, I knew it was only a matter of time before you found the rest of them. I had to get rid of the ones who were most likely to talk.”

My jaw tightens. “There are more, aren’t there?”

“Of course there are,” he laughs like I’m an idiot for asking him that.

“Haze is unstable. Why sell it?” I ask. “You could have found another drug.”

He watches me closely before shrugging. “Every drug kills to some extent. This one is just a little more effective in its elimination. Everyone knows the risks.”

I hate how unaffected he is by it. I hate that he doesn’t care. The Snake may not be a paragon for good, but we do not kill carelessly. “You’re sick.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m strong and you have a problem on your hands. A new Head with shaky loyalty is not a good combination.”

Nothing he’s saying is new to me, but my jaw ticks. I can’t just cut the head off this snake; I need to chop it into pieces and burn it.

“You think so?” I ask my father.

“Moreau— everyone —sees a weakness in you. Your mother saw it too. You failed at the first cop who waved his ass in the air to get your attention. You’re far too young, too inexperienced. It will ruin you.”

I grit my teeth. I’m getting really tired of everyone bringing up Alex. He’s not my weakness. On the contrary, he’s everything that makes me good—everything that will make me great . I want to tell him that too, but the less my father knows about Alex, the better.

“She was young too,” I say instead.

“You’re less of a man than she was.”

My father has always known where to hit, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of reacting. “So, you would have made a better Head? I may be less of a man than she was, but The Keepers still chose me.”

He snorts, shaking his head. “They won’t always choose you.”

“I don’t think I’ll take advice from a man who couldn’t carry out a proper coup. But thank you anyway.”

His laugh is sharp, echoing off the walls. “You always need soldiers on your side,” he says, leaning forward. “You think they’re loyal to you? To Xander? My men are still within your ranks, Rowan, and they won’t stand with you.”

I stiffen, the weight of his words settling over me.

He’s right. If he made it this far, it means his influence had taken root.

I can’t bury my head in the sand and ignore that.

It would be na?ve to not realise a part of The Snake, and perhaps a large one, supports my father and not me. That’s concerning.

“Why did you kill her?” I ask, my voice quiet now. I think I know the answer, but I still want to hear it from him.

His expression stays grounded. “She was getting old. Too set in her ways. The Snake was going to fall apart in her care.” He says it so casually, like he’s talking about disposing of an outdated piece of furniture. My stomach twists.

“You never deserved her,” I tell him.

Her face flashes before my own—her cutting look, her severe expression.

I feel a strange wave of grief wash over me, raw and unrelenting.

It comes so suddenly it’s almost blinding.

I shake my head. I need to get out of here.

There is nothing that my father can tell me that will change anything.

At the end of the day, I get to walk out of here and he doesn’t.

“Goodbye, Jonathan.” I stand from my chair.

He smirks. “You think this is the end?”

“No,” I admit, turning toward the door. “But it is the end for you.”

“You should be thanking me!” he calls after me. “Without me, your mother would still be alive, and she would have never chosen you!”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but I don’t stop to look back at him. I walk out of his makeshift cell, a guard shutting the door and locking it behind me.

The echo of his voice clings to me

She never would have chosen you .

I shake my head, trying to dispel the lingering doubt. He’s trying to get into my head, to make me question myself. But the truth is, he’s not entirely wrong. My mother didn’t trust me. She didn’t believe I was ready.

Still, at the end of the day, I’m alive and she is not.

When I emerge into the upper levels of the building, the dim fluorescent light of the underbelly gives way to the golden glow of chandeliers. The air is warmer here, filled with the faint scent of sandalwood and polished wood. It should feel like a reprieve, but it doesn’t.

Alex is waiting for me at the end of the hallway, leaning against the doorframe of my office. Two weeks ago, it was my mother’s office.

He straightens as soon as he sees me, concern flickering in his eyes.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

“About as well as expected,” I say, brushing past him into the office. He follows, shutting the door behind him.

I move to the window, staring out at the rain-soaked streets of Senna. The Serpentine faces south to the river, The Snake’s territory vast. Across the bridge lies Canning and The Scarlet Ravens. I’ll have to worry about them too now.

I take in a sharp breath, turning to find Alex, who is looking at me with those warm eyes that leave me floundering.

I like that he’s here, that even though I feel unbalanced after seeing my father, everything still feels like it will work out.

Figuring this all out won’t be easy, but with him, I think I can do it.

“He said some things,” I begin.

“About Haze?” Alex asks.

“Yes, but also about The Scarlet Ravens and our men’s loyalty. It looks like the peace treaty won’t last forever.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he crosses the room, coming around to my side perching on the edge of the teak desk. I can’t help it. I move closer to him like a moth to a flame and he lets me, opening up his legs so I can slot in between them.

He gazes up at me. “You have to take whatever he says with a grain of salt. He’s trying to get into your head.”

I nod. “I know, but I think he’s telling the truth, only because he’s smug enough to think I can’t do this.”

“He’s wrong,” he says, his voice not wavering and his eyes trained on me. “This is what you were born for, Rowan. No one else can say that.”

I’m compelled to believe him, but as reassuring as his confidence is, I know there is more to come. Being chosen as Head of The Snake was one thing. Keeping that position is another.

“I don’t know who to trust,” I say, more to myself than to him.

He smiles warmly. “Let’s start small. You have me and your brothers. We’ll work our way up from there.”

His hand finds mine, grounding me. His words settle something in me. The coiled tension eases, just slightly.

“I love you,” I say quietly.

He smiles, a small, warm thing that feels like the first light after a storm. “I love you too.”

I grin. “Come with me,” I say, a buzz of excitement firing up on skin.

He frowns, confused. “Where?”

“You’ll see,” I say, offering my hand.

He takes it without hesitation, and I feel the last of the weight in my chest lift.

We stand in an empty space that sits under a posh Queen’s Park convenience store a few blocks away from The Serpentine. It was once a record store and bar, but it closed down a year ago according to the owner.

The space smells of dust and disuse. Exposed brick walls and dim golden light give the basement an oddly cozy feel, despite its emptiness. The floors are a splintered and termite mauled hardwood that will definitely require some TLC.

I look at both Alex and Halle who has joined us after I had a driver pick her up. They stare at me blankly. “Why are we standing in a dusty basement?” Halle asks me.

I smile. “It’s yours.”

Alex frowns. “What do you mean ‘it’s yours’ ?”

I shrug. “Exactly that,” I tell him. “Remember when I asked you what you’d do if it wasn’t for the OCU?”

He nods. “Yeah…?” and then he trails, realisation dawning on him. “No way,” he breathes, understanding dawning over his eyes. “Rowan, please tell me you didn’t—”

“What’s going on?” Halle asks, looking between us.

Alex turns to her. “Rowan bought this,” he says simply. “For us.”

“What?” she asks, looking between us before turning to Alex fully. “Alex, what the hell is he talking about?”

“I might have told him about our deal to open a bar one day?” He phrases it like a question.

Halle’s eyes go impossibly wide. “You told him about Serene Tiger?”

Alex winces and nods.

“No way,” she deadpans, turning to me. When she realises I’m not joking, those eyes widen again. I’m terrified they might pop out. “Wait, so, this place, it’s ours?”

“As of yesterday, yes. Serene Tiger is a go,” I say. “If you want it, of course.”

“Of course we do!” she shouts. “Oh my God. This is amazing! Thank you. I can’t begin to…” she continues rambling, but I can only focus on Alex.

He’s looking at me carefully, a shy smile dancing on his lips. Under the golden lights of the old record store, his eyes glint and I’m caught by him all over again. I’d give him the world if he even hinted at wanting it. I’d give him anything.

“You didn’t have to do this,” he says softly.

I step closer, brushing my fingers against his. “I wanted to,” I say simply. “I want you to have something that’s yours. I want you to have everything you want.”

For a moment, the world shrinks to just the two of us, the weight of everything else fading away.

In the distance I can still hear Halle speaking but all I can see is the conflict in Alex’s eyes.

I can tell he wants to tell me this is too much, but when he looks at Halle who is exploring the space with that awestruck expression, he swallows whatever he had to say down.

He turns back to me. “Thank you.” It’s two simple words, but I can read everything else he wants to say between them.

“We need to have a copper sink in here!” Halle shouts.

Alex laughs, shaking his head. “Those are impractical.”

“Fuck practicality, Alex,” she all but screams. “Serene Tiger is real!”

He nods, still smiling. “Serene Tiger is real,” he repeats, his eyes covering the entire space in a slow sweep. As he says those words, I can tell he fully believes them, and I couldn’t be happier.