This is what he wanted, Elin thinks, why he didn’t kill Ronan on sight; he wanted to explain exactly what Ronan had done to his family. He wants Ronan to see him, see them.
She imagines all the moments that will have built to this point: one lie, every misstep, on top of another.
Elin steps closer. Caleb’s head whips around, his eyes deadened as they meet hers. She wonders how she didn’t see it before, the chilling vacancy in his face. Someone who had lost his connection to the world.
“I know you’d like to help him, but I’m afraid no can do.” Caleb shakes his head, almost sorrowfully. “You’ve disturbed us when I was just getting into my flow.” Behind him, heavy clouds hang low, making dark pockets in the sky.
“Caleb, this isn’t how you want this to play out, I know,” Elin says, raising her voice above the sounds of the storm. “There’s still time to stop this going any further.”
“But I want this to go further. This is what it’s all about. This moment.” Even this close, the end of his sentence is muffled by the wind.
Elin takes another step. “You might think that, but it’s not the answer to anything.”
“Stop.” Caleb jerks his arm upward. “Don’t come any closer.” He lowers the gun until it’s pointing directly at Ronan’s face, giving a light flick of the wrist as if in warning. Ronan flinches, starts to tremble, a barely audible noise coming from the back of his throat. “He needs to be punished, here, on the rock, where it all began.”
Keep him talking. “But what you’re doing here, it isn’t about Reaper’s Rock, is it?”
His eyes flash. “It is. It’s what’s happening here, right now, the reaper taking the souls of people who deserve to die.” Caleb glances down at Ronan. “People like him.”
Steadying her voice, Elin looks him in the eye. “You really believe that?”
He seems surprised by the question. Something flickers in his expression before he composes himself. “Of course I do. Look what happened at the school, the Creacher kids.”
“But it was your father who killed those teenagers on the course. There is no reaper. You know as well as I do that your father was delusional, killed those teenagers because of what happened to him at that school. But what you’ve done, it’s about something else.”
Caleb tips his head, watching her, as if he’s trying to calculate what she might know. A smirk, but it falters. “Go on, then, seeing as you’ve got it all worked out. Tell me what that is.”
“Revenge. Revenge for the fact that your father lost money to Ronan. Money he was going to use to buy the island, ensure its status as an SSSI, and revenge for the fact that Ronan went on to develop it himself, something that sent your father to an early grave.”
Caleb starts to speak, as if he’s about to push back, before he seems to crumple, shoulders rounding. His fingers come up to pinch the skin at the bridge of his nose as if to stop himself from crying. “That SSSI . . . it was supposed to be a fresh start for my father. Do you know what that school did to him?” He shakes his head. “It consumed him, turned him into a monster. He spent hours in that cave, shaping those stones, convincing himself he was some bloody reaper.” His voice wobbles. “But after he killed those kids, he tried to change, you know? He took the right meds, determined it wasn’t going to happen again.” He jerks his arm toward Ronan. “But he trampled all over that by taking my father’s money.”
Ronan’s eyes flicker open. “A tip, that’s all it was.” His voice is low, muffled by pain. Despite his protestation, it’s clear that he’s lying. Like a cloud weighing heavy above him, she can see it: shame. Etched into every part of his face. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
Caleb’s mouth drops open, incredulous. “Even now, you’re lying. The company that ran the scheme, you were behind it. I found out. All you’ve ever done, Delaney, is take. You destroyed my father. Financially. Mentally. Until he couldn’t take it anymore, until he . . .”
The words stop him in his tracks, the hand clamped around the gun starting to tremble, making the barrel move up and down. His eyes are smarting when he looks at her, and Elin can see it marked in them: grief. Grief and pain, and utter bewilderment—as if he’s looking at the world and not understanding it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” Ronan says, his face ashen. He sucks in a gaspy breath, clutching his side. “I never wanted anything like that to happen.”