Chapter 46

Trigger Warning: This chapter (toward the end) includes themes of child abuse and may be distressing to some readers. Please read with caution or skip if needed.

“It wasn’t the pain that changed me.
It was what came after.
The moment I realized…
I could end it.“

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Two days later…

Nathan’s POV

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

Out of all the places in this country, I didn’t plan to come here, not at all, but it just…sort of happened.

After Aylin had her girls’ trip with Lilly, I brought her to England. I showed her around yesterday, took her to all of my favorite places, and tonight, we were supposed to have our double—or triple, I guess—date with Lilly and that other friend of hers, Sandra, Susan, or whatever, before we return home.

That wasn’t the original plan either, but when I texted Lilly the other day, stirring chaos per usual, she didn’t object, said it was a good idea, that she’d slightly missed this city, and that she also wanted to show Chase around, considering every other time they were here, it was full of tragedy.

I am here, in this place, because of one of those…tragedies.

Funny how that works.

Rain fell slowly, drop after drop, seeping into my clothes, clinging to my hair like it had a personal vendetta against me. I huffed out a breath and tilted my head back, glaring at the grey sky. I loved my country, but goddman it with this moody weather.

I dragged my gaze back down and kept walking, my shoes pressing into wet ground till I reached that one spot in exact. I looked at it, then around, checking for people, for anyone else who found their way here, but it was empty, a ghost town at best, no one else but me.

“So, I’ve recently learned this new thing where you talk to stone and soil and pretend the other person hears you,” I muttered, pushing my hands into my pockets. “Sounds a bit insane, if you ask me, but you can’t ask me…well, considering,” I waved vaguely at the headstone, “you know.”

Silence swallowed the rest as I searched for useless words.

It stretched…longer than it should’ve.

One second.

Two.

Three.

Nothing.

“Right,” I grumbled. “Great conversation so far.”

My tongue pressed against the inside of my cheek as I exhaled through my nose, the air around me sharp, cold, and irritating in a way I couldn’t place.

I lowered myself slowly, crouching in front of the headstone, “You know that I didn’t kill you, right?” I mumbled as my eyes dragged over his name, letter by letter. “They keep saying that I did it, everyone does, actually. It’s almost impressive how consistent they are.”

I shook my head, “Wrong, though…I didn’t even want you dead, not really.”

I rolled my shoulders, like I could shake off this weird, heavy weight clinging to me.

“I think I just…” I exhaled slowly, “…placed you somewhere you weren’t supposed to be, you know, the whole…in the wrong place, at the wrong time kind of thing.”

Story of my life, really.

“Besides, I kind of blame you,” I shot out, glaring at the stone, “No one told you to play hero and try to save Lilly, no one was going to hurt her anyway, but then again, you always had a very soft spot for her,” I rolled my eyes, “For some unknown, deeply questionable reason.”

Silence pressed back, unhelpful as ever.

I huffed out a breath, dragging a hand through my damp hair, pushing it back like I could organize my thoughts the same way.

Didn’t work.

“Seriously, mate, the love triangle turned into a whole goddamn pentagon at that point,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“She is with Chase now, in case you were wondering, they’re just so disgusting together, you wouldn’t have liked it either,” I sighed, “But at least that keeps him occupied and away from me and what’s mine, so I won’t complain much.”

When silence filled the space again, and words failed me yet again, I leaned back slightly, tilting my head up toward the sky, letting the rain hit my face, slide down without resistance.

Huh.

I do run out of words after all…didn’t think that was in my skill set. Very rare, but possible, apparently.

The cold air filled my lungs, bruising, scraping something raw inside my chest.

What’s with this…weird feeling today? Sitting too high in my chest, too quiet to name, too loud to ignore, like it knows something I don’t yet. Don’t like it. Not one bit. I’d like to unsubscribe immediately, if possible. Please and thank you.

“I used to think that I would die before anyone else did, so I’m not entirely sure how to deal with this…death thing,” I added, a humorless breath slipping out.

That was always the plan.

The expectation.

The natural order of things.

Yesterday, for some reason, when I checked the date, I did the math without meaning to.

Over a year.

It’s been over a year since Noah died.

It felt almost…not real.

“Doesn’t feel like a year,” I murmured, more to the air than anything else.

Doesn’t feel like anything at all. That’s the problem.

My eyes flickered back to the headstone, slower this time, like I was forcing myself to look properly, to register it, to acknowledge that my actions don’t just dissolve after I walk away from them.

That they linger.

They spread.

They stay.

I always thought they didn’t. Thought I could move through this world like a match, could strike, burn, leave nothing behind but smoke. Consequences be damned. I could set things on fire, people, lives…watch them twist, collapse, and walk away untouched. That’s the lie, isn’t it?

Because now it feels like something started moving the moment I touched it.

A shift I didn’t expect, didn’t care to see. A line of dominoes I knocked over without bothering to follow where they’d fall.

One hitting the next, quiet at first, then faster, unstoppable, until the pattern curves, until it circles back, until the last one doesn’t fall away from me…but into me.

I leaned forward slightly, my hand moving before I fully decided to let it, fingers brushing against the cold edge of the stone, my jaw clenching as I fought this eerie feeling tightening at the top of my chest.

“Also, I learned this other thing where you…apologize when you mess up. Yeah, I know, shocking,” I added, a faint, crooked smile tugging at my lips. “Apparently, I’m going through some kind of software update, these new emotions being installed without my consent. You’d be devastated to witness it. Might even call it character development…borderline catastrophic.”

You see, Noah and I had a very…strange dynamic, if I’m being generous about it. I did antagonize him and threaten him with everything so he could do my bidding, be my little spy, my eyes and ears where I couldn’t be.

I made his life insufferable, not even going to pretend otherwise, but there were moments where we clicked.

I think—if I dig deep enough, which I usually avoid—I had a very small soft spot for him, and in return, he had an equally pathetic, almost negligible one for me too, since I saved his life on the night of the explosion.

God…that’s the thing I hate most about myself. Not the violence, not the chaos, not even the way I ruin things just to see how they fall apart.

No, it’s my memory. My brain doesn’t forget a single thing. It catalogs, archives, and preserves everything like it’s evidence waiting to be used against me. Every face, every word, and every goddamn unnecessary detail. It’s a fucking curse.

Sometimes, I envied Aylin for her ability to forget and erase things.

I’d kill to have that.

I’d erase the last thirty years of my life without a second thought, no wait…I’d keep this last year only.

The rest?

Burn it.

My fingers pressed slightly harder against the stone, grounding, or maybe testing if it was even real.

“I am sorry, Noah,” I muttered, “I shouldn’t have brought you into my mess. In another, less cruel version of this, you’d still be alive.”

That was the moment when I felt the sudden shift in the air, the raindrops no longer falling, stepping back to make room for something heavier. A different kind of storm, I guess.

I heard the low crunching of grass before the shadow hovered too near. I turned my head, lifting it, my eyes falling on none other than Emma.

She looked…different today, less put together, less sharp, less lethal, like someone had peeled away all the sharp edges she usually wears and left something unfinished underneath.

Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, not a single trace of makeup on her face, which made it softer in a way that didn’t suit her…took the weapon out of it, or maybe just hid it better.

A black coat fell over her frame, long enough to swallow her shape, reaching down to her knees. She was in boots, and not in heels. That, more than anything, felt wrong.

Emma doesn’t lower herself to the ground; she rises above it, always did.

Yet here she was, standing in the mud with the rest of us.

Human…almost.

The second she saw me, though, the fire in her eyes roared, burned so loud it could’ve brought an entire empire to its knees and left nothing but ash where they once stood.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice scraped against her throat, hoarse and rough. She didn’t give me time to answer because she lunged, her fingers curled over the lapels of my jacket, yanking me up and pushing me back, slamming me against the tree.

The bark bit into my spine, digging in deep enough to hurt.

Her grip didn’t loosen. If anything, it tightened, “I said what the fuck are you doing here?” Her voice echoed, slamming into the open space, bouncing off the cold air and coming back twice as loud, twice as wrong.

Her face was closer now. Dark green eyes blazing, her breath uneven, something wild flickering beneath the rage, something unstable.

“Isn’t it enough…isn’t it enough that you’re everywhere?” she snapped, her grip jerking me again, harder this time. “You don’t get to be here, you don’t have any right to…you are not allowed in here! I’d fucking kill you, Nathan. Answer me, why are you here?”

Again, I didn’t have…words.

I didn’t have anything. No sharp comeback, and no calculated cruelty.

I couldn’t say something that would trigger her further, couldn’t push, couldn’t press where it hurts. For some reason, I didn’t want to hurt her more, so what should I even say?

My jaw tightened slightly as I just looked at her, silent in a way that didn’t suit me, something glitching, misfiring, rewiring in all the wrong places.

Despite all of my emotional updates, I still lacked a lot…I couldn’t feel what I’m supposed to feel, couldn’t say what a normal person would say.

“Why aren’t you answering me?” Her voice cracked through the air, “Say something!”

Her words were followed by a suppressed groan before she swung her fist, and all I felt was my head whip to the side, brutally. Pain bloomed across my cheek, fucking exploded, and metal flooded my mouth.

Blood.

Fucking hell.

Before I could recover, her fingers grasped my hair, tightening over the strands, yanking my head back and closer, so she’d look at me, force me to look at her.

Usually, this is where something in me would snap. Violence answering violence. I’d be enraged that someone was trying to get the upper hand on me, attack me, but now, I wasn’t. Everything felt earned, for some reason.

My tongue pressed against the inside of my cheek, feeling the sting, tasting the blood.

I could fight back, easily, push her off, pin her down, end this in seconds…or drag it out, make it interesting. A fight between us would be…fun, messy, unpredictable. A disaster of epic proportions.

I almost want to see it, god, just the two of us, no rules, no restraint, just raw violence to see who’s left standing at the end.

I’m not entirely sure it’d be me.

That thought should bother me.

It doesn’t.

The alphabet failed me once more as words refused to form.

A groan tore out of her chest at my silence, and with one hand still pinning me to the tree, the other left my hair, slipping beneath her coat, pulling her gun out. The barrel pressed beneath my chin, lifting it just enough to force my head back, the wood digging into my skull.

“You ruined it…you fucking ruined it, you ruined everything,” she seethed, her voice breaking around the edges, “You just—” she exhaled sharply, like she couldn’t even form the rest, “You weren’t supposed to be here…”

The redness in her eyes multiplied, more prominent, spreading, like she was one second away from breaking apart, holding herself together by force alone. I think she came here to fall apart in peace, but found me instead. I ruin things like that.

How often does she come here, though?

“I am sorry,” I found myself saying, whispering…without thinking.

If possible, my words added gasoline to the fire. Her eyes burned me, fucking hell, I almost winced. How could her eyes be so goddamn expressive and loud like that?

She pulled the gun back, only to flip it in her hand with practiced ease, before the grip slammed against my temple with brute force. A sharp crack of pain burst through my skull, so bright and disorienting.

My vision tilted for half a second.

“What will your fucking sorry do to me now, huh?” she grated out, edging closer, her presence swallowing whatever space was left between us. Her breath hit my skin as her mouth hovered near my ear. “Will it bring him back?“

“Neither would killing me,” I muttered, turning my head just enough to face her again, feeling the blood trickle down from my temple.

She shook her head, “Which is why I don’t want you dead,” she said, and with the same hand holding the gun, she fisted my collar tighter, dragging me an inch closer, needing me to feel every word.

“No, death is mercy…you know what I want? I want you to feel exactly what I am feeling right now, what I felt for this past year. I want you to suffer, not all at once. No, that’d be too easy for you. I want it to rot you from the inside out. I want you to lose the thing you care about the most.”

My jaw shifted slightly.

“I want you to watch it slip through your fingers, piece by piece…until there’s nothing left for you to hold onto. I want you to feel it before it’s even gone,” she grated out through clenched teeth, “that moment where you know you’re losing it…and you can’t stop it.”

Could that be what I’ve been feeling since I woke up? That quiet, suffocating weight sitting on my chest…is that it?

“I want you to reach for it,” she went on, “and find nothing but air. I want it to haunt you before it happens…while it’s happening…and after it’s gone.”

Her eyes darkened further, something almost hollow flickering beneath the fire, every word of hers sharper than any blade that’s ever been in me.

“I want you to wake up with it,” she added, “go to sleep with it, carry it like it’s stitched into your ribs. I want you to beg for it to stop, and I want it to keep going forever. I want you to blame only yourself for it, and I want you to remember every second of it…just the way I do.”

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Emma’s words haunted me throughout the day, sat somewhere in the back of my head, and echoed loudly, layering over that already irritating pressure sitting in my chest. Today wasn’t my best day, to say the least.

I’ve been rather silent, less hyper than usual, my thoughts tumbling over one another.

What do you call this thing? I needed to get rid of it for fuck’s sake, it’s messing with me all wrong.

Aylin’s eyes widened when she saw the blood on my face. She asked, pushed, pressed, but I kept brushing it off. When she realized she wasn’t getting anything out of me, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing before she huffed and puffed, then went to get ready.

I don’t know how the rest of the day passed. My body kept moving out of habit while my head lagged a step behind, trying to catch up to something. By the time I actually registered anything properly again, it was already night. We were at the restaurant. Lights too warm, voices too loud.

Everything, too normal.

Across from us, Lilly sat with her dear boyfriend, two chairs empty next to them, waiting for…Sarah and her fiancé, I guess.

Considering I wasn’t speaking much, Lilly hasn’t shut up since we arrived, talking, asking, filling every gap I usually dominate. Chase flashed me one glare when he first got here, then went into acting totally unbothered, focusing on Lilly and her ramblings.

Aylin indulged her every now and then, smiling softly, but she, too, had this tension in her shoulders…one I’ve probably caused with my out-of-character behaviour.

My eyes traced her face out of habit, then dragged lower to her shoulders, to the way that white wool shirt hugged her like it had no business being that soft on her. Paired with that short beige skirt and those long white boots…god, sometimes I think she wears skirts on purpose, for me.

Because she knows—she has to know—what it does to me, how easily I can take one look and build an entire world out of it, one that ends with her breathless and wrapped up in my arms.

She did something to her hair that made it look prettier, twirling at the ends, begging me to wrap it in my fist and pull her closer. Her face had just enough makeup to highlight what’s already there, well, she didn’t need it, anyway.

I almost facepalmed when it hit me that I hadn’t given her the necklace I’d bought for her yesterday. I am really not well today. I don’t forget things, especially not things meant for her.

I leaned closer, my hand brushing her thigh as I dipped my head, pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, just below her chin, “You look breathtaking,” I murmured, low enough for only her to hear.

She turned her face toward me, the top of her cheeks warming instantly, like I don’t tell her things like that all the time, like it still catches her off guard.

Her eyes lit up, so soft and bright, and her lips curved just enough to let something in my chest loosen. I breathed. I should focus on this, on her, on the moment. Nothing is going to happen. Nothing will happen. I won’t let it happen.

She brought her hand, her fingers brushed the side of my hair, fixing a few strands out of order, “What’s wrong?” she whispered, her head tilting in worry, “Did something happen? I’m really not used to you being so…non-hyperverbal.”

I shook my head, “My head is just all over the place, but nothing is wrong,” I stroked her thigh soothingly, sucking in enough oxygen, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you once we get back,” I added with a wink, trying to slip back into my usual self, “You’ll be begging me to shut up…among other things.”

She smiled back knowingly and leaned into me, just in time for the other couple to join us.

“So sorry we were late, sorry,” the Sandy person rushed out, dropping into the chair like she’d been sprinting here.

The guy next to her, her fiancé, I assume, “She took forever to get ready,” he said, flashing us an apologetic look before sitting down.

She whipped her head and narrowed her eyes, “Yeah, sure, as if you didn’t stay an hour shaving and making a mess—”

He covered her face with his whole hand, muffling the rest of her words before he pulled her closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s order, quick, we need to feed her before she starts attacking everyone—”

He was cut off when she bit his hand.

He winced, pulling his hand back with a horrified look, “See? Told you,” he muttered, shaking his head in terror before scanning the place for a waiter, “We need food, immediately, before she escalates.”

Lilly chuckled before jumping in, “You guys know Nathan, right?” She asked, then started the introduction anyway, “Nathan, you already know Sally, and this is Conner.” She pointed at him, “We all went to the same school; the guys were older by a year, but we used to hang out together all the time.”

Conner looked at me and nodded in acknowledgment, extending his hand forward, “Yeah, heard so much about you.” He said.

“All things interesting, I hope,” I replied evenly as I shook his hand.

He chuckled, adding playfully, “Well, all bad things, considering—” his words were followed by a low groan, and his eyes flickered to…Sophie, “What the hell...why did you kick me?” He grumbled at her.

She hissed something at him, to which he huffed, then his eyes flickered from her to Aylin. He smiled and waved his hand, “Hey, stranger, long time no see.”

Aylin smiled back warmly, “Hey, congrats on the engagement, by the way,” She said, and they delved into a sort of catch-up conversation. I eyed the guy, studying him, dissecting, trying to see where to place him on my list, whether he was harmless or not.

Doubt it.

No one is harmless when it comes to her.

My jaw tightened just slightly. I hated this part, the one where I’m reminded she had this whole life before me. People, memories, versions of her that existed without me in them. I know I couldn’t have been there, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“Oh my god, I just realized this is the first time we are all together in the same place since like…high school,” Lilly added in astonishment. “It’s only missing Zack,” she went on, her eyes flickering to me. “Zack is Chase’s cousin. He used to hang out with us, too, but we don’t like him anymore.”

Chase just shook his head at her with a smile, like this is his life now.

He pulled her closer, his hand moving over her arm as he said something. I usually tone him out automatically since his words rarely qualify as relevant.

The whole reason I even asked Lilly for this union was so I could annoy him a bit, you know, trigger him and all, my way to take revenge. Yeah, call the petty police, I’ll sign the reports myself.

The thing is, I hated him even more the second a very inconvenient realization hit me, that my princess would’ve easily said yes to him, but would ask for more time from me.

She didn’t admit it out loud, but I knew it. That was the type of relationship they had. She gave him everything. He gave her nothing. He stayed distant, while she…stayed. He taught her how to be careful, guarded, and measured, thereby making my life complicated.

Now, I deal with the aftermath of that. Now, I’m ready to give her everything, even if I get nothing in return…which is, objectively speaking, a terrible decision. Yes, I’m aware. No, I’m not fixing it.

Lilly flashed her pathetic excuse of a boyfriend a sheepish smile before turning right back to rambling.

“So, Nathan, look, it went like this,” she resumed, a very suspicious glint in her eyes as she pointed at…Susan. “Back in high school, Sally used to have a crush on Conner, and Con—”

Conner’s head whipped to his girl, “You did?” His eyes widened, “I didn’t know about that.”

Susan shot Lilly a glare, “Lilly!” She whined.

Lilly waved her off, “So, Sally used to have a crush on Conner, and Conner had a crush on Aylin, and Aylin on Chase, and Chase on me, and me on Zack,” she rattled off, then scoffed, shaking her head. “It was a whole full-blown chain reaction.”

Wait…what?

“Hold on, who had a crush on Aylin?” I asked, my gaze sliding back to the second fucker. Told you no one was fucking harmless.

Conner’s eyebrow raised, “Hey, dude, we were kids,” He said, as if that canceled it out. “Besides, I’m getting married in a couple of months,” he added, throwing an arm around Samantha, smiling at her, “to this very pretty lady.”

Bold of him to assume he’ll still be alive for that.

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table, my attention shifting to her. “Hey, you, Susan,” I said.

Her brows pulled together. She glanced behind her, then back at me, pointing to herself in question, and I nodded.

“It’s Sally,” she corrected.

“Yeah, whatever,” I grumbled, “Listen, if you love him and want him to stay alive long enough to marry you,” I pointed at her soon-to-be-ex fiancé, “you might want to keep him at a safe distance from me.”

She shot me a glare, and before I could say more, Aylin’s hand curled over my sleeve and tugged me back, “Hey, don’t threaten my friends,” She said in her adorably stern voice, making me direct my glare to her.

Lilly went back to talking more nonsense with them, and I focused on Aylin, narrowing my eyes at her, “How many more of your boyfriends am I going to have to meet?” I grumbled.

She let out a long sigh, glaring at me like I was the problem here. “Don’t be ridiculous, nothing ever happened.”

I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms over my chest, more to restrain myself from punching someone. This sucks.

My already bad day seems to only get worse.

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Aylin’s POV

Something is very wrong, seriously not right with Nathan today.

I’ve never seen him go this long without talking. He kept quiet for most of the night, only throwing a glare here and there at Chase and Conner like that somehow counted as participation.

I swear, sometimes he’s impossible.

The worst part…I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him, because that’s the thing about Nathan, he never really lets me in.

Not fully.

I blinked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, fingers brushing over my hair, fixing a strand that didn’t need fixing…just stalling as I gathered my messy thoughts.

I exhaled softly, smoothing my skirt before turning and walking out, ready to drag Nathan out of here and figure this whole thing out, but before I could cross the hallway back to our table, my eyes found him.

He was standing a few steps away, close enough to the bathrooms that it looked like he was about to come after me or something, but…he wasn’t alone.

No, a…girl stood in front of him.

They were talking, or more like she was. Smiling, her features so comfortable, the kind of comfortable that doesn’t come from five minutes of small talk.

The kind that knows him.

I slowed down without meaning to, my steps quieter, my attention fixed on them longer than it should’ve been.

My gaze flickered over her quickly, taking in the details without fully realizing it, her posture, the familiar gleam in her eyes, the ease in her expression, the way she leaned just slightly closer than necessary, before it shifted back to him.

The all-too-familiar burn crept in spades, settling beneath my skin, warm at first…then spreading, heavier, harder to breathe through.

Nathan said something in return, short, I think, and shook his head. His expression wasn’t welcoming, to be honest. If anything, it was edged with that same irritation he’d been carrying all day, but with him, that didn’t mean much.

He always looked like he wanted to ruin someone.

When she spoke again, her hand reached for…his arm, brushing it.

My stomach dipped slightly, my fingers curling at my side before I could stop them. Something sharp sparked beneath my chest, an irrational urge of sorts. I wanted to remove her hand. Permanently, if necessary.

Breaking it sounded reasonable.

Breaking her perfectly shaped nose felt…satisfying.

I blinked once.

Right.

We’re not doing that. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Nathan’s gaze dropped immediately to where her fingers touched him. His jaw tightened, and I could swear his eyes darkened just a fraction, with annoyance, maybe.

His hand came up without hesitation, wrapping around her wrist, and he removed her hand from his arm, making it drop away, like it had no business being there in the first place.

Because it didn’t.

Something in my chest loosened at that. My lips twitched slightly, my fist at my side unclenching without me telling it to.

It was a bit reckless on my side, but I trusted this psycho boy with a few pieces of my heart and my unstable mind. I don’t even remember when it happened, how that trust settled in and decided to stay, but it did. He earned it, somehow.

Still, that doesn’t mean people get to touch him like that.

Or look at him like that.

Or exist that close to him without consequences.

I didn’t stay where I was. I closed the distance between us, my steps steady now, my body slipping next to him naturally, like I’d always been there, belonged there.

I pretended not to see the girl I’d soon punch if she didn’t back off as I wrapped my arm around Nathan’s, “Hey, baby,” I said lightly, “Did you order our dessert? I—”

Only then did I pause, like I was just noticing the other person standing there. Yeah, I am petty, sue me if I care. I was no better than him at this point.

My eyes flickered to her, and I smiled, all polite and composed, “Oh, hey,” I said, tilting my head slightly as if I were trying to place her somewhere.

I wasn’t.

She doesn’t belong anywhere near him.

The girl’s smile faltered, just for a second. “Uh…hello,” she said, her British accent slipping through, confirming what I already guessed. She was from around here and probably knew him from before.

Nathan didn’t hesitate as he untangled our arms, then used his to wrap over my waist, pulling me even closer, “Olivia, this is Aylin, the girlfriend I was telling you about,” He said ever so casually.

I looked up at him, my smile softening before my gaze slid back to the girl, “Olivia, hey, nice to meet you,” I said, like the mature person I am.

She put on a smile and nodded. “Likewise,” she said, her gaze drifting back to him. “So…a girl who could make you commit? Unicorns do exist after all,” she added playfully.

Can she back off?

My fingers tightened over the back of Nathan’s shirt, fisting the fabric just enough to keep myself still, to stop myself from doing something completely irrational.

“Not a unicorn, just the right person,” He said, his gaze falling on me, his earlier annoyed expression softening, “I am lucky like that,” He threw me a wink, “Took me a while, but it was worth it.”

“Well…congrats, I guess,” she said, her smile widening, as fake as her nose…okay, Aylin, deep breaths, happy thoughts, we don’t attack random girls, it’s not her fault, we don’t put women down, “Keep an eye on this one,” She told me, “he’s a flight risk.”

Oh, if only she knew.

She turned around then, brushing her light brown hair back as she stepped away. “It was nice seeing you again…” she added, already moving through the crowd.

My smile stayed, until it didn’t.

Not because she left, not because of what she said before, but because of that last word.

Not a word…a name.

She was already a few steps away, her voice fading into the noise of the restaurant, swallowed by laughter and clinking glasses, but I heard it.

I’m sure I did.

It was nice seeing you again, Louis.

My fingers stilled against Nathan’s shirt.

That’s what she said.

Right?

I’m not imagining things, am I?

First Sally, and now this. It couldn’t be what I’ve been circling around these past two days. It just couldn’t be.

But…it made sense. That was the problem. It made so much sense, and it had been roaming my head endlessly ever since Sally brushed it off.

His connection to Lilly and her life back here. The way he slipped in and out of things like he didn’t belong to any version of normal. The violence I already knew he carried so easily. The gaps in his past I never got to fill…but no, still, I mean—

My thoughts stalled when his grip on my waist tightened, pulling me back into the moment. I blinked and looked up at him.

His brows had drawn together slightly, like he was trying to read something off my face.

I smoothed my expression before he could dig deeper, pushing everything down where it wouldn’t spill out at the worst possible time. If I do, he’d only do what he does best, manipulate the situation into his favor and force me to make a scene in the middle of a restaurant.

The last thing I needed was that, especially with Lilly and the rest of them so near.

First, I had to make sure of my theory, then the rest could come.

“Did you call me…baby?” He asked, his brow raising.

I shrugged, “Someone needed to make it clear you weren’t up for the taking.”

His lips twitched, “And am I?”

“Are you what?”

“Your baby?”

“Depends,” I murmured.

“On what?”

“Not letting random girls touch you in public is a good start.”

His lips twitched again, this time harder to hide.

“I didn’t let her,” he said, a hint of offense slipping in, “First thing I said was back off, I have a girlfriend now, swear on my honor—” He paused, reconsidering his words, “Actually, no, my honor isn’t the best reference point over here,” he corrected, nodding once like that made perfect sense.

“Let’s try again,” He added, “Swear on my very much red heart…not grey, as some certain beautiful people assume.”

My eyebrows raised, “Grey is a compliment actually, it implies there is light, balance.” I said, shrugging, “It could be fully black for all I know.”

He frowned, “You wound me every time you say that, you know?” He muttered, deeply offended. “But you do have a point, it could be black for the rest of this world,” he pressed his palm harder over my lower back, pulling me deeper, tipping his head down as he whispered against my lips, “But not for you.”

See, this is Nathan…this is my Nathan. He is the one who holds me together when my mind decides to fall apart. The one who sees the chaos in me and doesn’t step back but steps closer.

He takes care of me, he accepts me at my worst, he goes out of his way to make me happy, just as much as he misbehaves sometimes, but even then, he never does it to hurt me. He is the one who figured out this ticking bomb in my head, and he is the one fighting hard enough to figure out how to stop it.

This is the Nathan that I know.

The problem is, I don’t have a clue about…the Nathan before me.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

I kept my thoughts to myself, allowed them to eat me from the inside out. I pondered over them on the flight back home, tracing lines that were never meant to meet, pulling threads that should’ve stayed loose.

The more I thought of it, the more it fit, the pieces clicking, like a broken record that finally stopped sounding like a static noise.

Nathan was the same he’d been all day. After our little moment, he went back to being silent, too buried in his thoughts. On the flight, his eyes stayed distant, unfocused, but his hand caressed mine whenever he could, almost absently.

When we arrived at his place, he went to take a shower, and didn’t even suggest that I join him…yeah, something is seriously wrong.

I wanted to focus on his current state, try to figure it out, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all connected, threads from different places pulling toward the same center, tightening without showing me what they were tied to.

I paced his room, my steps uneven, my eyes flickering around like the answer might just…appear if I looked hard enough.

I stopped when my gaze landed on his phone, resting carelessly beside his pants. I contemplated it, then shook my head. It’s not like I might find answers in there, right? Maybe? I don’t know.

I exhaled slowly and walked closer anyway, hesitation dragging at every step. My fingers hovered over it, then stopped. Instead of his phone, my gaze flickered to his pants, and an idea clicked. I reached for it, my hand going to the pocket, pulling his wallet out.

I flipped it open, pausing when I noticed that inside the picture slot was…our picture. The one from Maria’s birthday, the one little Nathan took of us, I couldn’t believe he had it printed out.

My fingers brushed over it softly, instinctively, before I shook my head and moved on, pulling out the cards behind it. I ignored them all, pausing only when I reached his ID card, his name spelled correctly. Nathan Viarchi.

My fingers twitched because right behind it, there was another ID card, same face, same everything, just a different number, different name…Louis, again.

My breathing quickened, and I placed everything back into its place.

Before I could think of it, I pulled out my phone and dialed Lilly. I couldn’t ask her directly. She’d deny it, protect him maybe, so I took a page out of Nathan’s book of manipulation.

“Heya, did you guys arri—”

“Why didn’t you tell me Nathan is the same person who was after your family?” I cut her off, the words leaving me before I could soften them.

“Ohhh,” Lilly exhaled, the sound dissolving into a long breath. “That? Oh…yeah, well,” she huffed, “So, he finally told you, huh…that’s a relief. I did tell him that he shouldn’t keep hiding it from you, but it wasn’t my place, Aylin. You know that.”

My grip tightened around the phone. So, yeah, it’s all true…

“I know,” I swallowed, my hand dragging over my throat, “But…he hurt your brother, Lilly. He hurt little Nathan. How…” I couldn’t make sense of it, “How did you…forgive him?”

A quiet scoff came from her side.

“Oh, believe me, we were at each other’s throats for a very long time, and I still haven’t forgiven him for any of that,” She grumbled, “But the whole me almost dying and him also coming back from almost dying, forced us to…bond in a way, I guess. It kind of forced us to see things differently.”

She sighed, “I really don’t know how it happened, he is just persistent like that, that crazy man.”

I stayed silent, trying to understand and failing.

“Look, Aylin, before you start drawing out any more conclusions, just talk it out with him again, okay?” She said, “Hear him out.”

“Okay,” I mumbled, “I’ll talk to you later, thanks.”

I hung up after, my eyes drifting to the bathroom door, the water running still, the pressure over my chest multiplying. I needed a few minutes, hours maybe, to gather my thoughts. I needed…not to explode on him right now, not when he was already all out of sorts.

Even when I didn’t understand a single thing, a part of me, the one hopeless for him, didn’t want to hurt him.

So, I grabbed my jacket and keys and walked out of the house. I’ll just go for a walk, it usually helps me gather my thoughts and sort them through. If it doesn’t help, I’ll go to grandpa’s and stay there till I understand all of this.

I got into my car, roared the engine, and drove off to the marina.

I was halfway there, one hand resting on the wheel, the other pressed against my temple, my face leaning into my palm as my thoughts circled, collided, broke apart, then started all over again.

I didn’t notice the flashing lights in my side mirror, didn’t register the horn blaring behind me, didn’t realize it was meant for me.

That same car sped past me, shooting forward. It cut in front of me without warning, tires screeching against the asphalt as it swerved sideways, blocking the entire road.

My breath tore out of me, my eyes widening, both hands snapping to the wheel as I slammed the brakes so hard.

The car jerked violently, my body thrown forward as it came to a sharp, jarring stop inches away from impact.

The blaring lights couldn’t let me see a thing. I only heard the loud slam of a door, then my own was yanked open before I could even take control of the situation, a hand wrapping around my arm and pulling me out.

The familiar touch, the familiar intoxicating aftershave cologne, startled me.

I blinked against the light, my vision adjusting just enough to look at Nathan, who was glaring at me, his eyes darker than usual, his jaw set tight, a vein pulsing faintly at his temple. His hair was still damp, pushed back messily, like he didn’t bother finishing drying it. His hoodie was thrown on carelessly, like he left in a hurry.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he grated out, his voice rough, barely holding together.

My eyes widened, adrenaline still rushing through me.

“Me?” I shot back, “What do you think you’re doing?” I yanked my arm, but not enough to break his grip, “I almost crashed into you, are you insane? What the hell is your problem?”

His jaw ticked, and without a word, he…dragged me. My body jerked forward as his grip tightened, pulling me away from my car. My feet scraped against the asphalt as I tried to dig in, resisting, my free hand pushing against his arm, trying to pry him off.

“Nath—Nathan, stop,” I snapped, breathless, half furious, half thrown off by the sheer audacity of him.

He turned around, yanking me with him, forcing me closer. “I am so fucking tired of you running away every time,” He grumbled, the rage in his eyes almost unrecognizable.

“I wasn’t running—”

“Then what do you call this?”

“I was—” I faltered, because technically I was, “—just going for a walk,” I mumbled.

“Right, so why didn’t you say anything then? Why did you rush out of the house like someone was after you?” He shot back before his attention snapped past me.

“Get the car out of the road, she’s coming with me,” he added flatly, and I turned, my eyes landing on Adam standing by my car like this was all completely normal.

I whipped my head back to Nathan.

“What? No—no, I’m not—” I struggled again, twisting in his hold. “Let me go. I don’t want to go back with you.”

That lasted about half a second, because he just dragged me again.

I groaned loudly, frustration boiling over, and punched his arm, once and twice.

“Let me go, Nathan!” I snapped. “I hate it when you do this, let me—”

I almost slipped out, almost. I turned around, freedom was right there, till it…wasn’t.

His arm wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me back flush against him in one smooth, infuriating motion. My feet actually lifted off the ground for a second as he hauled me back.

“Are you serious?!” I snapped, kicking my feet uselessly in the air as he kept walking like this was completely acceptable behavior. “God, I hate you, I hate you,” I shot out, so goddaman angry at him and his way of dealing with everything.

“Adam, help me!” I looked at the guy, my eyes pleading with him.

His expression softened into a somewhat apologetic look, and he shook his head. I shot him a glare, “You just lost your coffee privileges, you traitor—” My threat dissolved into a sharp exhale as Nathan shoved me into the car and buckled me in.

My nostrils flared, and I kicked him with my legs, succeeding once as I kneed him in the stomach. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my knee, pushing my legs back inside like he was done entertaining my rebellion.

“Stay put,” He muttered, pinning me down with a look that should’ve scared me. It kind of did, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“I hate you,” I muttered again, breathless now, wishing I had something to throw at his face.

If possible, my words only darkened his eyes further, something shifting there, something I hadn’t seen before. They looked like they’d swallow me whole, a black hole that would throw me into an abyss.

“Hate me all you want,” He said, his tone losing all of its edge, “but you are not going anywhere.”

He shut the door and joined me in the driver’s seat, quickly swerving the car, pulling us back to his place. I tried to contain my anger and frustration, but failed. Here I went away to clear my head and not hurt him with my words, and look at him, abducting me. The absolute asshole.

I huffed loudly and leaned into the door, putting as much space between us as physically possible.

He spoke no word either, but the restless energy radiating off him was enough, the way his fingers twitched over the wheel, the way his leg bounced, like he was containing himself from bursting.

Whatever he was holding back…I had a feeling I was about to find it all out soon.

⊹˚₊‧────────────‧₊˚⊹

Nathan’s POV

Angry didn’t even begin to cover it.

I was already one wrong breath away from losing it all day, then she decides to disappear on me, drive off like that’s a normal, acceptable thing to do. Unbelievable.

I held the door open, and she stayed seated, arms crossed over her chest, her neck flushed red from anger.

“Get down,” I said, my voice calm in that very specific way that wasn’t calm at all. “Or you know how this ends, Aylin. I throw you over my shoulder and drag you inside, kicking and screaming.”

She exhaled loudly, dramatic as always, then got out, her shoulder slamming into mine on purpose as she passed me. My hand clasped her arm before she could get any bright ideas about disappearing again.

Because she has a talent for that, an impressive one.

I pulled her inside with me as she huffed and cursed me under her breath. I locked the door and dragged her further in, then pointed at the couch, “Sit down.”

“Stop ordering me around and manhandling me,” she grumbled, yanking her arm out of my grip and stepping back.

“You force me to do that,” I said simply, “Now, sit down, and we’ll talk about whatever this is.”

She exhaled again before dropping onto the couch, right at the edge, arms crossing over her chest, her gaze deliberately fixed on anything but me.

I sat across from her, “Now, go ahead, talk,” I said, “Why did you run away?”

“I wasn’t running…”

“Aylin,” the way I said her name alone had her shoulders stiffening.

“Nathan,” she muttered back in the same tone, her eyes finally snapping to mine. “Or do you prefer me to call you by your other name? Louis, was it?”

“Oh,” I leaned back slightly, like that was all it took to explain everything. “So that’s it?” I said, utterly unimpressed. “That’s why you left?” I huffed quietly. “Here I thought something actually happened.”

Her eyes widened, “Something happened alright,” She shot out, “Don’t talk about it like it’s so normal!”

“Aylin, since the first time you met me, you knew I wasn’t prince charming, I never pretended to be anyway, so why are you so shocked right now?” My eyebrow raised in mockery, “So yeah, I’ve hurt people, such a big revelation…killed some even, shocking, I know, so what?”

I held her glare, unflinching. “Do you want me to apologize for failing to meet expectations I never set?”

Her breath hitched, “Wha…what the hell is wrong with you?” she gritted out, pushing herself to her feet so abruptly.

She closed the distance between us in seconds. “Why are you like this?”

“You always do this,” she said, pointing an accusatory finger at me, “You twist everything, mock everything, as if nothing matters, like what you do doesn’t hold any weight or has no consequences.” She added.

“You hurt little Nathan…you hurt him, you care about him, how were you able to hurt him? I remember it, I was there, I saw him from a distance, how he was bleeding and hurt…because of you.”

Her hand fisted over the collar of my hoodie, her fingers trembling, “If you could hurt your own nephew, then…” she whispered, her eyes so green, so glassy, “then I really don’t know you at all.”

The pressure in my chest ratcheted higher; I felt it might crack a rib or two.

“You do know me…”

“No, I don’t,” She shook her head, “I don’t know a single thing about you, meanwhile you…you know everything about me, whether I gave it to you willingly or not, you took it, you dug into it, you saw it all, every ugly part, and every broken piece, but you never let me see you, Nathan.”

My hand reached for hers, wrapping over her wrist, needing her to stop, “Aylin—”

“No,” She pulled back immediately, ripping her hand out of my grip. “I won’t let you turn this around, not this time. You say that I always run away? No, it’s you, you always run away, maneuver the situation smartly so it’d steer far away from you.”

Her chest rose sharply with each breath.

“You see, the problem here isn’t that you’ve hurt people. I am not stupid. I knew there was darkness in you. I knew you were capable of things no one else I’ve ever met is.” She shook her head, “The problem is that you didn’t tell me, that you would’ve never told me.”

Well…she was right. I don’t know what it was, control, maybe? A sort of…survival mechanism? I just knew that if I knew everything, I was safe, and if others knew nothing, then I was safer.

That was the program in my head, a very simple system. Worked every time, except now it didn’t.

“You’ve seen me at my absolute worst, accepted me with my flaws, and I would’ve done the same for you. We all make mistakes, Nathan. I would’ve taken yours…all of them, accepted them, no matter how big, but…”

Her eyes flickered away for a second, then back to me, shrugging helplessly.

“But you didn’t give me that choice, because you simply don’t trust me.”

She dropped back onto the couch, a low stuttered breath parting her lips, drained. She looked away from me, not feeling courageous enough to meet my eyes now after all she’d said.

I knew that I had to let her in, somehow. It just felt like standing unarmed in a war zone, it was against every instinct of mine, but here we go, fighting that instinct again for her.

I leaned forward, my elbows pressing into my thighs, hands hanging between my knees. My mouth opened…closed, then opened again. I had no idea how to start, so I just started from the beginning.

“My mother was killed, her brother shot her while she was pregnant with me…”

Aylin’s eyes shot to mine quickly and I carried on, “I survived, she didn’t, you know the whole miracle child and whatnot,” I winced when I heard myself, “Sorry, I don’t know why I use this sarcastic mocking tone all the time, it’s just the way I deal with the shit in my head, I guess.”

Her brows dipped, her expression softening, her back falling into the cushion as she intently listened to me.

“My mother, she was a part of one of the families in the Sicilian mafia back then, but she hated that life, and she wanted out,” I carried on, “She had a friend…Isaac, Nikolas’s father. He helped her run away, brought her here, helped her start over and build her life back from scratch.”

I tried not to read Aylin’s expression as I explained, I dropped my gaze to the floor, and continued.

I rushed a hand over the back of my neck, my fingers tugging at the hairs at the end, “After all those years, her brother found her, and when she sensed something was wrong, she called Isaac, and he came to help, but he was late…”

Silence stretched for a second before I filled it.

“Before he got there, her brother had already set things in motion. He arranged for a car accident that left her husband…my biological father, I mean, in a coma.”

“The only thing was he didn’t know about Natalie and Ronald, back then, they were still young, not even eighteen years old yet.” I added.

“Isaac told me that my mother asked one thing from him only, to make sure her brother never learns a thing about her kids, so…”

“So, he took you,” Aylin mumbled.

I lifted my head then, our eyes meeting, and I nodded once.

“He raised me, took care of me for nine years, like I was his very own blood,” I shook my head, “Even better, considering all the things he did to his real son. You see, he and Nikolas had this thing where they wanted to destroy one another, and I kind of got stuck in the middle of it.”

“How?”

I leaned back slightly, “Well, Nikolas took me from him. At first, it was just to threaten him, then it…wasn’t,” I exhaled, sharper this time, shaking my head once. “It’s complicated. I’d rather not go into details with this one,” I grumbled.

“Anyway, after Isaac died, he made me believe that Nikolas and Natalie abandoned me.”

My fingers curled slightly, then stilled against my thigh. “That the explosion that almost killed me was all their doing. He made me hate them in every way he could and wanted me to continue what he started, because that’s the thing about my father, his love comes with a high price to pay.”

I shrugged, “Of course, he didn’t account for the failing lung and all, so it took me time to gain my strength. I had to be my strongest when I attacked, so I could win…I had to win, for him, that’s how I used to think of it,” I shook my head, “But I only got worse.”

Aylin watched me with soft, worried eyes, as if imagining that weak version of me.

“And when the doctor told me it was final this time around, I kind of lost it, I guess. I realized I’ve got nothing to lose anymore, or…that I had already lost everything a long time ago, so I went rogue. I hurt them, threatened them, played with them, I was ready to do anything and everything.”

My jaw clenched, “I was ready to kill them all if that’s what it would take. I just…hated them because they had everything.”

My fingers curled into the inside of my palm, “They had the perfect life that I thought they stole from me.”

Aylin’s head tilted, her frown deepening, “And what type of life did you have?”

My lips parted, then after a second, closed. I shook my head, “I don’t want to talk about it, Aylin.”

I’ve already said too much. Way too much.

Instead of being rebuked by everything I said, instead of running away, she got up and walked closer to me. She sat down right next to me, making me turn around to face her. She rested her hand over my fisted one, as if she could feel my nerves cracking, ready to snap.

Her fingers were warm…wrong in the best possible way.

She caressed my hand, her thumb brushing lightly over my knuckles, trying to undo something I built into myself years ago.

“Nathan,” She said gently, “You can tell me, it’s me.” Her fingers slipped between mine, “I would never use any of it against you. I’d never hurt you, I promise.”

I gazed down at our hands, hers so little and delicate, I could crush them if I squeezed wrong. That’s who she was to me in the beginning, someone so soft I could crush just to feel powerful, but she soon became my everything.

The only thing I didn’t want to break.

My thumb traced the lines of her palm, mapping something I didn’t fully understand before it moved to her inner wrist, pressing just enough to feel her pulse, hoping it might drag me back from whatever was ripping its way through my head today.

I looked up at her, and…I told her.

Not everything. Never everything. Just enough to bleed without dying from it. Enough to let her stand at the edge of something I’ve spent years burying, something that should’ve rotted by now…but didn’t.

Because my memory doesn’t forget.

It doesn’t soften.

It doesn’t grant mercy.

It drags everything back, every image, every sound, every second, every sensation, so vivid, breathing down my neck like it never left, always waiting, patient, for me to look at it again.

And the moment I do…it pulls me under.

FLASHBACK

Nathan
Eleven years old

I blinked my eyes open, the haziness slowly clearing, the blurriness fading before focusing back.

For a second, I thought I was somewhere else, somewhere normal, back home, maybe?

Then the light buzzed.

That stupid, flickering bulb above me, so white and angry, like it hated being here as much as I did. It kept blinking, on and off, on and off…on and off. I stared at it too long. I think if I had the strength, I’d rip it out of the ceiling just to make the noise stop.

Too bad, I couldn’t.

The air around me was wet, sticking to my skin. The room—if it can even be called that—was too dark, too humid, with no windows, and just walls that looked the same no matter how long I stared at them.

I blinked again.

I was still here.

Where was here? I still didn’t know.

I didn’t know how many days had passed, if they had even. They feel like a lot, but maybe two, maybe three? They feel like a month, though.

I’ve been slipping in and out of consciousness since I got here…since I was kidnapped, I guess?

Everything was fine before that. It was a normal day, as normal as it ever gets. Then Christian and I fought…again. We always fight, it’s like breathing at this point because he is such a monumental pain in the ass.

Monumental…I learned that word from him because he always calls me a monumental headache.

You see, it always goes like this: I talk, he talks, I get annoyed, he gets meaner, I get louder. He is just the opposite of me in everything, so we disagree on everything, every moment of every day.

In the end, he said that he will leave and never come back, that he never wanted to see me again. I snapped and told him that I wish I had kept him on the streets to die, and I should’ve never helped him, before I stormed out.

I remember the way his face changed, and I try not to think about that part. That couldn’t be the last thing I told him, considering I might be the one to actually die in this horrible place. This must be the…karma thingy he once explained to me.

That’s part of why I hate him, too. He thinks he is so smart, uses big words, and thinks he is above us all. He is an old man trapped in an eleven-year-old body. I always tell him that, so he gets angry. Good riddance. The annoying mosquito, I wish he were here.

After our fight, I went to the park near the house, the one that was always empty, mainly because some kid fell from the swings and died years ago, cracked his skull open…wish I could’ve seen that, so it became this cursed place that parents avoided.

The swings were rusted, chains groaning every time the wind touched them. The grass wasn’t really grass anymore, just patches of something dry and refusing to fully die.

I loved it here, though. It was the only place I could sit alone and think.

No annoying Christian buzzing in my ear. No grumpy Alastor forcing me to go train. I hated that old grump, only tolerated him because he was Dad’s right-hand man and Dad liked him…for some reason.

I sat on the swing, closed my eyes, and thought happy thoughts. Then, out of nowhere, something cracked against the back of my head, blackness swarmed my vision too quickly, and when I woke up, I was here.

Random men came and went. They didn’t talk, didn’t hurt me much, so I didn’t understand why they wanted me here. One of them tightened the ropes over my wrists, so I spat in his face, so he punched me. The other one looked at me funny, so I called him a wanker, so he punched me, too.

They gave me no food or water, which is why I’ve been falling weaker by the second.

I think if I close my eyes for too long, I might not open them again.

My head dropped to the side, my eyelids slipping shut again, my energy depleting when the door screeched open. The sound cut through the room as metal scraped against the floor.

I snapped my head up too fast, blinking hard, forcing my eyes open. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay—

A different man walked in this time. He had a bag in his hand. Dropped it on the table in the corner before he took off his jacket. Then he reached into the bag and pulled out a bottle of water.

My eyes locked onto it before I could stop them.

He turned toward me and walked closer. His head tilted slightly, his gaze dragging over my face, then down to the ropes cutting into my wrists, to my legs, then back up again.

His lips curved up, almost kindly, “Are you thirsty?”

I nodded my head, my dry throat bobbing heavily.

He opened the bottle and brought it closer to my lips. His other hand came up, fingers wrapping around my chin, holding my face in place as he tilted the bottle.

Water touched my lips, cold as it slipped into my mouth, down my throat, washing everything dry away.

That lasted for a second only, because he tipped it higher, gripped my chin harder, forcing all the water down till I was choking on it. Water flooded into my mouth, my nose, spilling, forcing its way down as I tried to breathe and couldn’t—

I choked, coughed…till he finally pulled back when the bottle was emptied, laughing as if this was so funny. My head dropped forward, my chest heaving. Water soaked through my shirt, clung to my skin, ran down my face, and into my hair.

I felt his hand again, wrapping my jaw and forcing my head back. He looked down at me, smiling still, a gleam in his eyes. I wanted to kick him, to spit at him too, but even blinking felt heavy now…my body was getting tired of trying.

He moved his hand over my mouth, wiping the water droplets that clung there with gentle strokes, his eyes flickered all over my face, and he tilted his head. “Hmm, you have such a pretty face for a little boy,” was what he said.

“They told me to only roughen you up a little,” He added, his finger moved over my mouth again…why…why was he doing that, “But I think I have other plans in mind.”

He pulled his hand back, finally releasing my face, but I heard this…ringing in my ears, almost like my body was aware that something was about to befall it. The man slipped a hand into his waistband, pulled out his gun, before he started to…unbuckle his belt.

My eyes widened, and I felt myself push back into the chair, as if it could swallow me, “What are…what are you doing,” I whispered, trying to push back, but there wasn’t a space for me to push back into.

With his gun-wielding hand, he gripped my chin, forced it up, “You’re going to be a good boy and let me use this pretty mouth of yours.” He tapped the gun against my cheek once and twice, the metal so cold and biting, “and if you do one thing wrong, I will have to hurt you then, okay?”

“Wha…no, no, get away…get away from me!” I shot out, trying to push back still, my nails scraping against the wooden chair. Maybe if I pushed hard enough, I’d free them, but he pinned me down, held the gun near my face, and pushed…it into my mouth.

I tried to move, to fight him off.

I kept pushing my head back, harder and harder, the broken wood of the chair digging into the back of my skull the further I went. It scraped, bit into my skin, but I kept doing it. It hurt—maybe blood came out from the back of my head, I don’t know—but it was less painful than what he was doing…to me.

So I kept pushing back, and the more I fought, the rougher he became, the harder he yanked me closer to him.

Tears gathered in my eyes from the sheer force of it, and they spilled over before I could stop them.

My stomach turned, folding in on itself until it hurt, as if trying to reject everything inside me. My throat closed up. Nausea climbed up, thick in my chest, like I was about to throw up, but it just stayed there, making everything worse.

I don’t know where the thought came from, or the courage, but I bit him…as hard as I could, which wasn’t much, but his sick groan turned into one of pain. He jerked back so suddenly. I didn’t even understand what I’d done as the gun slammed into my temple so hard, I saw black.

“You son of a bitch!” He shot out loudly.

I was so spent, so I didn’t even understand how he got the ropes off my wrists. One second, they were there. The next, they weren’t.

He yanked me out of the chair and threw me to the ground so hard the air punched out of my lungs.

My knees hit first, the heels of my palms scraped against the floor, skin burning, like it had been peeled off. Saliva spilled from my lips as I coughed, a deep, tearing cough that hurt too much, and I watched, dazed, as a few dark droplets of blood slipped out and mixed with it on the floor.

For a fleeting second, I thought…maybe I could run now, maybe, if I just—

But the thought couldn’t even finish because his fingers curled into the back of my shirt, bunching the fabric tight as he dragged me up, then slammed me into the wall.

My forehead cracked against the stone.

A splitting pain burst through my head, my vision blurring as dark dots swarmed it, spreading to the back of my head. It was a wonder I was still awake.

Maybe the adrenaline.

Maybe the fear of what he’d do to me if I wasn’t…

A low whimper of pain parted my lips. I didn’t mean to make it. I just…couldn’t hold it back.

His hand clamped over the nape of my neck, fingers digging in, pushing me further into the wall.

His other hand moved to the hem of my pants, tugging them down. My eyes widened, my vision sharpened instinctively, and I writhed against his weight, “No, no, let me go!” I shot out so loudly, moving, kicking in any way possible, but he kept pinning me to the wall, “I am going to kill you, let me go!”

“You are such a handful, aren’t you?” He groaned loudly before I felt the crack of his belt against my back, just once. He hit my back with the belt one time only, right below my shoulder blade, but it was much more painful than anything I’ve ever been through…because of what came next.

Pain exploded through me, everywhere, all at once, too big, too much, like my young body didn’t know where to put it, like there wasn’t enough space inside me to hold this ache without breaking.

A pain I didn’t understand, maybe too young to understand, maybe too much to contain, like something was tearing through me and I couldn’t even name it, couldn’t even make sense of why it was happening, why it was me.

“Let me go—let me go, stop!” I shouted, I think, I screamed for help, but no one was coming to help me, “Stop it…stopp…”

My voice sounded wrong, small, like it didn’t belong to me, like it was coming from somewhere so far away.

I screamed for help so many times I lost count.

Tears spilled out of my eyes, too many, too fast. Everything blurred around me. I couldn’t see anything anymore, but I could feel everything.

Every second of it.

Every breath.

Every touch.

Every sound he made.

Every piece of pain that didn’t stop.

“No, please, stop, please…” My chest heaved, pulling in air that didn’t feel like air. I was suffocating. I needed…air.

My chest hurt so bad…that deep, crushing pain that comes right before I cough out blood. My weak lung was hurting, like it was being bruised from the inside out, being carved open slowly.

It hurt.

It hurt so much, and I cried. I couldn’t stop. I pressed my eyes shut, so hard, like if I couldn’t see it, maybe it wouldn’t be real, my nails digging into the wall, scratching, slipping, trying to hold onto something, anything as I whispered in a low voice, “No…dad, please, help me.”

Dad…I cried on the inside, hoping he’d hear me, maybe he’d take me to where he was.

Because I didn’t want to be here.

I didn’t want to feel this.

I didn’t want to be me anymore.

I just…wanted it to stop.

The man let out a sickening sound before he finally let me go and stepped away from me. My legs shook…the loss of his body holding my weight against the wall had me crashing down. I couldn’t stay standing.

I fell, my knees hitting something sharp, the pain shooting up, but not even close to everything else.

I blinked away the tears, blinked through the blur until shapes started forming again, and my eyes landed on what looked like a rock, a big rock with sharp edges. I brought my hand to it, slow, so slow, like I was dragging my limbs through water.

My shaking fingers curled around it, the edges biting into my palm, cutting, but I held tighter.

I moved, dragging myself, my back slumping against the wall as I looked up at him. He tucked his shirt in, fixed himself, and buckled his belt like nothing had happened. Then he crouched down in front of me, his eyes gleaming, too bright, too pleased, like he’d done something good.

He brushed his hand over my cheek, as if to wipe away my tears, “It’s not my fault someone entrusted you with me,” he said, as if it was so simple, and I didn’t understand. I didn’t care to understand.

Something inside me twisted.

Broke.

Snapped.

I lunged at him with whatever power I had in me, and I struck him with the stone to his temple. I hit him so hard, slamming it once, twice, thrice, quickly. He groaned loudly, falling backward, slightly losing his balance.

I didn’t stop. I hit him again. And again. And again. My arms shook, my hands slipping with blood—his blood, my blood, I didn’t know—but I kept going.

I didn’t want him to move again.

I didn’t want him to breathe and be alive.

He managed to shove me away at the last second, throwing me back, slamming my body against the wall.

He brought his hand to his face as the blood furiously spilled down, his eyes, his lashes, down his cheeks.

“You little fucker!” He groaned in agony. He tried to steady himself, but he faltered, his eyes squeezing shut, his palm slamming into the wall to keep himself upright.

My eyes flickered to the gleaming metal near the chair, and I rushed so fast, my fingers quickly curling over it.

“Come back here—”

He was coming in behind me, footsteps heavy, so I whirled around so fast, and I pressed the trigger without thinking.

I closed my eyes, and the force pushed back into me, stronger than I expected, jolting through my arms, my shoulders, my chest. I pressed it again, and again, and again. Dad used to let me hold his gun before. He’d line up bottles and tell me to aim.

I never hit them.

Now, though, when I heard a very loud thud, my eyes glided open, watching as the man fell to the ground, every bullet that came from me hit him, in his chest, in his stomach, his leg, and in his forehead.

I didn’t miss.

Blood spilled out of him, fast, too fast, pooling around his body, spreading in every direction, reaching, creeping across the dirty floor. So red. Too red. It moved in slow swirls, twisting into itself, flooding everything it touched, like it wanted to swallow the room whole.

The gun slipped from my shaky fingers.

I didn’t even realize I let go.

It hit the floor with a loud clank, sinking into the blood, disappearing halfway into it.

I just…stood there.

Breathing.

Barely.

I waited to feel something after, but nothing came.

I think that’s when I learned how easy it is to stop someone from hurting you…permanently.

⊹˚₊‧────────────────‧₊˚⊹

Author’s note:

It was a very long chapter, quite draining too…
I tried not to describe the whole event in details, because I simply cannot, but you get it 🙁

My poor baby, I want Nikolas and Natalie to hug this eleven years old Nathan so very tightly…

Anyway, what are your thoughts?

Also, this flashback isn’t quite over, the next part of it will be in the next chapter and will connect to the plot of this story…so hang on tight, we are so close!

See ya soon ❤️‍🩹