Chapter Fifteen Tyler
Chapter Fifteen
TYLER
“SO WHY FIGHT at all?”
Larissa’s earlier question has plagued me for years.
Becoming Preston’s most trusted has given me access to knowledge I sometimes wish I didn’t have—of the terrifying evils committed by those in power.
Mankind has always been barbaric in nature.
From the beginning, greed and control have been its biggest motivators.
Thirsty conquerors lining up to claim the same type of rule.
Rising into power by any means necessary and doing their worst before a brave gathering of souls steps up to end the tyranny, resulting in inevitable war and bloodshed.
Rinse and fucking repeat.
Despite all those who claim to care so much, hate and intolerance have become the world’s love language. Crimes today are just as barbaric as they were then, but far harder to detect.
Most nights, I can’t summon an answer. Earlier, it was the memory of the crack of Zach’s bat at his last varsity game that came to me.
The sound of cheers, his humble smile as he searched for me—that was the America my grandfather, my father, and I signed up to protect. For a moment, unity felt real.
Ignoring the blanket at my side, I use the cold to numb the day.
I can’t shake Larissa’s sincerity when she thanked me.
Her eyes, tone—unmistakably sincere. Her plea for me to see her as someone other than Ciro’s daughter was seemingly genuine.
From her display today, she’s either the best actress I’ve ever encountered or genuinely upset by my lack of desire to have anything to do with her.
A woman that beautiful can get attention from any man, so why try so hard to gain mine?
And I want her. God, do I want her.
That body, that face—crafted to my exact specifications.
When she stood dripping before me, it took every bit of restraint not to snatch her to me.
The need to fuck her is destroying my resolve.
My cock doesn’t care that she’s likely deceiving me.
The idea of conquering her for that reason alone only fuels me.
If I hadn’t tasted her, delved into her mouth, felt her warmth, this wouldn’t be so hard to navigate. Her presence is sandpaper on a sunburn, her beauty keeping me on a near-constant high.
She’s confused about who she is, searching for direction. Her questions today were intrusive, but she’s internally searching. Her behavior points to her wanting a new purpose, a way to redeem herself from the monster her father shaped her into. Can I believe that?
It’s my want to believe it that has me treating her with some civility.
I talked to her today just as I would one of my birds—gave her thoughts I’ve only shared with my most trusted. And why? Because our days are numbered? Maybe. Or maybe I just want her.
I’ve envied the lives of my brothers—their hard-won loves.
Tobias and Cecelia’s tortured road to reconciliation.
Preston and Molly, rock solid despite the spotlight.
Denny and his protectiveness. And then there’s Sean and Tessa and their dynamic, which I envy to the point that jealousy is overtaking my reasoning.
“Ne me pleure pas. Promets moi.” Do not mourn me. Promise me.
I never agreed to that promise, and my heart has refused to keep it, still pumping in the offbeat rhythm she set with her departure. A paralyzing reminder with each beat of who I promised my forever to. There’s no replacing the love I had for her, nor our connection. There’s no fucking after her.
Relenting, I finally pull the freezing blanket Larissa offered over me and lift my gaze up to the stars.
Reminding myself that the blanket of lights hovering above is the very same that has been staring back at me for the whole of my life.
Both during the time I envisioned my future and now within my decided path.
Tonight, I take real notice of the twinkling sentries, stargazing purposefully for the first time since I danced with Delphine in our pasture filled with her wildflowers.
I clearly remember begging those stars that very same night for a small miracle.
A miracle they denied me—time. Glaring at them now, I remember why I turned away from the liars above and the true fortunes they grant.
Living in their doled-out path for me—with the knowledge that my North Star fell long ago with my father’s descent into himself—all romantic constellations ceasing to exist for me when Delphine took her last breath.
The what if and when losing all place in my life.
With that, I decide the stars I’m glaring at are just a part of the cosmos, nothing more, and have no significance in my present. And so I make no childish wish upon them.
Fuck them.
Fuck them for taking Dom and Delphine.
The world I’ve done nothing but pledge myself to in servitude already snatched the what if away from me.
I now happen to my life and the lives of others, not the other way around. My stance in that unchanging as it has been since life stole my most significant reason to fight.
Mind and head straight, in an act of defiance, I blink away any cosmic view and quiet the questions plaguing me, quashing all notions of a personal future.
Larissa’s got some unspoken agenda with me.
I’ve never been more fucking certain of anything.
Knowing that, feeling it in my gut, my core, and my bones, I’m not about to let a few sincere interactions rip that truth from my grip.
The greatest lies always come with some semblance of the truth, which only makes them more convincing. I should and do know.
Like Larissa, the stars dazzle from a distance, but in reality, they aren’t at all pretty up close. They eventually burn out, just like my attraction for her will as soon as I get a closer look.