Chapter 38
CEZAR
The impact stole the air from my lungs so violently that for a second, all I could hear was ringing. I shook myself hard, trying to force adrenaline through the pain before Father came back.
The spear hadn’t punched all the way through, though it sliced deep enough to tear into muscle. Somehow, it missed the bullet wound.
Small fucking mercy.
The pain was brutal, radiating through my entire body while blood trickled down my arm.
Welcome home, Cezar.
I knew I’d been lucky with the bullet. Lucky to still be alive.
This was manageable. Just my shoulder. I could still move my hand.
I wanted to look at the damage, but I didn’t dare yet.
Hot liquid continued to seep down my arm, sticky and warm, urging me to fight.
I kept my focus on the ceiling, trying to ignore the pain.
The box remained in my hand. I had plans for it later.
A click echoed through the room, then the spear was freed from my shoulder, dragging shredded tissue with it.
I winced, biting down on the inside of my cheek to keep the groan in.
The doctor made his way over—Father’s little pet, loyal to him since before I was born—and started stitching me up.
No anesthetic. No warning. Just needle and thread dragging across open wounds while the room spun.
Once he finished, one of the goons hauled me from the chair and tossed me to the ground. My arms couldn’t brace me. I hit the floor with a jolt that shot agony up my entire side.
“Fucking worthless piece of shit, as usual. Should have aimed it for your heart or your stomach.” My father jeered.
I clenched the box, its edges digging into my palm.
Part of me panicked, wondering if I was about to die in this room, bleeding out without Lina holding me. The other part pictured her at my funeral. I think she would be sad, and I hated making her sad. That image burned in my mind.
One of the men approached me, and I snapped. I tightened my hold on the box and swung with everything I had. The crack was loud. The collapse was immediate.
Pretty sure I killed him. Good.
Father knew what I was capable of. He’d always known. That was why he kept the leash short. Why he kept trying to convince everyone I was weak. He feared the day I’d fight back. I was nothing like him, which he hated. I loved with everything I had. He loved nothing and no one.
I lost track of how many men stepped in after that. They usually avoided my face so things wouldn’t look suspicious later. One got too bold, hit me across the cheek, and Father laid into him. Didn’t stop the rest from continuing. Each strike sent pain ricocheting across my body until I tasted iron.
“That’s enough. Take him to the cell. You know what to do,” he commanded.
They dragged me down the hall like dead weight and threw me into the familiar darkness. The door slammed, and it was like being erased. That was how Father did it. He’d try to break me, lock me away, barely keep me alive, and then drag me out when he thought I’d learned.
Over the next few days, I wasn’t given any food and had barely enough water to survive on. The doctor would be in and out, attending to the wounds.
My phone had died. Father never took it away—he didn’t need to. He knew I wouldn’t do anything. He knew no one would come to save me.
Before the battery died, I’d managed to text Lina. I told her I would be MIA for a bit as I had some things to attend to. She knew I was lying because all she sent back was: Let me know when it’s over; I will clean you up.
That text kept me sane. Barely.
I didn’t even hear the guards at first. Lost in my head. Then hands grabbed me, pulling me up the stairs and into the same room—spotless now. Cleaners had made sure every trace of my suffering was wiped away.
“Cezar,” Father began, pacing with boredom, “I don’t think what I do is enough anymore. Something’s going on with you. Remember your place, and remember who could replace you at any time.”
He meant my brothers.
They shoved me onto my knees. I braced myself just before his hand met my face. He rarely left marks where others could see them, but this time, he didn’t seem to care. His anger boiled hotter when he caught the faint smile tugging at my lips. I’d been thinking of Lina.
He raised his hand again, and one of his men appeared with the whip he favored. My stomach sank.
Ah, fuck.
Hands snatched me, chained me to the wall.
My arms were positioned high above my head, forcing every muscle in my back apart just as the first lash cut through the air with a loud, vicious crack.
I gritted my teeth, jaw locked, knuckles burning as I tightened my fists.
I pressed my forehead to the wall, its cold surface the only relief I had as the next strike landed.
Usually, the punishment was limited and focused, but this time it seemed endless. Each strike added to the red seeping through my clothes. He was screaming at me, but I didn’t make a sound.
Another crack echoed. For a split second, I wondered if maybe it was time to go see Mom.
No.
Fuck no.
And leave my Petal alone? Never.
Lina was waiting. She had to be. I thought of her beauty, her softness, her cruelty, her everything. I grasped at her desperately. Eyes closed, I let myself fall into the sanctuary of her care that awaited me beyond this torment. The only place where this nightmare didn’t exist.
It would be all right.
The lashes stopped, and his henchmen unshackled me, sending me crumbling to the ground. My body gave out completely. I couldn’t feel half of myself anymore. I was towed to another room where the doctor stitched me like a patchwork doll again. He was nothing compared to Dorin.
Eventually, I woke up in my own room. Agony hit the second I moved. Thank god I still had some leftover pain meds in my bag. I swallowed them dry and immediately dug into the stash of food I always kept hidden. I ate everything—chips, jerky, whatever I had.
Then I spotted the old liquor bottle I’d stolen from Father months ago.
Terrible fucking idea.
Didn’t care. I needed to forget, even if the forgetting only lasted minutes.
The liquor burned down my throat, numbing just enough of the agony to make breathing easier. Mixing it with pain meds was stupid as fuck, but the relief hit fast. Time warped. My body went floaty and distant, and walking felt like balancing on a sinking ship.
A knock interrupted the haze. Codrin. The only one it could be. I remained silent, hoping he’d take the hint and leave like everyone else did. “I’m coming in. Hopefully, you’re decent.”
Codrin stepped inside and found me in my usual disguise—long sleeves, sweatpants, the uniform I used to keep hidden from my brothers. I swayed a little as I faced him.
“What’s up, bro? You have a good night?” I slurred, holding myself together with liquor and bad decisions.
“Jesus, Cezar, drinking again?” Codrin approached, and I instinctively backed up, stopping short of the wall to spare my back.
He acted like I drank all the time, which wasn’t true, but when I did, I tended to go overboard. He noticed my retreat and paused, giving me a puzzled look. The move wasn’t like me, but he must’ve chalked it up to the alcohol.
“I am sure Father wasn’t happy with you. Did he train you super hard this last week? You look exhausted,” he questioned.
There was something in his voice—suspicion, maybe. Was Lina getting through to him? Had she shown him what it looked like when someone actually cared?
I didn’t respond. My jaw clenched. Anger simmered. The alcohol wasn’t helping. The pain wasn’t helping. Nothing fucking helped. I grabbed the pill bottle and was about to shove more in my mouth, but he snatched it from my hand.
“Fuck, man, give it back. My body hurts,” I snapped, the words tripping over each other.
“Dude, I know your physical therapy was rough, and whatever Father had you doing this past week didn’t help, but you can’t mix this stuff with how much you’ve had to drink,” he admonished, stowing the pills in his pocket.
That was it; I was at my breaking point. Tears slid down my face. No one but Petal knew the depth of this pain, and even she couldn’t fix it all. I wanted to run away with her, with my brothers. I hated this life. I hated that I existed in this fucking hell.
Codrin fell silent, his gaze fixed on me.
I didn’t cry often and never in front of them.
The last time was when I took my first life.
Lately, though, keeping my emotions buried had become a losing battle.
I couldn’t contain it. Maybe it was the drugs, the alcohol, the relentless pain, but I couldn’t fucking hold it together.
No matter how hard I tried to wipe away the tears, they kept coming.
He approached me cautiously and enveloped me in a hug. I flinched, which he mimicked. His embrace pressed against my back, against everything.
“I know your arm is probably sore. I didn’t mean to squeeze so hard, man…” Codrin’s voice was tinged with remorse as he pulled away. Then he glanced down. His white shirt was smeared with my blood. The doctor hadn’t done a great job patching me up if I was bleeding out through my fucking clothes.
Horror clouded his eyes as he looked up at me, then at his sleeves, his hands… There was so much blood. Maybe that explained why I felt so fucked up.
“Fuck… Cezar… what the fuck, what h-happened??” His voice rattled. The same way it did at the hospital. At least he cared, even if he didn’t know how to show it half the time.
Codrin packed my things, zipped me up in a coat, grabbed one for himself, and hauled me out of the room. I didn’t know where we were going, but anywhere was better than here. We didn’t make it far before running straight into Darius.
I was holding my phone—the one thing I always kept close, and Darius ripped it right out of my hand, mocking the way I clung to it. “Relax,” he said, smirking. “Father only trains you that hard because you’re useless. Not because he thinks you’re ever going to be anything.”
Nothing he said could hurt me anymore.
Codrin didn’t share that attitude. He grabbed the phone back so fast that Darius didn’t have time to react. I only started paying attention when Codrin raised his voice.
“JUST STOP, fuck, Darius, just stop,” he snapped, then handed me my phone, and without a second glance at Darius, we left.