Chapter 29.
Reuben
My fist strikes Aster’s cheek so sharply, he staggers back, but he bounces back quickly with a single glare, hitting me back without even waiting a breath.
The punch is sharp across my cheek, but I ignore it, grabbing his hand and locking on to kick my foot into his torso.
“Fucking asshole,” I snarl.
“Love-sick fool,” he snaps back, charging his head into my torso to grab me and slam my body into the wall.
It’s another jolt of pain across my spine.
I grit my teeth with a hiss, bringing my elbow down into his back to break his grip.
“You fucking shot at me!” I yell.
“I wasn’t aiming for you, dumbass!”
Someone grabs Aster to pull him away, but before I can charge into him and get in another strike, Baal is pulling me back too.
I kick my feet out, but it’s too late. Tobias has also grabbed me and is pulling me back.
Everyone’s fucking with me today.
I smack them away dismissively as I huff, and they release me only when they’re sure I won’t charge at him again.
“I’ve always known you were a monster, Aster,” I let the words rot between us, “but because you’re my brother, I’ve never once pointed my gun at you!” The anger in my chest is like a fire beneath my skin, settling behind my skull.
“After today, you’re dead to me.”
Baal interjects, “Reuben, he was trying to protect you—”
“Bullshit,” I spit and the fire in me ignites further.
“You have to feel something to want to protect it. He doesn’t feel anything.
He hasn’t felt a single thing since the day he was born.
” I jab my finger in Aster’s direction, “I don’t know what performance you thought you’d play out here, but you and I both know the monster in the room isn’t Christian, it’s you. ”
Aster’s eyes widen and his white energy ripples again as he stares at me, as if he might be feeling something for the first time, but I’m too far gone in anger to give a fuck.
“Who knows when to laugh, when to look sad, when to make jokes—”
“Reuben—” Baal cuts in but I barge through him mercilessly.
“When in truth there isn’t a single fucking thing in the world you love or hate. Not me. Not family.”
I say the words because they’ve been rotting in my throat for years. Because I’ve had enough of the pretend.
“Still, I would’ve forgiven you for anything,” I step forward to grab his collar, face contorting with anger and pain, “Because we’re blood. Because you’re my brother.”
When I look into his eyes, I only see a monster. A monster trying to feel.
I shove him away from me.
“Except this.” My eyes glitter darkly.
“Fuck off, Aster.”
The words are a shot in the air. The residue from a smoking gun pointed directly into Aster’s ribs. The sound of a page ripping out of the book.
When I leave, I don’t care what I’m leaving behind.
When the elevator door closes me in, my eyes never leave his.
And I’ve stopped caring for bonds that never existed in the first place.
I can’t tell if the days after that are a blur or seconds, trapped in a time capsule.
The moment Christian disappeared everything went to shit. Gangs started attacking Father’s shipments, started poisoning Mother’s transplants. The rumour of Father’s insignia being stolen, flew across the state like wildfire, leaving our reputation in shambles.
We were suddenly fighting for our lives.
And the only one we could blame was the bastard who stole the insignia in the first place.
August Antonovna.
Sly fucking bastard.
We knew there was someone out there funding the smaller gangs. Injecting money into them for years and years. Ensuring we could never squash them completely. We even figured, whoever it was, funded the Harvester and the Lester family.
He was lying low before… but he signed his name on the letter to my family.
Now, he’s stepped out into the open. He’s baring his teeth at us.
Was it because the Lester family disappeared? Because we stopped his operation?
But if the financier is August… is it because Christian killed his brother during the Millenium Heist?
One of the scumbags who’d raped Lucia was August’s brother; I thought I’d erased all the evidence I could of that fact, but it’s highly likely he figured it out.
I figure that’s why he dug into Christian’s past and sold him out to us… but if all he wanted was Christian, then why is he still attacking our shipments? Why is he targeting our warehouses?
The world thinks the fake Christian Adler is dead.
Everyone thinks he died trying to save a member of the family.
Which means August doesn’t want Christian Adler.
He wants something else.
The entire family has been busy without rest, trying to put out the fires August set off.
Dahlia was heartbroken over the truth about Christian.
Kai hasn’t come out of his room either since then, and I’d blocked Lucia’s calls only for her to show up at my doorstep and demand to know where Christian is.
‘He’s gone,’ I tell her.
Lucia sputters, ‘What do you mean he’s gone—?’
‘I mean he never existed!’ I yell. My temper keeps slipping, whenever Christian’s involved.
‘He’s gone,’ I say more gently, before closing the door in her face.
‘Go home. Don’t come back here.’
These days I’m lost.
I live in the gym.
I barely eat.
I barely sleep.
I just hit the sandbag over and over again.
I’m too volatile to help the family put out the fires.
I’m too angry with Aster.
Baal hasn’t come to see me either since then—he’s angry with me. Which doesn’t even make fucking sense.
And Christian… Christian hasn’t come back.
What are you, baby?
Why is it that I don't feel the slightest bit betrayed, even now that I know you’re not who I thought you were?
I’m constantly thinking. Constantly turning our interactions over in my head.
And your energy never lied to me.
Your grief was real.
Your desire to make the Adler Squad great…
That was real. Your suffering was real, but it’s just so…
Wrong.
You've got it all wrong.
I don’t even know who you are… but all the amazing things you’ve done, they don't belong to a dead man.
They belong to you.
Even if the real Christian Adler hadn’t died that night, he would’ve died on board the Millenium Star. He wouldn’t have survived that fight with Olsen or identified the Harvester or survived that truck accident or saved Kai—
He would’ve died again and again and again—
You’re the one who did the impossible day in and day out, none of that belongs to dead fucking men…
Are you even human?
Is it that… you don't have anyone to teach you?
I rest my head against the sandbag, groaning.
My heart feels cold.
I'm remembering the way he looked in the mirror when he thought no one was looking.
I'm remembering the way he talked about the Adler Squad, and my heart feels heavy.
You stuffed yourself into that small box. You broke yourself into such small pieces. You denied everything that would’ve made you happy… even if it was me.
All for Christian Adler.
All for the Adler Squad.
And I don’t know if it's because you worshipped him or because you loved him.
“Good evening.” A familiar voice by the door pulls me out of my thoughts, and I tilt my head to meet my mother's gaze.
“I was told my son is in here? His mother wants to make sure he's alive.”
“I think he's alive, but I can't say for sure.” I hang my head back to stare at the ceiling. “Feel free to check.”
“… It smells like he might be dead.”
“The verdict then.”
She places a hand on my back and for the first time in days I feel a lot more grounded.
“I think I'm losing my mind, Mama,” I mumble softly.
“I think we all are, recently. Bit by bit.” She bites her lip. “Your father asked for you. He's meeting August to negotiate the return of the insignia.”
Father’s ring.
Yes, I can see why that would take priority. The insignia is the symbol of our power as a family. Having it taken is already a hard blow.
“Always such a pleasant start to the New Year,” I mutter as I turn away. “I hope Father isn't underestimating August.” My eyes darken as I reach for a warm water bottle, “He hit us too deep, too fast. Until we figure out what he wants—” my words die when I remember the man I'm talking about.
“Right, Father would know that. He'd have taken enough men to start a shootout.”
“Aster is with him as well.”
August will learn the fear of god then, I suppose, if he gets on Aster’s bad side...
But I'm remembering Aster doesn't have a bad side.
Or a good side.
“If Christian wasn’t there, Aster would've shot me.” My eyes narrow.
“Aster would've never shot you, Reuben.”
“Then that means he counted on Christian trying to shield me,” I meet my mother's eyes, and I can feel the anger again burning inside me.
“What kind of sick fuck uses his brother to try to kill someone who’s trying to protect them?”
Mother's hand lashes out on instinct, I know. The slap she laces across my face splits my lip but at this point it's just our usual dance. I would've thought she'd use her fist this time.
We glare at each other silently, and I huff through my nose before a stark guilt takes over her energy. Her shoulders relax with a loud exhale.
“This is my fault. And your father's.” She folds her arms, not angrily but guardedly. “We should've been more open with you both. That way it would've never created such a rift between you.”
“What are you talking about—?”
“Aster was born with a deficiency.”
The words hover in the air.
I'm not... sure what they mean for a moment.
Until I do.
Until my heart is squeezing painfully in my chest.
“In his brain,” she says softly.
I shut my eyes tight.
Fuck.
Fucking fuck all fucker—
I turn away, beelining straight for the bar because suddenly I need a drink.
And maybe a coffin.
I think I can build the bitch and just lie in it myself.
Tuck myself right in.
“He has alexithymia.” She doesn't follow me into the bar. “It’s not that he doesn’t have emotions. He just has... a hard time feeling them.”
The ripples.
The ripples I saw in his energy.
When I called him a monster.
Turns out, I’ve been God's little inside joke this whole time.