Chapter Twenty-One #2
“No, stop.” Her hands move to the air, as if placing an invisible wall between us. “Thiago, stop.”
I don’t, and if the hospital staff could hear us, none of them would bother to stop this.
“Look at your son.” I chuckle at that. Scrolling through my phone, I find the picture I took the night his father died, and hold it up for her to see.
Zayden was so out of it that he never noticed , not even when I stole strands of his hair in order to test it.
“Look at you… Sure, surgery might have changed a lot about your looks, but you're still rotten in your core.”
Lucia’s eyes dart between the phone and me, her lips trembling, and I still keep going. I step closer, invading her space, allowing the rage to crawl up my throat until it tastes like relief. She closes her eyes, and I see red.
“Look at him,” I hiss, shoving the phone towards her face. “Look at what you made. You think you can bury this under silk sheets and charity galas? You think standing by him makes you holy?”
She exhales a shaky breath that catches in her throat. “Thiago, please—”
“Please?” I laugh, sharp and hollow. “You don’t get to beg. You don’t get to cry. You built this. You married a monster and called it ambition. Abandoning a little boy, for the sake of what?”
She flinches, tears spilling down her cheeks, and still, I keep going.
“You knew he was destroying everyone, including me, and still you fucking stayed.” My eyes bulge with rage, veins popping in my neck.
“You stayed because it was easier to be rich…” My voice cracks, but I don’t care.
“You let him turn boys into corpses and girls into ghosts. And now you want to play the grieving wife?”
I scoff, disgust rolling off me in waves. Lucia’s hand shoots out, gripping the bed rail like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
“Stop it,” she whispers. “You don’t understand…”
“I understand perfectly.” I slam my fist against the wall, the sound echoing through the sterile space. “You’re just like him. You just hide the rot behind a tender smile.”
The machines beep faster, my father’s body twitching under the sheet.
Can he hear me? Hear the anger in my accusations?
Hear the anguish he’s forced me to live with?
I stare down at the tubes, the wires, and the hollow shell of power that lies in the stiff hospital bed.
Something inside me fractures. The urge to disconnect the machine and allow him to turn into nothing has me shaking in place.
Anger and grief collide, creating an explosion inside.
“I only wanted to protect him…” Lucia whispers more to herself, but that doesn’t stop me from responding.
“You want to protect him?” I say, voice low, trembling with emotions I can no longer contain. “Then do what I can’t. End him.”
Before she can say another word, I’m already heading towards the door, hearing her sob as I step into the hall. The hallway stretches ahead, white and endless. My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out everything else.
Outside, the sun still shines, taunting me with a warmth I don’t deserve.
The light burns my eyes, it feels wrong…
Too clean for the filth that clings to me.
I walk faster, each step heavier than the last, until I’m standing in front of my car, gulping for air to stop me from drowning.
I open the door, and for the first time in days, I pull out a cigarette and place it between my lips before lighting it.
The flame flickers against the wind, the smoke burning my throat, but I welcome it.
It’s the only thing that hurts less than the truth. My gaze drifts back to the hospital entrance, at the revolving doors swallowing strangers whole. Everyone walks in hoping for mercy, unaware of the two monsters being kept alive inside. My phone buzzes again—Wyatt’s name fills my screen.
I should answer it… I want to, but I hold back the urge.
I let the call ring out, watching the screen dim until my reflection stares back at me, and I barely recognize myself. My eyes look hollow, like something has been scooped out of me. I whisper to the glass, “You’re next, old man.”
And with that, I turn on the car and drive out of the parking lot and head back to campus, needing to find Zayden and tell him the truth.
I don’t realize that I’m crying until the tears cloud my vision, the road blurring into streaks of gold and grey, and the sunlight slicing through the windshield like knives.
My chest feels too tight, my throat raw from the smoke and the sobs that I keep swallowing.
I press harder on the gas, the engine roaring.
I can’t stop crying; the world turns into a watercolor of pain.
I blink hard, but it makes it worse. The trees bend, the lines on the road twist. I slap my hand into my forehead, over and over.
“Get it together,” I utter like a mantra, gripping the wheel so tight my knuckles ache.
The phone buzzes again on the passenger seat.
I glance at it for half a second, and that’s all it takes.
The tires skid, and the world tilts in a flash of bark, with a deafening sound of metal that mingles with the breath being ripped out of me.
The impact throws me forward, glass shattering around me, airbag exploding towards me, and finally, everything goes quiet.
The phone buzzes again, and my fingers twitch trying to reach for it, but my body doesn’t listen.
The world fades at the edges, colors draining until there's nothing left but the sound of my heartbeat, and then nothing…