Chapter 11 #2
His lips trembled as he inhaled. “I started to panic, knowing my father would kill me if I didn’t act soon.
I needed to make my move. Then Jack called her over for breakfast and spilled the truth about time travel right before me.
It was the perfect setup. My chance.” His expression darkened. “But I failed. Miserably.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, suppressing the rage twisting in my gut. “And then? What happened between you and your father?”
Tristan tugged at his bindings, his knuckles turning white.
“He disowned me. He told me I was the worst mistake of his life. A failure.” His voice cracked.
“After that, no matter how hard I tried to earn his love, nothing was ever enough. He only wanted Olivia. She was my one chance to prove myself.”
His voice dissolved into a pitiful whimper—more a donkey’s bray than a man’s words.
“The moment she time traveled, I went into hiding, terrified of what he’d do to me. But… nothing happened.” He sniffled. “I haven’t seen him in months.”
Pathetic.
No man worth his salt would stoop to sniveling like this, painting himself as a victim.
I grasped Tristan’s bony shoulders and shook him. “Tell me—who is this father of yours that you fear so much?” I already had suspicions but wanted to hear him say it.
Tristan averted his gaze, lips pressing into a thin line.
I grabbed a fistful of his hair, jerking his head back. “Fine. If you don’t tell me who your father is, answer me this.” My voice dropped into a lethal whisper.
“Who is Eyan Malik?”
Tristan’s eyes darted wildly, rolling like pebbles kicked across a dirt road. “Father said he got rid of him.”
My patience thinned. “Who is your father?”
Tristan met my eyes with a cold, dead stare. “I’m not at fucking liberty to say.”
I exhaled quickly. “Then I’m not at liberty to let you fucking live.”
I lunged, hands wrapping around his throat, squeezing. His body convulsed, legs jerking against the chair’s restraints.
A firm grip yanked me back. “We need to keep him alive,” Lee growled, wrestling my hands away.
I ground my teeth, my gladiator instincts screaming to finish this. But I forced myself to step back, heeding Lee’s warning. “Fine,” I bit out. “Then I’ll beat your father’s name out of you.”
Tristan squirmed, trying to pull his knees up, but his bound ankles made it useless. “No! Please—spare me. I can’t tell you who he is.”
“Can’t or won’t?” I demanded, hand drawing back to slap him again.
His breath came in ragged gasps. “I can’t. I just can’t,” he wailed.
Coward.
Frustration churned in my gut. I glanced at Lee, then motioned for him and Jack to enter the corner.
Lowering my voice, I asked, “What are the rules for getting information out of someone?”
Lee crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “We’ll need to have a long talk about that.” His gaze slid back to Tristan, assessing him. “But he might crack if we offer the right incentive.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Jack leaned in slightly. “The same way we got him over here for dinner when Olivia was with us—we’d offer him food, and suddenly, his ‘hectic schedule’ would clear up.”
I stroked my jaw, considering. “I see. We need to bribe him.”
Turning back to Tristan, I stalked around him in circles. “How about this? Tell me who your father is, and I’ll allow you to time travel with me.”
Tristan eyes turned toward me but quickly looked away.
Was that interest—or fear?
I kept circling, my voice smooth, coaxing. “I’ll take you anywhere. A place of your choosing. You can disappear.” I swept my arm through the air as if painting endless possibilities before him. “Or maybe… you’d like to see Olivia again? Apologize?”
Tristan stuttered, his face paling.
No interest. Fear.
I stopped before him and seized his chin, forcing his gaze to mine.
“I’m offering you a way out, Tristan,” I murmured, my voice low, coaxing, the kind used to soothe a frightened child. “You can escape. Be free of your father. No more running, no more hiding. Just say the word, and I’ll take you anywhere.”
The washing machine shuddered to a stop, the silence pressing around us.
Tristan shivered in my grip, swallowing hard. Then, in a shaky whisper, he said, “If you hurt me, my father will kill you.”
Then, with conviction, he added, “He is a dangerous man.”
“Really?” I pressed harder against his jaw, my grip tightening. “Why would it matter if something happened to you? You just said your father doesn’t care about you. So why would he give a damn if you ended up dead in this basement?”
Lee, who had been hanging back, stepped in beside me. “Is your father a Timehunter?”
I released Tristan’s chin, watching as he flexed and stretched his jaw.
Olivia’s warning echoed in my mind. The Timehunters were going to come after us and kill us. But when had she said that? Was it real or from one of those strange nightmares that haunted my sleep?
Lee’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and demanding. “Answer me! Is your father a Timehunter?”
“No!” Tristan thrashed against his restraints. “My father’s not a Timehunter.”
Lee didn’t back down. “Then what is he? Who is he?”
Tristan’s lips cracked and stained with dried blood, pressed together in stubborn silence.
I clasped my hands behind my back and resumed my circling. “I’m a patient man, Tristan,” I said. “I can wait you out. Sooner or later, you’ll feel the urge to eat, drink… maybe even piss.” I tilted my head. “And when that moment comes, I’ll still be here. We’ve got nothing but time.”
The irony of the statement didn’t escape me. I had all the time in the world.
Jack and Lee remained silent, letting the weight of my words settle in. I continued my revolutions around Tristan, allowing the anticipation to build. Then, after a few more passes, I stopped before him.
I drew my dagger from its sheath. The blade caught the dim light, gleaming like the promise of pain.
I tapped the tip against my palm. The quiet click of metal against skin filled the basement.
Tristan’s breath hitched.
“You’re going to tell me who your father is, Tristan.”
I traced the shell of his ear with the tip of my blade, the metal whispering against his skin.
Lee and Jack exchanged a glance.
“Roman,” Jack said cautiously, “remember there are different rules now.”
Tristan flinched, trying to pull away.
“Did I get the wrong ear?” I murmured, then seized his hair and carved a swirl into the opposite one.
Tristan howled, his body jerking against the restraints.
“Roman!” Jack snapped.
Lee placed a firm hand on Jack’s arm. “Let him handle this in a way that makes sense to him.”
Jack’s jaw tensed. “We could be arrested for this.”
I ignored them both, focusing on Tristan, who trembled beneath my grasp.
“Better?” I asked, my voice devoid of sympathy.
Tristan’s head jerked side to side in rapid, erratic movements, like a rattlesnake’s tail shake.
“N-n-no,” he stammered, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
I stepped before him and tilted my blade to his lips, tracing a mocking smile along his mouth.
Tristan’s scream ripped through the basement. “Stop!”
Thick drops of blood beaded and fell from his chin, spattering onto his lap.
“Then tell me who your father is,” I insisted.
Lee leaned in slightly. “You should talk, Tristan. He’s not bluffing when he says he’s patient.”
I lifted the blade to his brow, angling it toward his eyebrow, preparing to carve it into a devilish point.
Tristan thrashed against his bonds, his desperate cries splintering the air. “Alright! Alright! I’ll tell you what you want to know!”
I stilled, my grip steady but my mind on high alert. Was he stalling? Or had I finally cracked him?
Tristan gasped, his chest heaving. “My father is… Lord Balthazar.”
A chill coiled through me.
I had suspected it. I had known it.
And yet, hearing it out loud sent an eerie certainty down my spine. The basement felt frozen in time like a bomb had just detonated, and we were all trapped in the shockwave, waiting for the dust to settle.
A stunned laugh escaped my lips. “You?” I shook my head, disgust curling in my gut. “You’re nothing but a pathetic idiot.”
“It’s true!” Tristan sobbed, tears carving fresh tracks down his bloodstained face. “And I’ve done nothing but disappoint him.”
I scoffed. “I can see why. You’re a disgrace.”
I flicked my gaze to Lee and Jack.
Lee shrugged, his expression unreadable—like he wouldn’t be surprised if the sky turned green next.
On the other hand, Jack looked as if he wished the floor would swallow him whole, his shoulders hunched inward like a turtle retreating into its shell.
But my mind was elsewhere.
Balthazar.
That name alone set fire to my veins. He was the monster who had tormented Olivia. He had tortured me. And now, his sniveling, pathetic son sat before me, ripe for the kind of pain his father had inflicted.
My fingers twitched with the urge to hurt him. To make him suffer.
Tristan’s breath hitched. “Will you let me go now?”
I let out a dark chuckle, the sound devoid of humor. “Not a chance in hell.” I crouched in front of him, my voice a venomous growl. “If anything, you just earned yourself a harsher punishment.”
I glanced at Lee, silently asking for approval.
Lee shrugged again as if to say, “Do what you want.”
Every instinct I had screamed to deliver retribution, to make Tristan pay, not just for his pathetic betrayal, but for the sins of his father. But another part of me hesitated.
The rules of this time made no sense to me. Back in the arena, there were no second chances, no mercy. You fought, you won, or you died. Simple. But now? Now, I was supposed to navigate laws and consequences I barely understood.
My stomach churned.
Should I follow my heart—burn him down the way Balthazar burned everything he touched? Or should I follow my head—choose restraint, something foreign, something unnatural to me?
Frustration clawed at my insides.
Indecision.
I hated indecision.
And yet, here I stood, paralyzed by it—trapped between my past and a world that refused to make sense.