Chapter 4 #2
Matthew released me from his hold, and I shoved him the rest of the way off with my shoulder.
My brows furrowed, lips taut as he offered his hand to lift me.
I swatted that away, too, as I climbed to a knee, only to be met with resistance again.
Resistance to keep me kneeling. It somehow felt more humiliating than the position I was in earlier as I stared at the man I was going to knock off his fucking pedestal.
Thorne simply shook his head at the man behind me, and his hold vanished completely. But the instant I went to get up, my knuckles whitened, and my desire to kick the shit out of our Commander ignited—his knee drove into my abdomen with enough force to rob me of the very air I breathed.
I doubled over, my hands barely catching me from face-planting into a pool of blood. Breathing hurt as the sharp pain in my stomach intensified, worse than any beating dad had given me, and this son of a bitch had hit me once.
Just when I thought I’d leveled myself, Thorne’s shin slammed into my gut far more relentlessly than when his first strike landed. The force behind it was enough to send me airborne, and when I finally greeted the earth again, I ended up a few feet away from where I’d been seconds prior.
Red splattered from my lips upon impact, rocks digging into my side as dust tainted the air I couldn’t even inhale.
My palms pressed against the disturbed gravel to steady myself as I stumbled to stand.
I couldn’t look pathetic, not after the shit I’d caused with Simon, and definitely not for his satisfaction.
Rocks slid, but I managed to plant my feet firmly enough to lift my head to where he was standing.
God, my side twisted with each lungful, and I wouldn’t be surprised if a rib cracked, hell, ribs.
“I’ll give it to you, Valens,” Thorne crooned, already in front of me again.
“You’re stubborn enough to keep yourself upright, but your snide behavior doesn’t make up for your pathetically feeble body.
” Grabbing the back of my neck, he ripped me toward him before driving his fist into my side.
Leaning forward, he whispered, “I’m sure you’re well acquainted with this concept, considering who your father is, but everyone eventually breaks.
Everyone has a fucking weakness, and weaknesses are some of my favorite things to exploit.
So tell me, Oren. Do you think your mother would be proud of you? ”
For the first time, I stilled, feet slackening as his words punctured deeper than any of his hits. “Don’t.” My side burned, that last hit solidifying the state of my ribs. “Don’t.” Despite it all, my voice wavered because not only did he know about her, but it meant he had told him.
Blinking back the tears from his comment, I wrapped my hand around his forearm to stabilize myself. Not just for the pain, but to ground myself before I spiraled down memories that plagued me with inequity, despair, and failure.
I squeezed my eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the memories from appearing: her lying in a hospital bed, tubes shoved down her nose and throat to aid her breathing as the cancer devoured her frame.
I was her rock, her stability, because dad couldn’t bear to look at her in that state.
Maybe he blamed me for her death, too, because the moment I’d left to grab water, she’d died.
No goodbyes. No farewells—just pieces of her fallen hair clinging to the bed before they tossed a singular white sheet over her face.
I’d failed her. Her one request was for me to be there in the end, and I couldn’t even do that for her.
The person who’d done everything for me with more care than most would ever get to experience.
“Oh?” Thorne growled, ripping me from the ledge I was about to stumble from.
“Did I hit a soft spot? How long was she in the hospital before you stopped going to see her, Oren? Did she know you were a fucking coward before then? Or did it take until her last breath to realize how utterly useless you are?”
Every insult, every brand of anger I harbored refused to spew; I was speechless. If he knew about her, he knew everything. He knew every fuck up of my life, knew the worthless piece of shit I was beneath the superficial exterior I maintained to hold myself back from collapsing.
My nails dug into his skin, but he wasn’t phased as I desperately tried to angle my head to look at him. “One way or another, I’ll kill you, Graves. Fuck you,” I said, but it was a desperate plea to get him to shut up, to leave me the hell alone.
“Oh? Like you promised to stay with your mom?” he hummed with an undercurrent of mockery, shoving me away from him. His words continued, laced with undeniable sarcasm, “Shit, Valens, I may actually believe you.”
A throat cleared. “Graves, the training?”
I flicked my gaze to Matthew, who stared at the two of us with no expression, a mask of neutrality as if this was a common thing to do.
I swiped my thumb over my lips, red staining it, but it was nothing compared to the bleeding of my heart.
I just wanted to get away, but my current state was anything less than operable as I struggled to keep upright.
“Thanks for the reminder, Harveil.” Without moving his golden glower from me, he answered the man who seemed to serve him as if any ground he walked on was worthy of worship. “One mile. Better get to running, Valens. Just like you’ve run your entire fucking life.”
My nails sank into my palms as I curled my fingers to keep from punching his shitty face. I turned my head, unable to say anything because it was all true—every word. Every vile thing he’d accused me of was true, and there was no reason to retaliate when I didn’t deserve shit.
The first step toward the track was brutal. The second? Unyielding, but I refused to falter for someone who devoted himself to breaking others. No wonder Dad chose him. Heartless was too kind a word for the mockery he’d inflicted on me.
Gritting my teeth, I stumbled onto the track, each footfall the pounding of her monitor in my ears.
Just like you’ve run your entire fucking life.