8. Ion
8
ION
W hat the fuck was that?! What the fuck was Cezar thinking?
My crazy little brother shocked the shit out of me. Not because of the knife to my eye, not because of the threat of violence against me. No, all of that was normal. It was that look, that smile in his eyes, that I’d never seen before. That look of utter possessive worship.
This was dangerous—especially with how insane Cezar was. I’m sure he could come up with a million reasons to be obsessed with that woman, and once he was obsessed, he would be like a stubborn crocodile. Grabbing onto her with jaws of steel, making it so that no one could sink their teeth in. He would rather tear her apart than give her up.
My body vibrated at just the thought of them together right now. It made no sense. He was never very interested in women, and since he was to be our executioner, our father instead invested his time into sharpening him as a tool instead of a man. Still, this one woman has turned his whole head around.
What was it about him that she enjoyed? Did she like not knowing what would come out of his mouth next? Did she find his antics funny? Wait until she experiences one of his bad days; I bet it won't be so funny anymore.
Biting my lip, I remembered the flash of relief in her eyes when she saw him. I bet she thought of him as some big, devoted psycho puppy, but she’ll get a rude awakening soon. An episode was never far away from his mind. Not that I blamed him.
After that one drunken night with Nicu, the only time he got lost in a bottle, he told me what happened to him. A shudder ran down my spine. A flood of guilt filled me, knowing that I wouldn't have come out of that with only voices in my head and a blood lust. Deep in the crevices of my soul, I know that it was just the luck of the draw. I wasn't born third, and I was relieved about it, which just made me feel shittier. We were a complicated family.
Then there was that woman. The one I couldn't get under my thumb stirred something inside me.
She was far from the most beautiful woman I’ve seen, and I’ve seen and fucked so many, but something about her defiant calm spirit called to me and made me pay attention. In more ways than one.
Those angry amber eyes shone brightly underneath me, calling me to dive in to escape the choking world around me. A magic twinkled in her defiance, in her resistance to me. It was intriguing. Alluring.
Before I could unravel the mystery of my thoughts on the woman, fire raced up and down my body, hot magma running through my veins, making it hard to breathe. My fingers worked like they had a mind of their own, scratching at my forearm like fire ants were biting up lines inside me.
Banging my head on the nearest wall, needing the pounding in my skull to stop, I collapsed against it. What I needed was something to rip me out of my body so I couldn't feel anything. These constant reminders of what it craved were too much. I just wanted to feel normal again. The answer was clear to me but not what Nicu wanted to hear. I needed more fucking coke, but that wasn’t something his majesty wanted in the house.
And why not? Wasn't I the head's son too? An Azadian, too? Didn’t I deserve some fucking respect? Some say how this goes.
Something dripped down my head, and I swiped at it. Snarling at the disgusting amount of sweat on my hand, I knew something needed to change. My body wasn't handling this well; he’d tasked me with that infuriating woman. It was all too much for me. I needed something to take the edge off, to bring me clarity.
You're just like her. Beautiful, stunning, and a fool. An addict. A whore for the right price.
Memories. Fucking stupid memories that popped up at the most annoying times. I needed the fucking drugs. I needed them to keep me sane. I didn't go through what Cezar did, but that didn't mean I wasn't trapped in my version of hell. That's why I needed to numb my mind and make it all dormant. That way, I could do my job for this family. Can’t Nicu see that?
No. Not the golden boy. The heir. The one who was the man father always wanted him to be. Cold, authoritative, strong. A leader of men with an iron fist to go with the jagged, thorny crown.
Then what was I made for?
My father's voice echoed in my skull. The familiar voice was devoid of feelings, as if he was talking about the weather or getting rid of a fly. She served her purpose. She gave me a beautiful son who will make all the loose lips talk because beauty is a weapon. Something she never really understood. That weak, idiotic whore. She was only worth two things: to catch the envy of others and to provide me with another tool for the Azadian toolbox, and that she did.
Pain squeezed in my chest, making it hard to breathe. No. No. I don’t fucking want this. I don’t want to think about his words, his reaction when I told him she was dead. I don't want to think about her—the one who escaped from this world and left me with a demon. So, I became a demon because of her and her weak will.
My mouth went dry. Swiping my tongue around my mouth didn't help the feeling go away. Liquid. Drink. Cold. Bolting for the kitchen, my mind was focused on one thing.
Yanking the refrigerator door open, I grimaced as I saw nothing but water and a few sodas. He couldn't even get me a fucking beer? Was he trying to kill me?
Fuck it . Snagging the red can, I popped the top and let that disgustingly sugary drink flow down my throat. Water should've been my first choice, the choice my older, better brother would’ve made, but I needed to replace the craving my body begged for with something else at the moment, and sugar was the best avenue for me.
I gobbled that sweet tar down like it was my last meal. Crushing the can as soon as it was empty. It had taken the edge off, but I knew I would hit another craving soon. Grabbing another can, I turned around in time to see Nicu, arms crossed and staring at me like the disappointment I was.
“Fucking what?” I snarled. He can’t judge me. This was his fucking fault. If he had just let me get some more blow, I would be right as rain. I could’ve already cracked the woman by now, for sure.
The feel of her body underneath mine, my grip tightening on her wrists over her head, that sharp look of disgust, and even sharper tongue. I was about to get hard all over again thinking about it, and that threw me off. The fact that I liked it. Wanted more of her venomous words aimed in my direction. I wanted her to keep yelling at me, telling me off with my dick inside of her. Just the thought of her angry face screwed up in lust had me at a half-chub.
“How did it go? Did you get any information?”
My muscles clenched, getting twitchy again, and I cracked open the second can and took a slow, long sip before I answered. “Working on it.”
Leaning back against the counter to hide my body’s trembles, I turned back on my cocky asshole side and smirked at him while raising my can in salute. “It's only a matter of time. How long should I stretch it out, a few hours? If you give me half a day, she will sing like a canary, telling me even her ancestors' backgrounds.” I needed to know how long I had to keep up this charade.
Nicu’s eyes narrowed, his gaze assessing me from toe to nose. He was always assessing the problem and trying to find a solution. My jaw tightened as they groaned under my grip. I was always the problem he needed to fix, the person he needed to help, to keep tabs on. Cezar just gets a job and he lets him run free, run a muck. Cleaning up after his messes and claiming it under the family name as a warning to others, but me, no. I was the one that he had to keep an eye on. Make sure I didn't fuck anything up.
Worthless. Idiotic whore.
“He didn't say.” His mouth pinched, eyes going hard, giving me a rare look into how upset he was, how pissed off it made him that our father still controlled us, even out here. His dissatisfaction amused a small part of me. What can I say? I’m petty like that.
“I think he's not telling me something.” His left eye began to twitch, and my amusement disintegrated into dust just like that. I sometimes seem to forget that our father was a dick to all of us, not just me, and that we all had fucked up ways of dealing with it. Mine was drugs, Cezar’s was blood, but Nicu… he needed control, and I bet right now he felt very out of control.
Even with that demon of a voice calling in the back of my head, demanding that I tell my brother to lift this ridiculous ban, I knew this wasn't the time. No. If I tried now, he would just fight me even harder.
Slamming the rest of my drink, needing that sugar rush to keep me level, I clapped my hand on his shoulder. “So it seems we have some time to blow off steam. I saw a pool table in the back. Care for a game?”
Unimpressed, he lifted his brow at me until I followed with an offer I knew he couldn't refuse: “I’ll let you set up the whole game, rack 'em and everything, not a single peep out of me.” His eyes lit up before he turned toward the room in the back. I knew his controlling, compulsive mind couldn't pass up the opportunity.
As much as I was jealous of my brother and how our father valued him for being the firstborn, I also knew he didn't escape his wrath either. The few times he would take Nicu to his office, I didn't see him for days until he showed up with a few yellow-looking spots underneath his clothes. He did his best to hide it, but I knew. He might not be living in the same hell as me, but we were both treading lightly in those fiery pits, even if they were in different circles.
Nicu tried his best and was still trying his best to do right by us brothers, always trying to look out for us, even if it was controlling and overbearing. It wasn't completely his fault. No, the three of us were just the demons crafted by the devil himself, sharing in that communal misery of our circumstances. It was our lot in life; we all accepted it.
Following my brother, my heart felt a little lighter, but that itch in the back of my head started growing again. Could I sneak some blow in without him knowing?
The clanking of the balls being racked broke my train of thought, and I saw my brother moving each ball around so that all numbers would be shown and perfectly centered. I wanted to make some snide comment to get under his skin, but I promised to keep my lips shut.
After he took about ten minutes to rack the damn balls, he went to the cues and chalked them, but of course, the chalk had to be somewhat even. By the time he was done, my knee was bouncing off the wall, my mind screaming at him to just start the fucking game, but I was on edge, and I took that in as a factor.
“You first,” he finally spoke, and I exhaled.
“Fucking finally,” I grumbled, knowing he could hear me even if I said it low, but he didn't say anything in response, just stood there waiting for me.
Leaning over the table, I positioned the cue, getting ready to split this table in two with my break shot. Eyeing the ball just right, I tried to position the tip of the cue, but while hand balancing, the stick kept twitching, so the tip refused to stay still.
A burning embarrassment heated my neck as I tried a different hold and had the same problem. Nicu’s eyes were on me like a hawk, so I lifted the cue like a spear and stabbed it into the cue ball with all my might.
Crack . The ball flew and slammed into the first ball, causing the rack to split so fast it was like watching multiple pin balls bouncing around. Two stripes had sunk in the corner pockets, and I called out for stripes, going again to see if I could make another angel shot like that.
Drinking the last of my soda, I moved around the table, trying to find the best angle when Nicu asked in that soft, authoritative tone. “When are you going to have another crack at the woman?”
“In the morning. It's already too late, and she seemed on edge because of our little violent show earlier.” It was a lie, but he didn’t need to know it. “I was also interrupted before I could get to the good stuff.” Throwing Cezar under the bus would be the best bet for me to get Nicu off my back and onto his.
“Ah? So he’s back. He made quick work of him then.” It was all he had to say? Of course, because it was Cezar.
I had half a mind to tell him how Cezar acted with her, how he was out of control, out of his mind, fucking all of this up for us, but the words didn’t form as I took my shot.
I missed. Surprise surprise. It's just how my luck was going these days. Nicu walked around the table, eyeing his position to take his turn. “I'm trying to get some information on the mother through my contacts at home, but it might take a while, and I want to know why he wanted that woman so badly.”
Hearing the concern in his normally stoic, drab voice was strange, and the words flew out of my mouth before thinking. “Maybe he’ll want the daughter instead? If it's a money thing, she can work off the debt. If it's a revenge thing, she should be able to pay for it with her blood. You know how these things go.”
Even though I was the one saying the words, making the suggestions, calling it out so casually, my stomach dropped. If it were a revenge thing, there would be nothing I could do, nothing that could keep her safe from our father's retribution. It would be merciless and cruel. He would get his pound of flesh one way or another, and the thought of him being the one to close her eyes left a sour taste in my mouth.
That's why I was hoping it was a money issue; then, I could buy her for myself, clear her debt, and have her chained to me. I wonder what would freak Cezar out more, the fact that I possessed his toy or that I could please her more than he ever could.
“Like I said, I need to know what he’s planning before I tell him anything about her, and the best way to do that is to learn why he wanted the mother in the first place. Depending on how badly he needs a replacement for his plans will determine if we take her with us or just kill her.” He hit the ball, which grazed the solid blue ball next to the side pocket, knocking it in before it easily sank into the right pocket. Fucking lucky shot.
“What are you going to do about Cezar?” My brother was already looking like a love-sick puppy; there was no way he would let this happen without a fight.
“I will send him to another job before anything happens.” He lined up his next shot, and bam, the ball cracked, and two more solid balls were knocked into the pockets.
His flippant tone made me realize how much he understood about Cezar’s attachment. He thought she was just a distraction, a toy for him, but when I left her room, I saw that deadly obsessive twinkle in his eye. “And once he comes back?”
Nicu looked up, his face never changing as he said in earnest. “She ran away and fell into the wrong hands. Unfortunately, we were not able to save her in time.” It was a good lie, but a lie nonetheless. The kind that looked so much like the truth coming from him that even I would believe it.
“The life we live is a dangerous one. This will be a good lesson for him.” Bending over, he positioned the cue just right and ricocheted the ball off the back, hitting another ball that knocked two more solid balls in.
Normally, I wouldn't care what lies Nicu told Cezar; he always only did it for his good, but just now, I saw the face I had been given many times over. The brick wall of nothingness. How easy it was for him to lie to us, his brothers, the men born and bred to be by his side, it was unsettling. How many times has he lied like this to me?
“I don't think it will go the way you think it will,” and I meant it. Cezar has never been this deep with another person. Hell, he wasn't even this deep with his brothers, who he tortures and murders people for. As time moved, he was just getting deeper and deeper, and at this point, I didn't know what he would do if he lost her, and that was a scary thought.
Nicu’s eyes turned into slits, his tone low and firm, “And what do you think is going to happen if Father wants her? No matter how the dice rolls, it’s spades for that woman.” A far-off look took over his face, lost in horrifying memories because that's the only kind we have. “It will be a kindness for us to care for her here.”
He turned away, taking another shot as I looked towards her room. He was right. If my father wanted her, it would be better if we cared for her before we left. We could call it an accident. As Nicu said, our life was dangerous. Sure, we would take a beating once we got home, but at least I wouldn't have to see what he would do to her.
A familiar twitch ran up my spine, and that itchy feeling in the back of my head came to the forefront. Why the fuck was I worried about her when I needed to be worried about me? I knew the aches were next, and I turned to face Nicu to ask him if I could please get some more blow, but his cue smacked onto the table, causing me to jump.
“Games over.”
I looked around to see all the solid balls were gone. Before I could get a word out, he threw a bag at me so hard I barely caught it. Looking down, I saw it was a bag full of those miniature Reese's cups and a bottle of pills shoved inside. What the fuck was this about?
“Eat some of them now with lots of water. Then take the benzos to sleep it off.” He picked up his cue and mine, putting them on the rack on the wall before collecting all the balls.
I stood there and watched him, pretending not to understand what he meant. After a few seconds, he exhaled. “You look like shit. The sugar will help curb some of the cravings, but you need to sleep, and those drugs will do the trick.” Did he just make his own fucked up version of a withdrawal kit? Of course, he did. Of course, he knew exactly how to keep me functional, keep me from fucking this all up for us.
Unable to stand still, I shifted from foot to foot, stuck in this limbo land of appreciation, disappointment, and anger. I wanted to say thank you and sorry to him. Sorry, I’m such a fuck up, but my lips were sealed shut. We Azadians didn’t say sorry, not for anything.
One thing was made clear: he would not change his mind about getting me the boost I wanted.
My hands balled into fists, and a running waterfall of anger filled me. I dreamed that shit up like I did when I was a kid facing my father. Letting that anger crash into that impenetrable wall of self-loathing I could always count on. “Fine.” I stomped off, going to do what he said so he wouldn't show up in the middle of the night and force the pills down my throat.
“Oh, I’ll be out in the morning, so make sure the woman eats.”
Growling out my acknowledgment, I shut the door to my room and threw the bag onto the bed. Fuck him. Fuck him right up his asshole. He doesn't know what I'm going through, what I need. He just wants to put a fucking Band-Aid on me and get back to it.
Glaring down at the bag, I licked my lips in fury. I don't know how he knew, but these were my favorite… I hadn't eaten anything in a while. I was torn between my stomach and my brother winning, and it was a hard fight until my stomach grumbled.
Fuck!
Plopping on the bed, I snagged the bag and shoved my hand inside to get a handful of those peanut-filled chocolates. My door opened, and I shot up to see Nicu throwing two bottles of water on the bed and leaving just as quickly as he came.
I stared at that water like it was enemy number one, but as soon as I downed a few pieces, I desperately needed something to drink.
After cursing him in my head while eating, my body felt like ants were crawling all over, not letting me get a moment's peace. Snagging the pill bottle, I threw two back and guzzled down the rest of my water.
As my eyes drifted shut, a blurry vision of a woman smiling down at me with wild, dark, wavy hair and the scent of flowers drifted around me, lulling me to sleep.