Chapter Twenty-One #2
We didn’t speak for a long moment before he muttered, “Why were you wearing the collar of a slave? Why are you so badly beaten? You went in as a Master. You called me from Victor’s personal phone as his friend.” His gaze met mine. “What happened?”
I really didn’t want to take a trip down memory lane, nor did I have the strength to but...this would be the first and last honest conversation I’d ever have with my brother, so I answered him. “I tried playing a game with an opponent smarter than me.”
“Victor wasn’t smart. He was insane.”
“Either way, I lost.”
“Did he...rape you? Do you need to talk to someone? Are you—”
“I told you.” I glowered with as much strength as I could. “I’m fine.”
“Fine? It seems as though our definitions of that word are slightly different.” He scoffed. “You’re practically a corpse.”
“I’m still breathing.”
Unfortunately.
He eyed me. “Barely.”
Physical pain kept building but the emotional pain of losing Ily made me breathless. It hurt to breathe. To exist without her. To have images of her dead on the grass with Peter dead beside her.
I couldn’t recall her laughing because she’d hardly ever laughed on that despicable island.
I couldn’t remember her happy because we’d never gotten the chance.
That was the saddest part.
The hardest part.
We’d met in a nightmare, and we’d never gotten free.
And now I was awake and all I wanted to do was go back into the dream where I could find her.
Rubbing my bleeding heart, I forced myself to hide the depth of my despair.
Soon, I wouldn’t have to feel anymore. Soon, I was going to a place where discomfort and grief couldn’t hurt me. The sooner Q left me alone, the sooner I could join Ily and Peter and all the other jewels who’d lost their lives.
A question popped into my head. Utterly pointless now but still...curiosity itched. “Where was Victor’s island, by the way?”
Q stiffened. “A private atoll off the coast of Portugal.”
“Portugal? But we flew four hours to get there.”
“He probably flew longer than needed to disorientate whoever was on board.”
“Sounds like something he’d do.”
“Why did he collar you?” Q asked quietly. “Why did he hurt you so badly?”
I laughed on a painful exhale. “Let’s just say, I didn’t agree with the initiation ceremony.”
“What did that entail?”
“Killing.”
He pursed his lips and fell silent again, his pale green gaze churning with yet more questions.
Before he could ask any of them, I ran a hand over my face, dislodged the faint tracks of tears, and willed my mourning, throbbing body to stay alive for a little longer. “Speaking of Victor, I’m assuming he’s dead?”
He nodded slowly. “The slaves were...creative in his murder. I didn’t stand around to watch since I needed to get you to a doctor, but Franco—the team leader of the men still on that island—has relayed what happened.”
“Tell me.”
He eyed me as if assessing if I’d pass out again. “Perhaps we should wait until—”
“Now, Q.”
“You’ve only just woken. We’ve spoken too much as it is.” He shifted toward the door. “I’ll get the doctor to check on you and then we’ll—”
“No,” I hissed. “Now. Not later. Now. Tell me what happened to Victor. I need to know.”
Raking a hand through his short hair, he nodded. “Fine. But if you pass out again—”
“Just tell me, for Christ’s sake.”
Dropping his arm, he sniffed. “I’ve heard he was missing all ten fingers and toes. His cock was found in a fountain. His eyes are believed to have been carried away by crows. I can’t say for sure what killed him, but...he was barely recognisable. He had stab wounds. To every part of him.”
“And the jewels?”
“The slaves?”
I nodded and rolled my bare wrists, ignoring my new cast. “You cut my collar and cuffs off. Did you do the same for them?”
“It was the first thing I did. They’re all free, and those strong enough and not too injured have already been flown back to their families.”
“And those who aren’t?”
“Some are convalescing in rooms around my estate. I have three doctors providing around-the-clock care. A few others are in the hospital in town. Some are still unconscious and are unidentified as yet.”
I swallowed hard, doing my best not to feel the sting of sorrow. Soon, that sting would be gone forever.
Ily.
Where is she?
Gagging on heartbreak, I couldn’t bring myself to picture or ask about Ily’s remains. The memory of her so lifeless and—
Shoving such agony away, I asked coldly, “Peter’s body? What did you do with it?”
“I don’t know which one was Peter.”
“His real name is...was...Paavak Chauhan.” I wasn’t prepared for the dagger to my chest. “H-He was the man lying beside Il—”
A tidal wave of despair cut me off.
I couldn’t.
Fuck, I couldn’t say her name again.
Just like when I’d finally learned what her name meant, this time I felt the loss of all the years we’d never have together.
“I wasn’t there to do the cleanup. However, the deceased have been sent to the morgue,” Q murmured. “I’m waiting until the slaves...eh, the jewels, are mentally strong enough to identify them. Once I have the names of the dead, I’ll contact their loved ones and ensure they’re reunited.”
Silence fell between us.
I almost offered to identify Peter myself. To go and hold Ily’s cold, dead hand where she lay all alone in a grave-shaped fridge.
But...I couldn’t.
I couldn’t see her like that.
And Peter? His body didn’t matter anymore.
His soul was out there. Most likely with Ily. And I wanted to join them more than anything.
Looking Q up and down, I hated that we were strangers who shared blood.
We’d both hurt each other. Helped each other.
But we’d reached a truce, and a surge of guilt made me ask, “Is your son okay?”
He smiled the same way Victor used to—sinister and sharklike, yet from him, it gave me comfort instead of chills.
“He’s fine. I wanted to spare him the darker side of life for as long as I could, but...
he’s a Mercer. He saw what we’re capable of.
” Throwing a look at the empty doorway, he lowered his voice.
“Don’t tell my wife that I told you but...
he...well, he might have helped at the end. ”
“Jesus Christ, don’t let him become like us, Q.” I balled my hands. “Fuck’s sake, no one should have to live with this disease.”
“He’s not like us.” He snapped straight. “He has a gentle heart. A kind heart. He doesn’t crave pain. But he’s brave enough to deliver pain if necessary.”
My energy levels flagged; I fought the undertow of sleep. “In that case, I’m glad he can stand up for himself. Maybe if I’d learned that, I wouldn’t have blocked everything out. I wouldn’t have blocked you out. I would’ve been...different.”
“I did wonder if you remembered me when you first appeared last year. You showed no signs of it, though.”
“Turns out the mind is pretty good at forgetting terrible things.”
“Ain’t that the fucking truth.” He smirked. A strained pause before he added, “Well, you’re home now. We’ll catch up when you’re stronger. After all, we have a lifetime to share.”
I smiled and nodded, letting him believe I’d still be here come morning.
“Thank you...for coming for them,” I said, my voice thick and hoarse. “I’m sorry I failed in getting them out, but I’m glad they’re safe. Those who survived at least.”
My ribs grew thorns and pierced my heart.
Ily...
Q sat heavily on the bed. “I’m just sorry I was so late. That you had no one.”
“I had someone.” I shrugged. “And it wasn’t your fault.”
He scoffed. “Whose fault was it? Who sent you there? Who forced you—”
“You didn’t force me. If anything, you gave me a purpose.
A purpose I wasn’t strong enough to live up to, but it’s over now.
” Pushing myself up, the room swam with familiar light-headedness.
Wires that I hadn’t noticed fed into my veins, keeping me alive all while I refused to stay that way much longer.
I had the sudden urge to yank the needles out of me.
I was ready.
I’d done my part.
Victor was dead. His island was now known to Q. He’d go after the other Masters who weren’t there that day. He had the skills to crack into Victor’s database and go hunting for all those who deserved to die.
And me...I’m done.
“Look.” I sighed. “I appreciate everything, but...I would really like to rest now. Do you mind?”
His face turned cold and unreadable.
I frowned.
Now, what’s his problem?
“Go away.” I shooed him with a weak wrist. “You can ask your questions another day.”
“Another day, huh?”
The edge in his tone. The harsh suspicion.
I scowled and said nothing.
He glowered back, rummaging through my secrets the longer we stared.
The silence grew too heavy.
He blurted, “Did you love her?”
I froze. Protective anger billowed as I stared him down. “Who?”
“Don’t play that game. You know who I mean.” He never looked away. “Did you love her?”
I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I found myself confessing, “With every useless part of me.”
“Did she love you?”
“None of your fucking business.”
“It is my business, so answer the damn question. Did she love you in return?”
My chest imploded.
All I could see and hear and taste was Ily. The way she held me when I broke. The way she climaxed as we played. The way she accepted me...every miserable, murderous piece.
And now, she’s gone...
Baring my teeth, I snarled, “Doesn’t matter. She’s dead.”
Ah fuck, I almost went into cardiac arrest.
I wanted to go into cardiac arrest.
It’ll save me from finishing it.
Glancing at the door, he bit his bottom lip as if problem-solving whatever little issue he had. Bracing his shoulders, he said, “Answer me. Did this girl—the same girl you tried to shoot yourself over—love you in return?”
“Screw you and screw your questions.” My temper reached its tipping point.
“And before you ask for the hundredth time. Yes, alright. Yes, she loved me. I still don’t understand how or why, but she did.
Thanks so fucking much for rubbing my face in the fact that she’s the only one who’s ever cared about me, and now she’s—”