CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE #4
‘Nothing ever taught me to hold up against you, though.’
‘Don’t swerve. Hold up under what?’
‘Baby—’
‘I want to hear you say it, Lachlan.’
‘Why?’
‘So I know you.’
‘You already know me.’
‘Not like this.’
‘It’s ugly shit you shouldn’t have to know.’
‘I want to know it so that when I say I love you, it gets hooks in more of you and that way, you can’t ever think of going away again.’
‘I won’t go away.’
‘Then say it.’
Lachlan exhales roughly. ‘Hold up under torture.’
‘Torture,’ Jules echoes with gentle emphasis. ‘You were tortured. RB, CTT, ARC, all those fancy letters to hide the fact that you were trained to be tortured and not break.’
‘I was trained to kill too.’
‘I already knew that. I didn’t know this. What kind of torture?’
Lachlan shuts down, can’t help it. ‘Pain control, stuff like that.’
‘I’m not a kid. I can handle it.’
‘OK, well, I can’t,’ Lachlan blurts out before he can stop himself. ‘Some things are better left buried. There’s a lot of ways that people break and we were trained to withstand all of them, but not all of us got through it. Two dropped out. One never came back.’
‘I’m sorry.’
Lachlan closes his eyes. ‘No, I’m sorry. I want to tell you, but it’s just hard. There’s ugliness in the world you’ve never seen, and I want to keep it that way.’
‘Does my father know this about you?’
‘RB doesn’t exist on paper, but probably.’
‘How old were you when they trained you for this?’
‘Jules, it’s standard stuff. It happens more than you know.’
‘How old?’
‘Nineteen. Field trained by twenty. Operational by twenty-one.’
‘So what then? How did you get from there to here?’
‘I was discharged.’
‘Why?’
‘Operational restructuring was the official term, but in reality, it was Resolution Branch being quietly dismantled.’ Lachlan’s jaw tightens.
‘They ran psych-evals for reassignment after the shutdown. My profile flagged. Said I wasn’t suitable for reintegration into standard military structure.
’ He laughs once, soft and humourless. ‘So they discharged me. Years of training just to get dumped back into the real world.’
‘What then?’
‘My mom was sick. My cousin had been carrying the medical bills while I was away, so I started asking around for private-sector work. A friend of mine, Jolene Mercer, told me about this place. I applied, got brought in, and, despite my cousin warning me not to, signed the contract.’
‘Did your mom get better?’
‘Yeah, she did. Then she died.’
‘What? When?’
‘Early this year.’
‘You… Lachlan, you never told me.’
Lachlan smiles gently, strokes his face. ‘We were still mortal enemies.’
‘No, we weren’t.’
‘It’s hard for me to share things,’ he admits. ‘This is the most honest I’ve been with anyone, ever.’
‘You took this job to help her and she died?’
‘I took this job to get my cousin out of debt and I did that.’
‘I never…’ Jules hesitates, seems unsure of how to say whatever’s coming. ‘I never thought about you needing the money.’
‘You were a kid. It wasn’t your job to worry about shit like that.’
‘I made it so hard for you back then.’
‘You still do now, you little brat.’
‘I’m being serious.’
‘I know.’
‘Did you cry when she died?’
‘No. It felt,’ he says slowly, saying aloud something he never has, ‘like she’d been dead for years and everyone else was only now just realising it.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Your mom died too,’ Lachlan says, takes care to skirt around anything he swore to Blaire he wouldn’t reveal. ‘Didn’t she?’
Jules nods slowly. ‘Yeah, but I don’t remember her.
Not at all. My father told me she died when I was born.
I’ve only ever seen two pictures of her.
We didn’t look alike.’ He exhales, visibly resetting.
‘Thank you for telling me this. All that you went through, the training stuff…’ Jules trails off into a watery grimace, and Lachlan waits for the hammer to fall.
For Jules to realise how disgusting he really is.
How dirty. Empty. Useless.
All that training for what?
Roman is dead.
‘This was what you meant, isn’t it? When you said, I’m ugly.’
‘Yeah, it is.’
‘Lachlan,’ Jules says, hand on his cheek. ‘Look at me.’
Lachlan tries to, he really does, but his gaze is caught and fixed on the water.
Sharks don’t feel guilt. They don’t hand-wring. They don’t fall apart.
They bring death.
They are the oldest killing machines on the planet.
Older than trees, Mimi told him once.
‘What is it, baby?’ he asks, still can’t look away.
Three holes in his side.
You. Belong. To me.
Say it, Lachlan.
‘Lachlan, look at me.’
Ro, look at me.
‘Lachlan.’ Jules moves his face. ‘Please.’
We’re going home.
‘He was nineteen,’ Lachlan tells Jules, like he didn’t know, like it explains anything, like if God could hear it, he’d finally understand the injustice and send legions of hell awaiting his command. ‘Nineteen.’
‘So were you,’ Jules says. ‘And you’re only twenty-six now, so stop carrying the weight of the fucking world on your shoulders. I love you and I’m not normal and neither is Mimi. We need you. Blaire and Danya cannot replace you. No one can.’
Lachlan wants to cry. ‘I’m tired,’ he confesses to Jules, who kisses his face and holds him tight. ‘I’m so tired.’
‘I know you are. I’m going to take care of you.’
‘’S my job,’ he mutters.
Jules pulls back, wipes away Lachlan’s tears.
He’s so beautiful. So magical. So powerful.
Lachlan never stood a fucking chance.
‘We can take turns.’