Chapter 24
Sean
Sweat drips down my bare torso as my feet pound against the belt of the treadmill. The clock on the wall says I’ve been here for more than two hours. Jace joined me a bit ago, and he grunts behind me as he squats an impressive amount of weight.
Sunrise is still two hours away, but the light won’t cast out my demons. So, I try to outrun them instead.
Every muscle in my legs burns like hellfire, but I welcome the sensation. It’s the only thing grounding me. The ghost of that God-forsaken island is around every corner, but the hauntings are the worst when I close my eyes. Maybe I should start carrying a crucifix.
The reminders of what I endured are in every throbbing bruise and uncomfortable twinge of my dislocated shoulder.
None of the physical pain compares to the overwhelming guilt I feel every time I see one of Louhi’s injuries.
The evidence of my regrettable decisions is there in her crooked, broken fingers gripping her mug of coffee and the poorly stitched wound on her shoulder that curls into a wicked sort of red smile. My gut twists when I look at her.
How could I have done those things to her? How do I move forward when the burden of my shame feels like too much to carry?
Lou and I haven’t had sex in four days, not since we first got here. I’ve rebuffed all her advances, even when she climbed onto my lap naked last night. I don’t want to admit that I’m afraid.
Unleashing myself on her fucking terrifies me. I want to hurt her, to lose myself in the darkness. I’m desperate to bottle the sound of her screams and drink them down while I lap at the pain etched into her expression. I don’t want to want any of those things. It’s not right, especially not now.
This is why I don’t fucking date.
I increase the speed on the treadmill and pray the punishing pace will atone for my sins. I spent most of my time imprisoned trying to survive. Now that I’m out, I’m forced to contend with everything.
Being on the other side of those iron bars changes things. It was five hundred times worse than anything I could’ve imagined. There’s no amount of training that could’ve prepared me for what I endured.
Now that I’m out, the uncertainty is killing me.
The military is all I’ve known for years, and discovering who I am without that feels…
more daunting than I was anticipating. I’m hardly the first soldier to encounter this dilemma, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
In fact, my particular set of circumstances makes it considerably harder.
Lost in my brutal pace, I don’t notice the machine being unplugged from the wall. I stumble as the belt freezes in place. Gripping the armbars on either side to steady myself, I scowl at the man with the black power cord dangling from his hand. “What the fuck?”
“You’re going to break my equipment if you keep this up.”
My chest heaves, and I have no idea if it’s from the workout or my aggravation. Probably both. Behind me, the sound of heavy plates hitting the floor mats reverberates through the subterranean concrete space. I don’t have to turn to feel Jace measuring this exchange.
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I grit back at the Pakhan.
Hit me, I beg him silently for no good reason. Swing at me so I can swing at you. The clock stops, and my blood rushes between my ears as Viktor arches a dark blond eyebrow. The corner of his mouth lifts when he inclines his head to the side like a predatory cat.
“With what money?” he counters lightly. I think he knows what I want, which is probably why he doesn’t give it to me. Tugging the back of his gray T-shirt, he discards it before positioning himself on the stationary bike, presumably to warm up. I wish he would’ve hit me.
My eyes narrow on him, and my fists clench as I dismount and plug the treadmill back in. I hate that he makes a good point. Whatever money I did have is inaccessible now, and that realization just pisses me off further. Fuck.
The tumultuous guilt and bitter anger roil in my stomach like a violent storm that I don’t have any shelter from. My only choice is to endure it.
Jace meets my eye, shaking his head with a small smirk on his lips. Ignoring him, I jump back on the treadmill, resuming my unrelenting pace. After ten minutes, Viktor dismounts from the bike next to me and rests his forearms against the armbar of my machine.
“Louhi tells me you’re somewhat of a master in the field of information extraction,” Viktor remarks, like torturing people for a living is as normal as being an accountant or electrician.
“Something like that.” Jace snorts over my shoulder, but I keep my gaze locked on the man next to me.
“Tell me, who exactly benefits when you torture yourself?”
I frown at his philosophical bullshit. He taps the bar twice and nods like he just imparted wisdom that might save civilization.
Not civilization, a phantom whispers, just you.