“What conclusion is that?” I asked, still doing my best to focus on the conversation, and not the agony slowly but surely engulfing me.
“That if there is no one and nothing else for her to love, then she must love me.”
The audacity of his statement fanned the flames of my anger, the intensity of my emotions almost as searing as the burn crawling up my legs. The very idea that he could engineer Miranda's love, as if it was something he could isolate and manipulate, repulsed me.
Alarm surged, sharper than any flame.
He wasn’t just targeting me. The realization chilled me to my core before a blaze of protectiveness roared to life. The thought of anyone touching them, hurting them because of me... It turned my stomach, leaving a metallic taste of dread in my mouth.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, noting my response. “It may not come to that. Her family is safe… for now.”
The veiled threat, so casually delivered, was meant to unnerve and destabilize.
Instead, it crystallized a resolve within me, a burning need to protect and preserve what was most precious. Not just Miranda, but her family.
In that moment, amidst the searing pain and the struggle against the chains that bound me, a strategy formed, born of desperation.
“You think she'll love you? I’ve got that woman wrapped around my little pinky. She spends most of her time with me. Who do you think she really cares about?” I forced out, my voice a blend of mockery and defiance, aiming to provoke, to distract Aten from his darker designs. Every word was a battle, a conscious effort to keep talking, keep taunting, despite the agony that threatened to consume me.
Could I really convince him that Miranda loved me more than her own immediate family? Probably not, but fuck all if I wasn’t going to try. This vain prick hated any kind of rivalry, and I planned to press every godsdamn button until he forgot about Jamal and Mama Jean.
“And you think she’ll want you? Over me?” I snorted. “Please. You may have used your little cheat code with the internet, but we both know I’m older and stronger than you where it counts.”
Fire literally flashed in his eyes.
“Soon Miranda and all the world will see how superior I am.” That spot under his left eye twitched with annoyance.
I knew what I was about to say would really be a stick in his craw and it would come with a lot of pain, but he needed to forget about going after Miranda’s family.
A wheezing laugh escaped me even as the burning blanketed my torso, eating me up like thousands of fire ants. “She won’t think you’re superior if she finds out your dick is smaller thanmine. Not to mention, I’ve always been the prettier of the two of us.”
Aten’s nostrils flared, and that spot under his eye twitched double time.
Bullseye. I’d hit my mark.
At that, the rest of me went up in flames. My screams were eaten up by the fire around me until consciousness eventually left me.
Water.Oh fuck, I needed water, liquid, hydration, anything to replenish my body. The drought inside me was worse than any pain fire could inflict.
Metal clanked, and my sore limbs moved under the heavy, yet shifting chains.
Forcing my eyes open, I gazed upon the most beautiful hallucination I’d ever seen.
“Miranda,” I rasped over a bone-dry throat. “I won’t let him get them. He’ll have to kill me first.”
I wanted to say more, but I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t tell the beautiful mirage that I promised even if Aten sent me back to the cradle, I’d force myself to revive as soon as possible to protect Jamal and her mother-in-law.
“Shh,” she hushed, eyes tense with worry as she unshackled me from the wall. I dropped. The beautiful Miranda mirage caught my arm over her shoulder, but the impact knocked all the air from my lungs. My body crunched like a dry husk.
Aman came to my side, catching my other arm. He was short, Mexican, with a thin black mustache over his mouth. His dark brown eyes were serene and serious, as if he’d never heard a joke in his life.
“I’ve been away so long you got another boyfriend?” I complained to my fantasy woman, my words crackling like my lungs.
“Shut up, beast boy,” Miranda said, using her old nickname for me.
It wasn’t an illusion. She was really here. She came for me.
She went on, “Be nice to Javier, he’s working overtime to help us out. So say thank you and be quiet.”
