And for my dad, it might as well be a vow he gives me.
I do not wish to know what will happen to him. In fact, I don’t want to hear about him at all from now on.
For if we talk about him, he has importance and presence in our lives, and he doesn’t get to have that.
I nod, my throat clogged, and, without sparing Jonathan a glance, I walk toward my mom and remove my jacket, throwing it over her before picking her up and going toward the entrance.
While Jonathan bellows, “No! Anastasia is mine! Where are you taking her? Get back here, you bastard!”
I do not turn back, I don’t acknowledge his words, I do not give him any satisfaction.
Instead, I finally free us from his torment.
Forever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“Torture is an art form I’ve learned through the years, mastered for decades, and explored in different variations with anyone who I found fit.
Most people will say I’m a monster or a psycho.
However, in life, nothing is ever that simple, as evil and goodness are in the eye of the beholder.”
Lachlan
Lachlan
Classical music echoes when I enter my dungeon, carefully designed to bring the most pain to my victims, where they would suffer greatly before going to hell.
These walls heard so many cries of despair, they might as well reek of them.
It even holds the bite and scratch marks of those who begged to be saved, and that inspires only laughter in me, for who could ever respect them after that?
Granted, I've built such a strong brotherhood over the years that I haven’t participated in torture much lately, but a wolf is always a wolf.
Even if he falls in love and builds a family, hunting instincts don’t go anywhere.
Especially when his cub suffers at the hands of someone like Jonathan.
A whimper interrupts the music, and I look at the man, his hands and feet stuck together and nailed to the wall as he’s naked. Blood dripping from his various wounds mixes with the sweat and tears, while his eyes are filled with so much hurt it's a wonder they don’t bulge.
He has no idea what true pain entails, but he will learn.
My child. My baby boy—our little warrior.
He thought he could hide the cracks in his soul from me, fooling me into believing he forgot about his past, but I recognized his agony because I shared a similar one of my own.
I knew his dark desires would need an outlet, but he’d never come to me. That’s why I asked Arson to guide him and teach him even though I’ve been overseeing every lesson.
Watched him build his dungeon and knew about all the things he participated in while searching for that fucker.
Sometimes our children’s greatest misconception is that their parents do not know or understand them, but if you love your child, you see right through them.
However, he wouldn’t talk about the rapist, and without any information, it was hard to run my own investigation.
Besides, it was Levi’s right.
Jonathan whimpers again and then cries out when he pulls at his hands, but they stay unmovable. “Just kill me,” he begs, licking his chapped lips and wincing. “I deserve death.”
