Page 99 of Dark Soul

Just what I need.

Somebody else trying to get into my head, when I can’t even stand being in there myself.

The last time he’d spoken to a shrink had been in Syria, right after he’d killed Rourke, his commanding officer. Or rather, a shrink had tried to speak with him to evaluate what had made Dark crack, and whether he was a danger to himself or to others.

He hadn’t spoken to the shrink, because he’d had nothing to say. Or rather, nothing he said would have led to a different outcome for him, and it would have ruined the man’s reputation.

Dark had made Rourke’s wife a widow and left his children fatherless. It wasn’t right that they should be left without the man’s pension, on top of everything else—which was exactly what would have happened if Dark had come clean and exposed the way his commanding officer was attempting to burn an entire village to the ground to cover up the fact that he’d accidentally killed two children.

Rourke’s death had been—if not accidental, because Dark had known when he faced up to the man that it might well end with one of them dead—then at least unpremeditated.

That hadn’t helped him.

If anybody had suspected the truth, they’d been happy to sweep that truth under the rug. Happy to let Dark pay—and he’d been happy to pay, because he’d killed a man. One of his own. A man he’d followed, and had once looked up to. That wasn’t the kind of thing one could recover from.

It wasn’t the kind of thing one should recover from.

Whether he was in prison or free, he should pay for it for the rest of his life.

A shadow came down the stairs. Dark recognized Ash. The man rotated his shoulder and winced, but quickly smoothed out his expression when he saw Dark.

“Are you okay?” Dark asked.

“I’m fine,” Ash said. He moved sideways to pass, but Dark stood in front of him.

“You saved her, and I’m grateful,” Dark said quietly. “As much as I hate the type of man you—“

Ash’s expression paled. “What the fuck do you know about the type of man I am?”

Dark pulled himself to his full height, so he was standing eye to eye with Ash. “Are you saying everything in that report was a lie?”

Ash snarled, his top lip pulling. “I’m saying, you should judge me for my actions. Have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?”

No. He hadn’t.

“Right. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Ash said, pushing through so Dark would have no choice but to step aside or risk slamming into the man’s injured shoulder.

31

* * *

Alexia

Like everything else in Gstaad, the hotel room was lovely.

Thorne had booked her into a junior suite, with windows facing the town on one side and the rugged mountains on the other.

Before leaving, he’d told her it was paid for until Sunday—which meant she had three days to do nothing.

She wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

She should feel something.

After all these years looking for justice, she’d finally gotten it two days earlier. Kvyat wouldn’t be going to prison, but he also wouldn’t be hurting anybody else ever again.

She should feel happy about that.

She should feel glad that Nikolai was with his mother, and that he likely would grow up to be a better person now that his father was out of his life. She’d spoken to him the day before, and it looked like the drug they’d been given had affected him more than it had affected her. He didn’t remember anything about the time they’d been taken, and even less about the way his father had died. That was also a good thing.