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My mind swam with images of Neri.
My heart shattered into pieces that she’d endured a month of believing I was dead. Was she okay? Had Jack and Anna gone to Townsville to collect her? Was she forcing herself to survive and go to uni, or had she been as broken as me and utterly unable to think around the aching, suffocating hole inside?
What about Griffen and our apartment?
What about Billy and Honey, Teddy and Eddie?
What about Lunamare and the freshly stamped company registration that we’d all signed one slightly drunken night via Zoom?
My chest folded in on itself, snapping my healing ribs and using them as pitchforks to stab my heart.
Fucking hell.
I needed her.
I needed her to function, to heal, to survive.
If I never saw her again, I didn’t want this life. I didn’t want to fight because there was nothing to fight for if I didn’t have her.
“I’m taking your long pause to be that you’re thinking about my offer?” Cem asked softly.
The guards didn’t move from their position by the exit. Their eyes never looked away from me, seeing too much, watching the unravelling of my hopes, dreams, and soul.
Swallowing hard, I asked, “W-What would I have to do to prove myself?”
What do I have to do to earn your loyalty so I can turn around and kill you?
Cem studied me for a moment as if he could hear my internal hate. Finally, he scratched his jaw and held out his hand. A guard stepped forward without a word and withdrew the pistol from behind his back. Placing it into his boss’s hand, he backed up and stood by the wall.
Presenting the gun to me on his outstretched palm, Cem said, “Three things. You could prove you are my heir with just three little things.”
I didn’t take the weapon.
I didn’t speak.
Cem fisted the gun and wrapped his finger around the trigger. Aiming it at my chest, he muttered, “Kill a traitor, rape a slave, and transact a business deal with female flesh. Do that and your lessons have already been learned without any tutoring required.”
My mouth went dry.
My left leg burned.
Balling my hands, I choked, “You want me to kill, rape, and traffic?”
“I do.”
“The fact that you think that’s possible shows how insane you truly are.”
“You will do those things, Aslan, mark my words.”
“Not while I’m alive.”
“There are different levels of being alive, my son,” he said quietly. “Don’t make me prove that to you.”
“I will never sell another. I will never kill another. And I will certainly never rape someone.”
“When the day comes that you do, I won’t say I told you so but will merely welcome you with open arms.”
I snarled like a caged animal. Which I was. And caged animals ended up doing stupid things. I wished I was stronger. I wished I stood a chance at taking on three men, guns, and untold guards above us.
I wished I could shoot my way out and fly home to Neri.
Home.
Even if I managed to escape, even if I managed to find Neri in a different country and we vanished under different names, could I do that to her?
Could I be that selfish?
Could I ever look at her again if I do the things Cem says I’ll do?
I froze.
Fuck.
If Cem somehow broke me enough to become him, I would never be able to look Neri in the eyes again.
I would be as bad as Ethan.
I would be worse.
“Choose, Aslan.” Cem waved the gun, the muzzle still pointed at my heart. “All it takes is a single nod.”
The pitchforks in my chest turned into spears and stabbed me in the lungs.
Fire seared through my blood as I fought for a way out.
I could barely walk.
Barely see.
I was weak and mildly feverish, and the adrenaline flowing in my system was enough to wipe out all the energy I’d been able to claw back.
Even if I made smart choices or stupid decisions, this wouldn’t end well for me.
Sorrow crashed coldly as I gathered my embarrassing strength, crossed my arms, and glowered at the gun. “I will never do what you want me to do. I will never be you. No matter what you do to me. No matter how badly you torture me. I will never be your son.”
Cem sighed. “I won’t deny that doesn’t hurt, but...I understand.”
“Are you going to shoot me now?”
Instantly, he lowered the pistol. “I will never shoot you again.” His gaze went to my left calf. “I’m sorry I shot you in the first place. I just...I hope the infection has been stopped and you’ll regain your strength in time.” A thought crossed his face, making him stand taller. “I’ll commission a cane to be carved for you, how about that? A lion’s head with a flowing mane. You can use it while you learn to walk again.”
