Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14237 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 71(@200wpm)___ 57(@250wpm)___ 47(@300wpm)
For all his confessions, that one told me the most about Henri.
He was broken.
In motherfucking pieces and, in all honesty, those sort of fractures weren’t fixable.
I knew from experience.
I’d clawed my way through my late teens and most of my twenties alone. Hiding who I truly was, drowning beneath nightmarish urges, begging the blackness in my soul to stop.
I was well acquainted with the allure of peace whispering on the promises of suicide. I knew how such offers of quietness and contentment could seduce.
I’d contemplated it a few times.
But each time I sank into such self-pity, I threw myself deeper into my work. I saved more slaves. I rescued those that’d been hurt by men like me. I did my best to erase my shame by giving back those lives that were ruined because of bastards that deserved to be dead.
But…we were at different stages of our war.
I fought mine on a daily basis and ensured I won every single night.
I was seasoned at this battle but Henri…
He’s only just begun.
And that made him my enemy because it took every fucking shred to stay human, each and every day, and Henri already housed the beast. It’d sunk its fangs into him and no matter how much he thought he was winning, he wasn’t.
It’s only a matter of time.
Not if but when he killed someone.
And…I can’t let that happen.
I shifted on my wingback.
A gun was hidden in one of the leather-bound editions across the library. All it would take was a silenced little pop and Henri could have the peace he deserved, and I could ensure he didn’t hurt anyone else.
I went to stand.
Henri muttered, “My bargain to myself was…I’d ask for help before it was too late. From the only person I have left. So…I’m asking you. Brother to brother, stranger to stranger…c-can you help me?”
My legs refused to move.
Henri never looked away.
The imploring desperation in him made my hardened heart kick. I shut down any empathy I had toward him. I nodded, eyeing up the book that housed my murder weapon. “I’ll help by—”
“Q?” The double doors cracked open as Tess stuck her head in. “Is everything okay?”
Fuck, not now.
She always did have the worst fucking timing.
Always messing with my plans by making me fall in love with her and proving I wasn’t so unredeemable, after all.
My eyes narrowed on my delectable wife. “Not now, Tess.”
“But—”
“I said…not now.”
Her eyes fought mine. I had no doubt I’d get a tongue-lashing later, but I didn’t want her hearing this. Seeing this. Not because she couldn’t tolerate the darkness Henri spoke about but because she’d cajole me into letting him stay.
She’d force me to welcome him into the family.
She’d command me to give him somewhere safe.
She’d do that because…he was me.
This fucking stranger was me.
And it twisted me up in ways I didn’t want to acknowledge.
I want him gone.
Now.
“I’ll be out in a minute, Tess. Go.”
Clenching her teeth, she paused for a moment then obediently drew the doors closed, leaving us alone again.
Sighing, I looked at my half-sibling. Perhaps killing him would be an overreaction. Eviction would have to do. “Look, I’m sorry for your loss and for everything you’re dealing with, but you wasted a trip coming here. It’s time for you to leave—”
“Wait!” Henri shot to his feet, towering over me where I sat. His black shirt and jeans sucked up the light in the room like a dead star.
Ever so slowly, calculatingly, I stood until our eyes were in line, our hearts at the same height. “Don’t ever think you can command me in my own home, boy.”
“Boy? I’m only eight years younger than you.”
“Just because you saw my date of birth online doesn’t mean—”
“I know because my mother told me you were sixteen when you shot your father. That you freed them. That you did everything you could to get them home to their own families.”
I froze.
Fuck, how much had this woman told him?
Henri stepped into me, our chests almost touching. “Don’t send me away. I’m not here for your money. I know you can’t cure me. I know you’d probably rather kill me than accept me. And I know you have no reason to trust me but…I need to belong somewhere. I need…someone. Just a single person to hold me accountable. To keep me human.”
Taking a step back, he tried to tame the urgency in him but failed. “I don’t even know what I’m asking for just…I can’t go back. I can’t keep doing this—living like this. My own mother hated me. My own brother can’t stand me. I’ve tried to be good. I obey the rules. I pretend to be like others. I do whatever it takes to fit in but…I’m done. I don’t have the strength to dream such sickening things anymore. I barely exist because I’m fucking petrified I’m going to slip and hurt someone. I hate myself. I hate what I am, and I hate that I’m so fucking alone.”