Why did I even care? Perhaps it was because I sympathized with him, understood the nuances of the perpetual anguish in his faded blue irises. Or maybe it was because I was breaking myself.
Ultimately, like called to like, and he and I were far too similar than I even wanted to acknowledge. Recognizing it meant that Andrew Valens had sniffed out my remaining weakness: the very idea of breaking someone who was just as innocent and lively as I’d once been.
And I just… Icouldn’t.
Inhaling deeply, I stilled once I reached the large mahogany doors. My fingers curled inward, and I basked in the sensation of my nails digging into my flesh, the only thing that was ever capable of preventing my hands from trembling. Drawing out my exhale, I lifted my arm, knocking on the door with the same rhythm I’d mastered during my nearly decade of servitude.
“Enter,” came the voice I’d heard slaughter men with a single command. A voice I’d imagined silencing countless times, but there’s a difference between reality and ignorance.
My palm flattened against its smooth surface, and I nudged the door open to reveal the perfectly curated mirage behind it.
General Valens’ office was more than put together; it was pristine. The concept of life vanished as soon as you crossed the threshold, every speck of dust a mere afterthought in his world. Part of me wondered if he’d kept it that way as a mask to his disgusting demeanor or his need to know if anyone had entered his space without his permission.
Pity any poor bastard who was stupid enough to try.
There was never a book out of place on the two floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that sat behind his dark oak desk, nor was there ever a crumb or leftover sign of life on the regal rug positioned in the center of the room. His desk was free of any mess, the various stacks of paperwork organized so they all nestled against one another flush. Various operative plans were pinned on the bulletin board to his left, each of them telling stories every part of me wished were never true.
My gaze danced between the two leather-back, blood red chairs positioned across from his metaphorical throne. Electing to avoid getting any closer to him, I fell into the stance he’d ingrained in every corner of my fractured soul: arms behind my back, chest out, and gaze downcast at the ground.
There was no eye contact with him, not until he demanded it, and certainly not if you wished to continue breathing.
“Sir, I wanted to report back about this morning’s training with your son.”
The shuffle of papers pushed me further, his silence a way to keep me talking. He was a man of few words, but those he spoke were detrimental, an antecedent to something far worse.
“Rounds ran a bit longer this morning due to Oren’s insubordination during our early morning session. He quickly learned the consequences that come alongside interrupting those of higher command, especially when punishments for failed expectations are underway.” My jaw feathered as I worked to steady my nerves before continuing, “Simon is currently being treated in the infirmary, and your son joined him after he finished conditioning. The former’s condition includes a broken nose and cheekbone, and the latter… Two broken ribs. He still completed his mile, but I am confident I’ve cracked one of his emotional walls, sir.”
“Graves.” At his cue, my gaze lifted to his weathered features.
His gentle disposition was a scapegoat for the horrors etched into his wrinkles—one for every kill he’d disposed of in secret, a ruthless display of carnage hidden behind a placid smile. His hair was white and kept short to aid the noble appearance he required of any of his men. His beard was trimmed, not a hair out of place, like his office. He delighted in order, and chaos would not suit him in his wardrobe either.
Dressed in a tailored dark blue jacket, he was adorned with various badges, none of which he earned legitimately. While he was able to maintain his status in strength, he was a smart enough man to resort to tricks that helped him climb the ranks. The four stars on his shoulder displayed just that.
He shoved the papers to the side, folding his hands as he often did to display a deep displeasure. “I didn’t ask foronewall. I asked for all of them. My son is familiar with beatings, so two broken ribs aren’t a threshold I’m willing to honor.”
Biting my cheek, my lineage bloomed, and I swallowed it in an attempt to ground myself. “I understand, General. Though, as you’re well acquainted, your son’s stubbornness is nearly impenetrable. I leveraged the tactics you suggested and wanted to report that they seem to be sufficient.”
“Seem?” His head tilted an inch, blue eyes narrowing reducing any resemblance to Oren.
“Are sufficient,” I corrected. “I apologize for misspeaking, sir.”
He scoffed, leaning back into his chair. “I’m fully aware of my son’s stubbornness. I don’t need a recall of your struggles. What Iwantis his silence, his obedience, his ability to take direction. If you’re struggling to do so, our deal still stands. Iraq needs men, and who am I to deny them an able-bodied person such as Matthew?”
The reply came from me faster than I could stop it, something about Oren’s presence reigniting my defiance. “Iamgetting those results. This session rendered him silent and shoved him toward obedience. If you’re as acquainted as you believe, then you’d understand that this case—yourson—will not be an overnight fix. Hell, that’s why he’s here, isn’t it? Because you’ve tried for years and haven’t been able to get him to fall in line?”
Eerie quiet filled the office before the shuffle of his chair answered. He stood, palms flattening on the desk as he leaned forward to announce whatever punishment I’d earned. “Gettingdoes not equal results. I don’t expect an overnight fix, but Iexpectresults to?—”
Before he could continue, I did one of the things I knew I shouldn’t have, knew betternotto—I cut him off. “Respectfully,General,what obedience do you have to speak of when it comes to him?Gettingis a step in the right direction, a step closer to theseresultsyou desire.”
General Andrew Valens smiled, a flash of white I knew solidified the impossibility of walking out of here unscathed. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he yanked me down with the same brunt force I’d inflicted on his son, my face slamming into the desk. Papers scattered as my cheek smashed into the top of his desk, his hand planting me there untilhewilled it to be over.
“If I wanted to be talked back to, I’d offer a meeting with my son. Iexpectorder, and at this rate, I’ll fucking replace you with my son and ship Matthew out tomorrow.”
Thrashing against him, I seethed. “Why? Because you’re too cowardly, toooldto press for obedience as you once have? Matthew is an asset to your son’s cooperation; get rid of him, and I willspitat your fucking feet. You want me to follow orders? Take him out, and you’ll havenothing,and I’ll have nothing to lose.”
“Nothing to lose?” he said as his fist collided with my face. “It sounds like you haveeverythingto lose. I made sure everyone you fucking cared for disappeared. Do you want the same to happen to Matthew?”
Spitting up a mouthful of blood, I craned my head just enough to look at him. “What the fuck are you insinuating? My men died on the battlefield.Mymen died inwar, honoringour country, not by your tainted hands.”
