All were such lies.
Callan studied him, deliberating. Zaghan was a pathological liar, a manipulative bastard. To trust him was a foolish and thoughtless decision. But there was also a fact that he was exhausted, bones aching, mind fraying at the edges.
Then there was the weight of Elizabeth that was also quite unbearable. She was in his thoughts, under his skin, clawing at him from the inside. Staying away from her was the most difficult thing he had ever had to do in his life.
He was like an addict resisting a pull of his next fix at this point. The craving for her had become insidious, burrowing into his bones, whispering to him in quiet moments before sleep took over.
It had been a week since he saw her last, seven days since she told him to stop coming. But even then, it had already beentoo late. She was already in his bloodstream, an intoxicant more potent that any drug he had ever known. The longer it had been without hearing her voice, the worse the withdrawal got.
He tried burying his mind, soul, and body into work. He had overexerted himself, his body close to shutting down. But it hadn’t been working.
His finger kept twitching with the ghost of her touch. His lungs were too tight, throat too dry.
Every thought kept looping back to her. Every breath was thick with the need to see her, to watch the way her lips parted before she said anything.
A madman he had become for Beth Fraser.
The thin thread of restraint he had been gripping onto with desperation was about to snap. All he needed was someone to even mention her name. All he needed was a fleeting moment and he would break.
Giving Zaghan control would never be a good idea. He was already far too fascinated with the idea of breaking her. The moment he took over control, he would go hunting for her. Callan knew his brother this much. Nearly all the things that came out of his mouth were always lies.
“No,” Callan said, his tone firm, leaving no room for bargain. “I can’t give you control. Not now. Not in a very long time.”
The corner of Zaghan’s mouth lifted, his grin a jagged thing, sharp enough to slice through bones.
“Oh, brother.” Zaghan drew out, his voice low and measured. But there was also something unhinged lurking beneath it, something coiled and waiting.
“Only if you’d realise already, that the longer you’ve kept me locked away in the darkness like this, the more patient I’ve become.” He tapped his finger against his knee, a slow, deliberate action, then lifted his gaze which was dark and bottomless. “The more powerful I’ll become.”
He leaned back into the leather chair, his lighter slowly being twirled around his fingers. “Enjoy the control while it lasts. Because soon, I’ll snatch it from you. You will fall asleep and I will slip out. And when I do.” He paused, a vile, twisted chuckle ringing in the dark room. “When I fucking take control, Callan, I will make you beg on your knees. I will make you fight against these same chains you have wrapped around me. I will make you cry like a desperate man. And guess what, control will be far from you. You will sit in the shadow and watch me walk around in your body, doing whatever I fucking want with it.” His words slithered into the dimly lit room, curling into the air like cigarette smoke; a poisonous, inescapable thing.
Callan felt it; a crawling, suffocating presence seeping into the cracks of his mind, pressing against the wall of his sanity.
Zaghan wasn’t just laying out empty threats like when they were younger. No. Right now, he had made a promise. And Zaghan always kept a promise.
19
BETH
Just follow your heart.
“Your father’s birthday is tomorrow,” Mrs. Takahashi said, her gaze fixed on Kenzo who was sitting across from her on the dining table.
I glanced Kenzo’s way, shaking my head at his expected reaction; a deep frown, lips in a thin line.
It was a Friday evening. Mother was away again. She left for an outreach yesterday sponsored by the NGO she worked for. I didn’t really catch half of the things she said. It did involve some mission, some village, some souls. She would be gone for the whole week. She left behind instructions, sharp as a knife. Don’t hang out with boys. Don’t invite anyone into my house.
Pray.
With her gone, the house felt hollow enough to breathe in. But I decided to sleep over at Kenzo’s for the weekend. I would return home on Monday.
“So?” Kenzo’s sharp tone pulled me out of my train of thoughts.
I feared there never would be a day where this boy handled the topic
about his father in a normal, lighthearted way.
A weak, slightly saddened smile lifted the corner of his mother’s lips. “I know you two are not in a good place yet, but call him and wish him at least. He is still your father.”
