In one clean and swift motion, I pulled the gun and leveled it at Lucian's chest. He looked at me, wearing a sick smirk that told me I'd finally given him what he wanted.
"Pulling a gun is easy," he declared, stepping toward me. "But easy doesn't make you brave. Just like throwing your life away for your mother didn't make you honorable."
He tilted his head, eyes gleaming with a cold, amused glint. "You're not a man, Honor. You're a frightened little boy playing hero and trying to save the world from the big bad wolf."
Lucian stopped just short of the barrel.
"But this isn't a fairytale. And I'm not the wolf, kid. I'm the one who teaches the wolf how to hunt."
My voice came out dry and lifeless.
"You're right. Pulling a gun is easy… so is ending a life. All you gotta do is pull the trigger." Grinning, I turned the gun on myself, letting the barrel press against my temple.
"Pulling a gun on yourself… ending your own life, that's war. 'Cause your body… your body's begging you to stay alive while your soul is already gone. You took that from me. You robbed me of that shit when you killed my mom," I huffed and closed my eyes.
My finger hovered over the trigger, shaking as if it were about to betray me. Sweat gathered at the base of my neck and ran down my spine. All I heard was my heartbeat in my ear, beating fast and frantic.
Everything in me begged me to stop and just drop the gun and breathe because death couldn't be better than life. Only this wasn't about dying. It was about freeing myself from this mental prison. And still my fingers trembled out of stubbornness because my body refused to let go. I tightened my grip. Lucian's gaze clenched. I swallowed hard.
One breath. One pull.
That's all it took. The war in my chest quieted long enough for me to end it all.
The pain. The weight of watching Glory die. The carvings in the wall.
None of it mattered. Peace washed over me, and I smiled. With my eyes closed and my finger steady, I was ready. I began to press as I counted to five and inhaled. Then, I counted down from five and exhaled, finally ready.
"No!" Her voice tore through the air like glass shattering.
It was panic. It was wild. It was her.
She wasn't supposed to be here. I didn't even know her name, but she wasn't supposed to see me like this. Yet there she was, running toward us, screaming. Lucian snatched the gun and yanked me forward by my t-shirt.
"Do as I say from this point on, and I'll let you out of the basement. Don't, and I'll kill her." His head jerked subtly in thedirection of the girl who was still running toward us. Her short, stubby legs were slowing her down.
"Think quickly," Lucian sneered.
"Fine."
Smiling a little wider, Lucian freed me of his grasp and then patted me on my back just as Navy approached.
"Daddy, what the hell is going on?" Tears stained her pretty face, but anger scorched her eyes.
"Nothing, sweetheart. He was just being a little… dramatic, for lack of a better word. Honor will be living here from now on. Take him into the house, get him some breakfast, then give him a tour. He'll be staying in the room next to your brother's."
She looked between us, oddly, but said nothing. She then reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. Her fingers locked around mine like the tighter she held, the safer I'd be.
"That's your father?" I asked as we walked toward the house.
"Yeah. I'm Navy by the way," she introduced herself, briefly glancing my way.
"Honor," I responded, then shifted my gaze toward the ground as I started piecing shit together.
Keeping me locked away wasn't about punishment. It was part of his strategy. Suffering didn't matter to Lucian because eventually, it faded, and you'd become numb. He wanted to twist my mind until I couldn't tell the difference between survival and obedience.
Killing Glory in front of me.
Locking me in the basement.
