What if something happened to him? Was it Mitchell? A bitter person who put a hit on him? Ryan…? He got my number, what if he got my location, too?
Just as my brain is about to hold me hostage in a trauma I hoped was forgotten, my phone buzzes with Tyler’s name across the screen.
I’m so sorry, Sunny. I’ll be home soon.
He gives me nothing in that text message but my chest decompresses with relief.
A grueling twenty minutes later I hear the front door unlock and Tyler walks through, holding his usual gym bag he brings to work.
I stand from the couch. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby.” He sets his things down.
The weak smile he gives me does nothing to mask the fatigue that circles his eyes. He looks like he has been on the hunt for hours.
“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing the disheveled clothing.
He runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’m so sorry I didn’t text you sooner. I got so caught up and I…well I wasn’t able to reach my phone.” He swallows hard.
Which only means that my suspicions were right. “When was the first time you killed someone?”
He blinks at me and licks his lips. “Fifteen.” He doesn’t hesitate to answer.
I try not to react, but the wince that takes over my face is undeniable, even in the shadows of the fireplace.
So young. He was so young.
“What was the reason?” I ask.
He takes a few cautious steps towards me, afraid this honesty will send me running. But I’m the one asking questions.
“Mitchell.” I’m not surprised. “It’s a dirty game, the world we live in. We are too heavily tied into politics and government and basically the world around us to allow anything to slip through the cracks. Mitchell, he doesn't do the dirty work. I am the reason any threat to our family or our company gets taken down.”
I remain silent, waiting for the rest of the story.
“A mole was found in our company, and it was my job tofigure out who else was involved. Which meant…questioning.” He blows out a breath and sits on his couch. “He made me torture the guy until every last drop of blood left his body. If I didn’t do it, the risk would outweigh the nightmares it gave me.”
“What was the risk?” I push.
“Anthony’s life.” He meets my stare. “It was the traitor's life or Anthony’s. So the choice was easy. He said that’s how it would always be. That if I didn’t take the traitor out, then they’d take away the people I love. That we couldn’t let people who cross us walk free or else they’d do it again and again. Taking more each time. And I knew if the traitor didn’t hold true to the promise of taking away the people I love, Mitchell would. It’s why I’m bound to this company. So I did it. I made the bastard pay. Wishing it was Mitchell instead.” He watches the crackling fire. The flames dance in his emerald eyes, just like the haunted memories do.
“Later that night, I sat in Sam’s bathroom, crying as she washed the blood off my hands.” He rests his elbows on his knees. “I cried because I took a life. I cried because I also enjoyed it, imagining it was Mitchell. I was so angry at him. No matter how awful these people I kill are, it’s still taking a life. The night he put me in the hospital when I was eight was when he created a monster inside me. A predator that refused to be the prey again. So that’s what I became, and I’m okay with that.”
“Does he still try to use that against you?”
I notice he doesn’t have sadness, not even anger really, in his eyes. It’s like he said before, he is okay with it now. He somehow made peace with this part of himself. A comfort amidst the chaos. And I realize I made peace with it, too.
“He tries.” He smirks. “But Mitchell knows not to fuck with the things I love most now. I still don’t like to take the chances, regardless.”
“And have you…tried? Or if not, why haven’t you?”
“Because if it’s one thing I know about Mitchell, he is muchlike me, he will fucking fight. And I’m not in the business of the war of my life. I’m content with the way things are. Once he gives the company to me, I’ll do things the way they should’ve always been done. But if I kill him, that’ll create a lot of complications and a lot of pissed off people. And my empire will crumble fast.”
I nod. It makes sense. I don’t blame him for doing what he needs to do to keep the peace.
It’s a conflicting thing, knowing what I know about Tyler. A portion of him that maybe even Sam doesn’t quite know or understand. It’s hard to discern whether he is a good man who does bad things, or a bad man who does good things. But one thing I know is that he will never hurt me.
His phone buzzes, and with a sigh he grabs it and runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry baby, I have to go back out.”
