“His cousin.”
“This is not good.”
My heart is breaking piece by piece, and he thinks I care about the implications? I guess that’s why he’s my right hand.
“Do you think I’m weak?” I croak, dejection pulling me under a merciless wave.
“No.”
“Then why?” I ask, genuinely curious.
Oh, I will still kill him. He betrayed me as well, but I will postpone that until I gather some strength.
“In all the time I’ve known him, Vian has had only one weakness. You. He needed someone to watch over you, and he trusted me with it. It was an honor.”
“You’ve known him for that long?” What I don’t ask, but imply, is whether we met before.
As if he can read my mind, he says, “I was the son of one of his trainers. We developed a friendship over the years. When you two were together, I was abroad for my studies.”
Maybe that’s why I trusted him even if I didn’t understand why.
“He was terrified of the risks of you finding out. He tried, Zara. I know you don’t want to believe it, but he did. Vian is selfless only with you. He preferred you forgetting him to him causing you to slip into a place where he couldn’t reach you at all.”
I detect no trace of insincerity in his voice. He tells the truth.
Deep down, I think what caused my breakdown was the fact that I loved him despite what he did, and I couldn’t cope with the duality.
Coldness seeps through my bones, and I wrap my arms around myself to warm my frozen being. “He should have told me.”
“And risk your well-being? He stayed as far away as he could from you, protecting you from afar even if it fucking killed him.”
“Stop taking his side,” I snap. “I want to be alone.”
“I’m not taking his side. I am giving you another perspective.” He inhales a lungful of air and gives me an unapologetic glance. “And I can’t leave you alone.”
“Stay at your own risk. You should be long gone and pray I can’t find you.”
Silence descends as thick as the walls pressing my brain together until it might explode from the pressure.
“I told him I hit on you.”
“Fuck. Good that you killed him, then,” he tries in a joking tone, then realizes what he said, but it’s too late.
I hold on to my belly, nothing left of me to expunge, yet another wave of nausea hits me, and needing an outlet for the pain, I throw up again.
Conrad rushes to my side, patting my back. “I have you, Zara. It’s okay.”
“It’s not fucking okay. Stop saying that shit,” I scream loud enough my voice turns hoarse.
I stand up, but then everything turns black, I stumble and fall. Good. Please be there, Vian.
A pungent smelltickles my nostrils, and my eyes fly open to Conrad saying, “You fainted.”
Looking around, I realize I am in my bedroom at the compound, down to the needle in my arm transporting a transparent liquid from an IV.
I am about to rip it off when he catches my hand. “These are vitamins. You’re dehydrated.”
He slumps back to my side, and I stare at the ceiling.
