Page 308 of Eight of Swords, Part One

‘Fuck his mouth, Mikki. That’s what you wanted, so do it while I watch.’

His little girl is on the grass, talking to the worms and the crows who are watching from afar, they’ll keep her safe, she can befriend them, she’s so special.

‘Or were you lying to me? Did you have some other reason for sneaking around in the shadows with my bodyguard?’

She is so special, his little girl, his daughter.

‘I was speaking to him about Roman.’

‘Lachlan, is this true?’

‘He told me, I wanted to speak with you about my son. Verbatim, sir,’ Lachlan recites, fully on autopilot. He is beneath the sunshine of Varrow City on the grass of the Penhalyx Estate in the cuddly pile-up of a failed cartwheel while Mimi laughs and Jules tries not to and Blaire captures it all inside a flash.

‘Good boy.’ Alistair lightly claps Lachlan’s cheek. ‘Up.’

Lachlan rises. Sorrenko eyes him warily. ‘You’ve done it then?’

It’s clear he’s speaking to Alistair.

‘Not entirely, no. It takes years, but thus far, he shows potential. They don’t break like others but much like a bonsai, if you bend them young enough, they’ll grow in whatever shape you’d like.’ Alistair claps Lachlan’s shoulder. ‘You are mine, Lachlan. Take care to remember that, unless I give you permission, your body is mine to command and no one else’s. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Get inside.’

Lachlan goes.

He just makes it to a bathroom, collapses hard and with no sand to cushion the fall, his knees bark against the cold, pristine tile but he couldn’t care less because then his stomach voids itself entirely, muscles rolling with cold waves of sickness and he can’t recall the last time his body even did this, although he definitely remembers the first.

He stays for a while until it passes, drags himself up to splash water on his face and brace himself on the small countertop.

The man he sees in the mirror is so pale.

Furniture.

Wall.

Body.

Toy soldier.

Bonsai.

Killer.

Lachlan gathers himself enough to finally turn and when he does, he finds Jules behind him, back against the closed door. Lachlan didn’t even notice he was there. Jules is pale too, though likely not for the same reasons.

‘Sorry,’ Lachlan croaks, clears his throat and drags a hand across his mouth.

It’s trembling.

He is trembling.

‘What the fuck happened?’

‘Nothing.’ Not a lie, nothing did happen.

‘Why did you throw up?’