Page 308 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

That he feels small and helpless and alone.

Hears that voice.

You. Belong. To me.

And he doubts himself.

And he hates himself.

And he let Roman die.

Priscilla was right.

So was Clara.

So was Mason.

‘You’ll do a good job protecting them,’ he says, the words coming out in a shaky tumble. ‘You’ll keep them safe, I know you will because you’re so strong and I’m not. I’m not like you.’

‘Lachlan, stop this.’

‘I’m not good enough, I’m not strong enough, I’m not enough to keep them safe. I let him die,’ he whispers like it’s a secret, tears spilling. ‘He was a kid, and they tortured him and… he slept on me because he was so scared, but he was brave anyway, and he wanted to see Vasily again, and I let him die because I wasn’t good enough! I’m not good. There’s no good inside me. I’m just a soldier. I’m just a weapon. A toy soldier. His. Because if he tells me to hit Jules, I will. You wouldn’t do it,’ Lachlan utters around a sob that threatens to gut him. ‘You’re not his, you’re theirs, and that’s why I need you to stay and take care of them because I can’t, Danny. Do you understand?’

‘Sit down, come on.’

‘I let him die.’

‘You kept him safe for as long as you could,’ Danya tells him in a strangled voice, forcing Lachlan to sit on a bench. ‘You did your best.’

‘It wasn’t good enough.’

Kneeling before him, Danya sighs heavily. ‘It never is.’

‘I can’t protect them, but you can. You have to. Please.’ Lachlan grips his face with both hands, foreheads together, eyes tightly shut. The rot inside can only see, not hear. ‘I’m not myself. I’m not… me,’ he whispers. ‘There’s rot inside and it’s spreading, and I have to kill it.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I’m saying…’

But he can’t.

His throat won’t allow it.

And his mind can too easily reshape it.

And his heart is too desperate for comfort, like a child in the cold.

He says nothing.

Danya pulls him into his arms.

‘OK. I hear you,’ he whispers back, sounding afraid. ‘I hear you.’

Lachlan cries in his embrace. Weak and tired and so confused. His skull pounds and his stomach gnaws at itself. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘I understand now.’

‘You have t-to stay.’