Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“He’ll get to me,” Arsen confirms and his jaw works. “And his questioning style is very similar to yours.”
Valentin’s smirk is vicious. “Are you complaining about your treatment? You’re alive. You’re not missing any fingers or toes.”
“You’re right, I should be thanking you. But I wonder what you would’ve done if I weren’t so useful.”
“Be happy that didn’t happen.”
I can tell this isn’t going anywhere good, and I quickly cut in. “Arsen, would you like to go for a walk with me around the park?”
He seems taken aback. Valentin looks downright furious.
“Absolutely not,” my husband says.
But Arsen nods. “I’d like that.”
There’s a silent standoff between them. I put my hand on Valentin’s muscular thigh and turn to him. “If Arsen wanted to hurt us, he would have, and you two are just going to keep butting heads. He’s my cousin, Valentin. Let us have a conversation.”
“I don’t like it,” he says through his teeth.
“I’m not giving you a choice.” I stand up before he can stop me and gesture for Arsen to follow.
My cousin is tall and muscular, a similar physique to Valentin, though he doesn’t have Valentin’s aura of maturity and power. I suspect one day he will—and he might even make a good leader for the Brotherhood—but right now, he’s still so young.
“I’ll stay close,” Valentin warns, glaring as I start off along the path.
Arsen keeps up. We don’t say anything for a little while as we get out of earshot of Valentin. Once we’re alone, or at least as alone as we’ll ever be in this city, Arsen looks down at me. There’s a small smile on his lips.
“He doesn’t trust me,” Arsen observes.
“Can you blame him?” I frown in response. My hands rub together behind my back. “He tortured you.”
“It wasn’t so bad. At least, I’ve gotten worse from my father.”
“Your father tortured you?”
“Not exactly. But also, yes.” He doesn’t look like he’s going to elaborate on that, and I can almost feel the frustration rolling off him.
Something went very wrong in his life. He keeps alluding to the terrible things his father did to him, and now he’s acting like getting tortured was no big deal. I can’t imagine growing up in a family like that.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I say very softly, and I find that I mean it. I know Arsen’s the one that burned my mother’s house down and nearly killed her, but he did it under orders. Now that I’m getting to know him better, I can tell that he never had much of a choice. If he had refused to do what his father commanded, I can’t even begin to imagine the horrifying consequences.
“It’s just what I am,” he says and stares at the path ahead of us, walking slowly. “I was never given much of a choice. I was the firstborn to Aram Sarkissian, which meant my path was decided before I ever came out of the womb. Then my mother died giving birth to Tigran, and it’s like any warmth in my life was sucked away. Maybe that’s why I like you.”
I look up, surprised. “What do you mean?”
“You seem so… normal.” He laughs lightly. “We have a big family, you know. Lots of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Some blood, some basically blood. But none of them are normal. Not a single fucking one of them. Including me.”
I hesitate, not sure how to take that. “I don’t feel normal,” I tell him. “This thing with Valentin, I don’t know. It’s like I’m finding my place in the world by his side.”
“God, that’s the most normal thing in the fucking world. You met your match. You fell in love. That’s what normal people do, right? But I’ll never be that. Even if it’s something I want.” He stares off into the distance again, and I can tell there’s much more to this story. Except I’m worried he’ll shut down again if I push, and I need him on our side right now.
“You don’t have to be whatever they want you to be,” I say as gently as I can.
He grunts and his pace slows as he looks back at me. “You’re wrong about that. It’s way too late for me. I’ve already gone down the road, and there’s no turning around, not anymore. My life is blood, violence, and pain, and it always will be. But I’m starting to think it can at least be on my own terms.”
I feel him teetering. This is the moment. He’s unsure of where to go from here, and he desperately wants me to give him a reason to push forward. This is where he turns, and all he needs is the right nudge.
“Maybe you won’t ever be normal, but at least you can have control over your own life again.”
“How would I do that?” he asks, voice sounding distant.