Page 60 of The Bait

Asher nodded and a sob wracked him, letting his tears fall and his rarely seen emotions pour out of him, letting Harry hold him, comfort him.

Asher had always spoken of his past with such a matter-of-fact aloofness that Harry had wondered if it affected him at all.

It very clearly did.

And Harry knew Asher had survived horrors and atrocities he couldn’t even imagine. A comment here and there, a far-off look in his eyes some days. He had frequent nightmares and he’d flinch and mumble in his sleep.

And clearly being here, seeing this place, made it impossible to keep from the surface.

Harry held him tight, kissing the side of Asher’s head and rubbing his back while he cried. He couldn’t even imagine what Asher had been through.

Barely six years old, scared and alone, made to fight for food, beaten and abused, seeing weaker boys die or get sold for a worse fate.

Harry shuddered to think of what those grown fucking men did to Asher in this place.

Asher grew heavy in his arms as his sobs became quieter and he gave him time to catch his breath. “I hate them. I hate them all,” Asher mumbled.

Harry hated them too.

“I’ll help you track them down if you want,” Harry said.

Asher sighed and pulled back so he could wipe his face. His eyes were red and puffy, his nose and cheeks wet. He held the back of his hand to his nose. “I’m sorry.”

Harry put his hand to Asher’s cheek, wiping the tears. “What for? You don’t ever have to apologise to me.”

“For crying, for being a mess.” He shook his head and fresh tears welled in his eyes. “I never realised... I’ve been back here before and it never affected me like this.”

“Asher, baby, you’re not the same person today as you were back then. Not even two years ago. You know what real love is now. You know you deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. You’ve seen a different way to live.”

He shook his head and began to cry again. “I’ve killed so many people. I killed fifteen men just yesterday, Harry. I don’t deserve... I don’t...”

Harry’s heart ached for him. “Asher, you didn’t deserve whatever those fucking men did to you when you were six years old or the decade that followed. You deserved none of that. Everything you did, every life you took, was because of them. They set you on this path. You were just a boy. You had to do what you did to survive. Kill, or be killed. You didn’t choose this life. You were forced into it.”

“I chose to keep doing it,” he said. “When I rescued Yunho and we began working together.”

“Because it was all you’d ever known.”

Asher looked back at the derelict building, at the overgrown grounds, and shook his head. “There are bodies buried in this forest, Harry. We had to run the trails, in teams, hunting the other teams for sport. There are bunkers farther down... where the instructors would...” His face crumpled and he shook away the tears. He sucked back a shaky breath. “We learned to compartmentalise the pain, separate our emotions. I learned to not feel anything, to disassociate myself from what they made me do.”

Harry rubbed his back, gently stroked the back of his neck, his head.

“I haven’t thought about any of this for years,” Asher whispered. “Coming back here was a mistake.”

“No. You needed this,” Harry said. “You’ve held it in for too long. And it won’t be easy to sort through all this shit, but I’ll be with you. Every step of the way.”

He shook his head. “No, not because of this place. Coming back here was a mistake, Harry. Bosnia, Serbia. I shouldn’t have come here. I want Yunho back, but I can’t risk you to get him. Losing him would gut me. But losing you...” Fresh tears fell down his cheeks. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

“You won’t lose me.”

“I don’t know what we’re dealing with here,” he said. “This feels bigger than just Istomin or Radovic. It’s about old countries, old political ideals, and that shit runs deep, Harry. And Yunho...” his gaze cut to Harry, and it took a second for Harry to realise what he saw in his eyes.

It was fear.

“A week ago, I’d have said I knew Yunho well. I knew what made him tick, I knew what fed his soul, what made him happy.” Asher shrugged. “Now I don’t know if I know him at all.”

What?

“The files?”

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