Page 49 of The Vicious Defender

"Don't try to justify what you did, because you can't," he growls. "So don't."

I turn away, not wanting him to see the pain etched on my face. I remember my nephew as a kid. Soft, pliable. A walking target.

"I had to toughen you up," I say. "It's why I took you."

"You jailed me and you fucked with my mind, and you made me into something I never wanted to be."

"You're just as bad as me," I growl.

"No," Heath spits. "You tried to make me that way. But it didn't work, did it? I haven't grown into the monster you tried to make me, despite your best efforts."

"Yet you're taking a page out of my book now," I say, a hint of pride sneaking into my voice.

"I've learned from the best," he shrugs. "So what will it be, Xavier? Your eye... or your life?"

"Thank you for joiningme," my nephew smirks as I'm led into his study in shackles.

"Not that I had much of a choice," I hiss.

"You did," he reminds me. "You chose this."

He beckons me with his finger and I roll my eyes, but Liberato shoves me forward, and I follow, sitting down across from him.

"I'll free you," Heath says. "But only if you do exactly as I say. Agreed?"

"No," I hiss.

He laughs out loud. "So feisty. That's why I like you, Uncle. You're crazy. But not as crazy as I am."

"No," I repeat. "I'm not signing over my life to you."

"Then I guess Tallulah will never be freed."

"Why are you doing this?" I ask. "Is it really all about revenge? Because you think I mistreated you?"

"You did mistreat me," he growls. "You were cruel. Sadistic. You tried to mold me into a killer. And you almost succeeded."

"Almost."

"I have no desire to be a monster like you," he hisses. "But I will allow myself this little indulgence."

He points to a glass jar on his desk, and I follow his gaze to it. Clear liquid fills the glass. I don't need to ask what it's for.

"When's the surgery?" I ask coolly.

"Oh, I changed my mind about that," he smirks. "No surgery."

"How else are you going to remove my fucking eye?" I hiss.

"With this," he says, pointing at a needle.

"I'm not a fucking heroin addict," I snap.

"You're going to want the anesthetic," Heath smirks. "Trust me. You might be tough, Uncle, but even you will want some kind of relief."

"I want to say goodbye," I grunt.

"No," he shakes his head. "You can't see her."

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