Page 54 of The Vicious Defender

"I'm glad you're on the right path," she whispers. "If you cooperate, your life can be a very good one."

"It can't be," I spit.

"Oh, why not?" she asks, genuinely curious.

"Because," I growl. "As long as Xavier is suffering, my life is a living hell."

She nods. "Well. Then it's a good thing he's going to die, isn't it?"

I stare at her, horrified.

"Don't worry," she says. "I'm sure Xander will make it quick. I only wish I could be there to see it."

I fly at her again, and this time, her reflexes are too slow. She falls on her ass and I pounce, my fist hitting her face. She screams, and I keep going, punching her again and again, my blood pounding.

I'm not stopping. Not this time. I'm going to kill her.

But suddenly, I'm being pulled away. Liberato holds me against the wall, and two other guards pick my mother up.

"Are you alright?" Liberato asks my mother.

"Fine." She picks herself up, swiping at the scratches I've left on her skin. Her fingers come away bloody, and she glares at me. "I suppose I deserved that."

"You fucking did," I hiss.

"Lock her back in here," she orders. "Restrain her if you have to."

"Wait," I snap. "I want to see my husband, please. Mom... I love him. I can't help it."

Mom's features soften.

"You've done so well, Tallulah," she says, nodding. "Alright. Let her go, boys. But keep an eye on her."

"You won't regret this," I say.

"Oh, I already do." She turns to the guard. "Take her to her husband."

He nods and gestures for me to follow. I walk out, and Liberato takes me down the stairs and into the dungeon. The other guard stays outside, and the door is locked behind us. I rip myself out of his grasp and run down the now familiar hallway, screeching my husband's name. But when I come to the cage, I find it empty. My father sits in front of it, holding a glass jar.

"Is that..."

"His eye," he nods, turning the jar slightly and letting the blood-stained orb roll inside.

I swallow the bile that rises up in my throat. "Where is he?"

"We didn't torture him," Dad says.

"What?"

"We didn't torture him," Dad repeats. "He decided to do it himself."

"Why?"

Dad shrugs. "Because he's fucking crazy."

"He's not."

"I disagree," he smirks. "He cut out his own eye, Tallulah."

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