Page 10 of Obsession of the Egoist
Granting his subordinate with a long stare, Yugo pushed his glass toward him. Slipping across the polished wood, the glass stopped at the edge of the table. “Drink.”
“Boss, it’s been four weeks already…” Greg’s sulking voice irritated Yugo. He lifted the glass in the air and slammed it against the tabletop. Amber liquid, splashing inside, ran overboard and soaked his hand along with the white cuff of his shirt.
“Shut the fuck up and drink!” The room swam in front of Yugo’s eyes, as lightness settled in his head. Sitting in the dark, he hadn’t realized how drunk he was.
“I refuse!” The firm notes in Greg’s voice made Yugo’s blood boil.
“Then get the fuck out of here!” he roared, picked up an empty bottle that stood on the floor by the chair, and threw it at the splitting image of the man jiggling in front of his eyes. Leaning right, Greg evaded the bottle. The glass smashed against the doorframe and crashed down onto the dark wooden floor.
“If you miss Kuon this much, get him back.” Greg innocently shrugged. Yugo blinked and rubbed the back of his neck with his palm, disappointed that he’d missed. “Should I order him caught again?”
“What for? So one day he can blow his brains out just not to see me again?” Grabbing the half-empty bottle that stood on the coffee table, Yugo gulped from it then scowled as alcohol inflamed his throat.
“You like him, don’t you?”
Whiskey rushed back up his throat. Yugo hunched forward, bumping his chest with his fist as he coughed. When the first fit passed, he glared at Greg.
“Are you an idiot? I will fucking fire you!”
“Why don’t you talk to him? Tell him you like him.”
Yugo snorted.
“Why? So he can laugh at my face? He hates me.” He closed his eyes in an attempt to stop his head from spinning. From the moment he released Kuon, nothing had been able to catch his interest. The days dulled and lost color. Only the burning sting of alcohol helped him forget those eyes, full of hatred, and control the rage the betrayal caused.
“I think Kuon likes you,” Greg said and wiped his palms against his dark baggy suit. His gaze glued to Yugo’s hands, ready to dodge another bottle. “Anyone with eyes could see it. Talk to him.”
“He doesn’t.” Yugo pushed the words out; a small muscle twitched under his left eye. Sinking his fingers into the leather arm, he continued, “He had no other choice than to believe he does. This is how a human brain self-protects. Left without information, he looked for any kind of connection, communication, kindness. This is just simple psychology, nothing else. Do you know what white torture is? In full force, it makes people forget the faces of their parents within a few months. Isolation overwrote his mind, emotions, morality. Having no one in his life, he concentrated on me. That’s it. His feelings weren’t real. I gave them to him, and he took them, simply because he had nothing else left. As soon as he had a chance, he snapped back to his old self. Because I didn’t push him; because I didn’t want to break him.”
“I don’t think that’s the case, Boss. I watched him, you know? I think he likes you.” Strolling toward the window, Greg jerked a crimson curtain open. The bright morning light stabbed Yugo’s sensitive eyes. Opening the window, Greg let the fresh air into the room. “Why don’t you take a shower? You look no better than Tobias. The room needs cleaning; it stinks in here. Go and talk to him. What will you lose? In the worst case, kidnap him again; just treat him nice this time.” Greg shrugged again.
Unable to keep sitting, Yugo got up, hope warming his fingers. “Greg… If you’re wrong, don’t come tomorrow, or better yet, leave the country.”
Grabbing the cell phone from the small escritoire, he dialed the number.
“Find Kuon. Now,” he said to someone, hung up, and stomped out of the bedroom.
“Wait! Where are you going? Boss, you can’t drive like this!” Pushing an irritated breath out of his chest, Greg rushed after Yugo.
“HE DID WHAT?”Yugo breathed as his gaze roamed all over the black passenger compartment. Energy draining from his body, he dropped his hand onto his lap but kept staring at the lackluster screen. A heavy wave of exhaustion crushed his spine, and he rested the side of his head against the window. When his gaze found the rearview mirror and linked with Greg’s attentive eyes, he ordered, “Stop the car…”
Giving a light nod, Greg pulled over. Pushing the door open, Yugo got off in the middle of the road and approached the gray, dusty railing that once was white. His hands patted the pockets of his white suit, then the black button-up, before he found a cigarette pack.
Stroking the lighter, he sucked the smoke in, and the soft sound of fire consuming tobacco leaves reached his ears.
So quiet.No car disturbed the early morning, no bird dared to chirp, as if the world had died, leaving him and Greg behind. He looked up at the morose, colorless sky, and a few fat snowflakes landed on his face.
Just like that day…He closed his eyes. Yugo wasn’t a fatalist. He had always believed that the weak looked for a reason, and the strong for a method, but at the moment, the snow erasing the ground made him wonder if everything was destined.
“Boss, what happened?” Greg’s usually emotionless face radiated concern as he approached Yugo.
“Two weeks ago, he sold what he could and transferred all the money to charity. He joined the United Nations peacekeeping troops. He is not coming back.”
“What d-do you mean he is not c-coming back?” Greg stuttered, and Yugo peered into his deep-seated eyes, full of puppy loyalty.
“I don’t think he will ever return to Vienna…” Sticking his fingers in his hair, he turned away and kicked the gray, rusty railings. “Fuck!”
CHAPTER 3
