Page 110 of Seth
“Not before you tell me what happened.” Haas’ hand wound around his shoulder. “I need to know. Did you kill anyone?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“Not enough.”
“Fuck! What were you thinking?” Haas gave him a hard shove. Seth’s ass hit the mattress. “You aren’t sixteen anymore. Your father is dead and can’t protect you, neither can I.”
“I don’t need protection. I need to go.” Seth got up, a soft smile on his lips. “I appreciate the care, but you can’t save me. People like me don’t live long anyway. It’s time to let go of your pet project.”
A hard slap across his face whacked his head to the side. Seth snorted. “You can’t hurt me.”
“But I can insult you,” Haas whispered. “Don’t speak to me like this. I’ve always treated you as my own child. I did everything to give you a normal life. Even now, when you ignore your routine, you have done no permanent damage to your body. During this week, I ran every test possible. You are healthy. You have decades of normal life waiting for you if you just follow the routine. Why do you have to go and ruin it all?”
Seth smiled. “I’m in love, Doctor. Let me leave, or I’ll walk over dead bodies.”
Haas shook his head. A pained expression pinched his features, adding another decade to his appearance. His shoulders slumped, and he pulled on the wardrobe door, revealing a pile of clothes. “I wish you would just stop.”
“Stop what, Doctor?”
“Loving. It only causes death and sorrow.”
“Without love, what’s the point in living?” Seth grabbed the clothes and pulled on the jeans. When Haas didn’t answer, Seth slipped into the shoes and walked out of the door.
* * *
Seth’s hands shook,heart drummed. He opened his mouth to call for Ignaz but changed his mind. He wouldn’t be heard in such a large space anyway. Ignaz’s words about his villa being too big had never made sense until now. He rushed up to the second floor, thrust open the door of the guest room, but only crumpled sheets greeted him. His vision doubled when he entered the bathroom, but it was empty. He stumbled through the endless corridor to the master bedroom, then the bathroom. His breath was ragged and short; dark flies flickered before his eyes.
“No-no-no… Where are you?”
Running his fingers through his hair, he turned to the door, and a low growl escaped his throat.
Gustavo stood in the doorway, dressed in a sharp black suit. He lifted one palm and said, “Easy. Before you accuse me of anything, I don’t know where he is either. He left four days ago. His phone is off, and he didn’t return home. I came to tell you before you raided my house and killed someone. Also, I came to return this.”
He shoved his hand in the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out the phone.
Their fingers brushed when Gustavo passed the device over, the black eyes watching him with an odd expression. It didn’t look like the fear or mockery from before, but more like deep-seated concern and something else, something Seth’s mind refused to catalog. A vaguely familiar expression raised sharp hairs at Seth’s nape. He stumbled back. Years ago, someone else had watched him with the same eyes, same expression—a mixture of sympathy and superiority. Seth hated it even more than the former mockery and cold curiosity.
“Leave,” Seth breathed, having no energy to fight. “Leave…”
To his surprise, Gustavo didn’t argue. He turned around and walked away.
* * *
Night sprawledits blackwings over the city. Oppressive and heavy, it weighed on Seth’s shoulders. His watch beeped, phone flashed with missed calls from David Haas, but he ignored it all as he drove through the night traffic toward NoLimits.
He wasn’t sure why, but his inner instinct, the one that never failed him before, insisted he look there.
As soon as Seth stepped into the club, the noise pierced his mind. The mixture of body odor and wet leather enveloped him. He wanted to leave, yet he shouldered his way through the Friday crowd. He pushed open one door after another until his feet brought him into the black, silent room.
The bloody visual knocked the air out of his lungs, and every emotion died. Ignaz hung on the St. Andrew’s cross, thrashing with pain. His fingers clawed at the wood, face glistening with tears and sweat. Blue and black stripes covered his calves, thighs, buttocks, and back, but he kept mumbling “more.”
Seth wanted to leave. He hated seeing others touching what he thought was his. He didn’t want to hear the leer of a horny man, whispering crude words in the ear he’d kissed only a few nights ago. He needed to leave, but his feet rooted to the floor. His body stiffened, his head emptied, and the room blurred before his eyes.
Sharp betrayal penetrated his heart. He clawed at his chest as it became impossible to breathe. The air stuck in his throat, unmoving. Seth thought that he was about to collapse when a weak voice called out.
“Seth?” Ignaz stared at him, eyes wide, lips trembling. “Seth?”
