Page 98 of Doubts of the Egoist
Greg carefully placed the gun on the desk, picked up the deformed bullet, rolled it between his gnarled fingers, and put it back in the file. He repeated Yugo’s manipulations with the vest before sniffing his fingers. His eyes narrowed, and he gave Yugo his conclusion. “A point-blank shot. Caliber matches the weapon.”
Yugo nodded, hating to see his suspicions confirmed. The hematoma was fresh, the shot was point-blank, and there was no one in Mio’s car.
The cigarette scalded his fingers. Yugo crushed the smoke into the ashtray with a hiss and licked the fresh burn on his index finger to cool it. He got up, grabbed the gun with his left hand, threw the vest over the back of his chair, and stood behind it. Raising the gun, he fired a shot an inch above the original hole in the vest. Greg didn’t flinch when the loudBANGshook the walls. With a quiet clink, the shell casing fell to the floor and disappeared under the desk.
“Compare,” Yugo commanded.
With a short nail of his index finger, Greg pulled the deformed piece of metal out of the vest, rolled it between his fingers. A deep scowl brought Greg’s bushy eyebrows together.
“You think someone shot him in the car with his own gun?” The gunfire still rang in Yugo’s ears, making the thundering voice sound muffled, as if it was coming from behind the wall or through a pillow.
“I think the bullet belongs to this gun, and the only fingerprints we will find on it are Mio’s.”
“Come on, even Mio isn’t that stupid…”
Yugo looked up from his chair. “I really hope so. Compare.”
Greg gave a stiff nod and turned to leave. Yugo rubbed his brow, got up, and strolled to the bar. “And … bring me some ice, not meat.”
The echo ofgunfire through the mansion made Kuon break out in a cold sweat. He rushed to the door, pounded on it, then tried to break it down, but the wood held no matter how hard he kicked. The wounds on his feet reopened, forcing him to stop. Left at the mercy of his fevered imagination, Kuon feared Rick had taken the bullet.Because of me…His helplessness poisoned his mind. Even before the sun reached its zenith, he turned into a wired knot of nerves, uncertain of his situation and Rick’s welfare.
He had already forgotten how endless a day without freedom seemed. For hours, he bounced off the walls, tormented by guilt and regret, until his energy finally left him, and he slumped into a leather chair. When the door opened and Greg entered the room with a steaming tray of food, Kuon greeted him with a hostile glare and silence.
Greg’s brief explanation of the weapons test slightly calmed him, but the refusal to let him out of the room annoyed and made him feel trapped. He waited, but Yugo didn’t return even as the sky turned pitch black. While he took another cold shower, the broken glass was removed from the room, andthe bed was remade without him seeing anyone come and go. The silicone dildo had disappeared as well, but the memories remained. They lingered, making him stew with indignation and shame.
He couldn’t believe that Yugo would let someone else enter the room, see his disgrace, and remove the evidence of it. Exhausted, he finally slipped into oblivion.
A groan escapedYugo as he rolled onto his side, followed by a yelp as gravity took hold. His hand shot out to save his face from smashing against the floor as the bed came to an abrupt end.His eyes snapped open to find the dark wooden floor and the cigarette ash scattered around his fingers,ominously close to his nose. His focus moved upward, following the legs of the coffee table, the edge of the tabletop, and the bar niche visible farther away.
“Ughhh,” he groaned, becoming aware of his sorry state. White-hot needles pierced his brain, making it melt and boil, as a dull, throbbing pain hammered his tooth. His dry tongue scraped against his palate as he worked his jaw in an attempt to moisten his mouth with some saliva, but his throat remained bone dry, only intensifying the foul taste.
“Why the hell am I…”here?The vivid shards of something fucked up zapped through his mind, causing him to shield his eyes with his other hand from the offensive light and painful memories.
Kuon, sleeping in another man’s bed, bloody hickeys on his pale skin… Loud barking of the puppies… A fight, blood, a clinic, and a long way home—all blurring into a sea of consumed alcohol.
Yugo cringed, hoping this was a nightmare, not a flashback. But for a dream, the thunder in his head was too loud, and the tiny sounds his nose produced with each exhalation didn’t support his theory.
“Fu—” The curse rose to his throat but died there with a gargling noise. He coughed, groaned, rolled to the other side, but dropped his hand from his eyes as something fluffy tickled his nose. Black and silver stripes filled his vision. He cast the chinchilla fur throw aside before his eyes caught what it really was.
The world tilted as he sat up; not only because the events of the last night suddenly became real, but also because his balance was thrown off by a rush of nausea. He had to grab the edge of the coffee table for support, and the glass on top of it shook, spilling water. Yugo swallowed hard, grabbed the glass, and poured the contents down his parched throat. His mouth flooded with saliva, but the blood ran quicker in his veins, and soon the storm in his stomach settled.
It’d been a while since he last had a hangover. Usually, he consumed just enough alcohol to relaxwithout getting drunk or losing control. But yesterday was a mess.
He rubbed his neck with his other hand and groaned again. After crashing on his office couch, his body felt broken in too many places. “Not a nightmare, after all…”
Yugo gave the glass a quizzical look, not remembering grabbing or filling it, then turned his gaze back to the fur throw. Someone sure had balls big enough to roll them into his office without permission and find him sleeping on a couch, like a sex-denied husband who was kicked out of the bedroom for inappropriate behavior.
He winced at the thought and the scene of sexual violence that flashed through his mind. This time the curse left his throat unhindered. “Fuck…”
Yugo looked out the window at the blinding sun in a crystalline sky and realized that an entire night had gone by.
A fleeting thought to go and check up on Kuon got tangled in a web of doubt. Even yesterday, with his mind polluted by alcohol, Yugo hadn’t had the courage to face Kuon. He’d sneaked into his own bedroom to clean up the broken glass, the fucking dog dildo and to change the sheets. He’d only done so when Kuon was in the bathroom. No longer angry or drunk, he still couldn’t claim to be calm and rational.
It’d be wise to stay away for a few more days. Yugo didn’t want to lose control when he saw the hickeys again. Hell, he should have locked Kuon up yesterday, too. Things would have been so much easier if he had.
He won’t forgive me…The thought pierced his skull with a jolt of the toothache. Finding overthinking useless, he stood up and staggered toward the desk. The cool leather chilled his back when he fell into the wide chair and habitually lit a smoke. His fingers flew over the smartphone and mindlessly punched in Greg’s name.
“Boss, you awake?”
