Page 108 of Doubts of the Egoist
Not sure what that meant, Yugo said, “If he contacts you, tell him I’m looking for him. And track Mio down. I don’t like this.”
This time, the nod was clear and firm. Yugo squinted, finding Greg’s behavior odd, but shrugged it off and waved him away.
When Greg turned and grabbed the doorknob, Yugo grimaced and added, “Kuon was babbling some nonsense about hisfriendgetting shot. A sniper rifle, he said.”
“A rifle?” A corner of Greg’s mouth twitched in amusement as he looked over his shoulder. “Is he some king’s bastard or something?”
“I know, right?” Yugo snorted and flicked ash into the ashtray. “Check what the police have. Something tells me Kuon won’t let it go.”
“How does Kuon even know?”
“Don’t know yet. He was too hissy to ask.”
With a huff, Greg left the room, only to return twenty minutes later, grim and serious. Yugo rose from his seat.
“Mio’s phone is off, but the last location was Tobias’ home. The rifle shot, though… Boss, you gotta see this.” A pile of printed papers landed onto the desk.
It only took Yugo a glance at the top sheet to realize what Greg meant. His fingers clenched into fists, eyes narrowed. “Get the car ready. Let’s pay Tobias a visit. Now.”
When the familiarscent of lemon antiseptic made him sneeze, Kuon realized his wandering had ended in the bedroom. His cheek twitched as he admitted that Yugo’s words had hit the mark. His soul teemed with doubt.
Manipulative bastard, how do you always find the rightwords to make me listen? Am I really that simple?
He shook his head and shuffled to the window, palms curling around the edge of the windowsill as he looked outside. Beyond the rain trickling down the glass, the black forest crackled with lightning. It looked dark, fascinating, and dangerous. Like Yugo’s eyes.
You or no one? Don’t make me laugh by demanding what you wouldn’t do yourself.
Kuon dropped his chin to his chest, biting his lips as an acoustic flashback zapped through him.“Because I don’t want to fight you for the rest of my life, and I’m not ready to give up.”
Don’t say things you don’t mean… What will you do if I believe you? More importantly, what should I do now? Leave?
Kuon visualized the long drive through the wet forest, rain bombarding the roof of the car. Once the road reached the city, the dreary, slippery, muddy surface would give way to reflective asphalt. He would rent a hotel room and fall asleep with the TV on to chase away his nightmares. A cold bed, familiar with too many strangers, would smell like a neutral detergent. Within a week, he’d find his own place and a job. Steady and lonely, his life would fade into the sunset, one day a clone of another. The highlight of each day would be brief moments of weakness in the shower, when he touched himself, thinking of Yugo’s hands, lips, and scent.
For the rest of my sad life… I wonder if he’ll watch those videos for the rest of his?Rage licked at his heart.This is fucking stupid!Doing something you know I won’t forgive, yet expecting me to do it anyway? For what? So cruelty becomes a permanent part of my life, and you remind me of this one mistake with Rick whenever you’re angry?
Kuon lowered his head, feeling darkness thicken in his chest. His pride flared, refusing to accept a mere verbal apology. Not after the canine dildo incident.
No, an apology won’t be enough. Everything has to change for anything to work. If it could work at all. Even if I manage to forgive you, will you ever forgive me?
Kuon doubted it.
Won’t hurt me, my ass… I don’t fucking believe you.
He glared at the bed, turned on his heel, and stalked out of the room. The downpour made going outside impossible, so he retreated to the white room and pulled out his smartphone.
If Yugo wanted him to call this place home, he would have to learn to respect Kuon’s personal space and wishes. Right now, Kuon needed to know who had shot Rick and why.
He considered calling Gray for help but immediately rejected the idea. If Rick wanted to involve him, he would do that himself.
His fingers punched in the phone number for the Homicide Department, though his mind couldn’t quite recall it.
It took him half an hour to get through to his former boss, Chief Superintendent Huber, better known as Uber. For another half an hour, Kuon dodged questions about his disappearance and whereabouts with elusive half-truths, then requested a copy of the police report on the attempted assassination of Richard Kainz.
After receiving a promise of a callback, Kuon hang up but kept staring at the blank screen, unsure what to do next.
His gaze mindlessly scanned the crime board when therumble of an engine merged with thunder, alerting him to someone’s departure. Driven by a surge of agitation, he rushed out of the room, stumbled down the stairs, and caught the elbow of a senior housekeeper, spinning on his heel to stop himself from going any further.
“Where’s Yugo?”
