Page 96 of Doubts of the Egoist
“Hmm… It’s funny how I always end up doing what you want,” Yugo mused under his breath, watching the dark eyes obscure with exhaustion and distress. “You want him to live so much? Fine, take a bullet for him.” Kuon froze; his gaze grew colder by the second, so Yugo added, “I warned you. I told you that I’d kill anyone who touched you, but you didn’t listen. This is your fault. I put up with this nonsense for too long. Your‘friend,’that woman, your willful behavior… I’m done being a fool. Choose, for if you do nothing, I’ll choose for you.
“You will stay in this room, chained to the wall for the rest of your life, like a fucking dog. On my first command, you will spread your legs for anyone I bring to you. Or you’ll die too. Slowly. Painfully. You think I was cruel back then? That was heaven, but I’m about to introduce you to hell,” Yugo whispered,provoking, pushing Kuon to his limits, trying to get to his core and see his true feelings, agenda, and where his loyalties lay—himself, the dog, or Yugo.
When Kuon squeezed the gun, turned it, and pressed the black barrel against the side of Yugo’s throat, the Black Duke chuckled, raising an eyebrow.
“Or like this. Come on, don’t hold back,” he gently coaxed his former lover into the action, feeling the last sparks of warmth toward Kuon die out. “This is the third and the last time you’ve pointed a gun at me, so make it the charm. I’ve reached the limit of my forgiveness. Do it, or all your friends will die. Pull the trigger, Kuon. If you won’t, I will.”
Yugo didn’t lie. Someone had to pay, and nothing would be the same anymore. Still, he wanted to look into the dark, soulful eyes and see remorse splashing within. If Kuon admitted his mistakes and apologized, then maybe—just maybe—Yugo wouldn’t have to kill him. Maybe the dog’s death would be enough to restore his mental order. Maybe, he could still look at Kuon without feeling utterly gutted.
Kuon didn’t. His eyes glowed with the beautiful rage and indignation Yugo loved so much. Yet his hand shook, making it clear he would back down. Kuon had never been able to hurt him, and he didn’t see why that would change now.
The glow in the dark eyes dimmed. Though Kuon still looked at him, he no longer saw him. His pupils unfocused, flicked downward, as his shoulders drooped slightly. Kuon lowered the gun, taking it in both hands and caressing the barrel with his thumb.
“I’m so tired of you,” Kuon sighed, and Yugo believed him. Kuon looked listless, as if his choice didn’t matter.
“The sentiment is mutual,” the Black Duke said.
Kuon looked up.
Fear gripped Yugo’s heart. He had seen this look in Kuon’s eyes before. Not anger or hate, but grim resignation. It was the same expression he had seen on the frozen pier.
The jerk of the barrel suggested that the former police detective was considering pressing the gun to his head and pulling the trigger. To escape his wrath, his arms, his life. Again.
On instinct, Yugo grabbed the gun, wrenching it out of Kuon’s calloused hands. A cold anger, once dormant, flared bright and hot, baring his teeth. He knew if he killed Kuon with his own hands, he could move on and free himself from this obsession. But Kuon stole control away from him once more, leaving Yugo with the same soul-sucking desperation and helplessness.
Red pulsing at the corners of his vision, Yugo hissed in his face, “I hate you so fucking much, you have no idea.”
“The sentiment ismutual,” Kuon snarled, throwing Yugo’s words back at him. Pain flared in his knuckles as he struck that cruel face. The Black Duke stumbled back, blood spurting from his nose and dripping down his chin. “Stop playing with people’s feelings! Who do you think you are?”
“Fuck you and your feelings. You will do what I tell you to do.” Yugo gritted his teeth, smeared the blood across his cheek with his knuckles, then bore bloodshot eyes into Kuon. “Go back to bed and rest.”
“No. I’m sick of you and you using me as a fucking sex toy,” Kuon croaked but didn’t look away.
“Don’t want to be a sex toy? Fine. I won’t fuck you anymore!” He shoved Kuon’s shoulder, pushed him away from the door, then yanked it open. “Leave the mansion and they all die. I mean it. Now, take your meds and go to sleep.”
The door slammed shut behind him. The lock rattled, indicating that Kuon was once again a prisoner in this room.
Kuon glanced around, unsure of what to do. His throat tightened. He wanted to break things, to give in to the devastating fury inside, but doubted it would bring any relief.
CHAPTER 27
Barefoot, Yugo stoodon the cold tiled floor of the guest bathroom, splashing icy water on his face in a vain attempt to cool his mind and throbbing nose. The water streamed down his stomach and was absorbed into his linen pants, which were already heavy with his gun and threatening to slide down a hipbone. His fingers shook with nerves as he held one hand under the icy stream, then the other, soaking the crusty wounds on his knuckles, then rubbing the blood off with his thumbs. Pinkish water ran down the drain, but the rust-red bruises remained.
He looked up to stare at his colorful reflection. His nose was swollen but didn’t seem broken. Still, one of his eyes was black; the other was bloodshot with purple shadows lying underneath. His chapped lips were cracked with crimson lines, and the bruises adorning his cheeks and chin had taken on a bluish hue.
Bloody hell…He looked as stupid as he felt.One of the most feared men in Vienna, if not all of Europe, had gotten into a drunken brawl, like a horny teen, and over what?A hole…
The habitual cynicism left a foul taste in his mouth, just like the insult he’d hurled at Kuon in a fit of ire not long ago. Lying to himself was pointless.Things would be so easy if he were just a hole.
He soaked the white towel under the tap and pressed the cool fabric against his throbbing face.
“He pisses me off…” he mumbled against the rapidlywarming wetness. Thoughts, clad in sounds, stirred annoyance. He tossed the towel into the hamper and strolled out without a second look at his reflection.
His office greeted him with a chilly gloom, pleasant to his eyes but offensive to his wet skin. Contrary to expectation, the silence and coolness did nothing to soothe his fevered mind or wash away the salty taste from his tongue. He grabbed a pitcher from the coffee table and poured some water down his throat, but themetallic tang lingered, and the cold water made his chipped tooth ache.
Yugo cringed. Everything was going to hell, and he didn’t know how to stop it.
Fighting the urge to hurl the pitcher against the wall, he closed his eyes. The darkness within him condensed, intensified, and tightened around his heart, making him want to eliminate the source of his misery.
