Page 151 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

I blamed the victim, when instead, I should have tried to understand him, talk to him about my fears, listen to what happened in those years I was gone, and see my pain through his eyes.

He even taught me how to be a serial killer to kill Andreas, shared all his knowledge incognito, putting my needs and safety above the desire to establish a connection with me.

Countless memories of me being a dick to my dad play in my mind.

Refusing to acknowledge him.

Turning everything into an argument.

Never hiding my hate toward him and essentially shutting him out.

Just to name a few.

By accepting my mother and sister, even my friends, I made it clear to my dad he was to blame for everything that happened to me and I regretted being his son. I wanted him to experience pain every single day, so he wouldn’t find peace.

And why?

Because I was too afraid he might reject me, so I rejected him first.

My childhood hero, who I transformed into a villain in my head.

“Dad,” I call him before I lose the courage.

He stops in his tracks, spinning around to face me, surprise evident on his face. I clear my throat, trying to push the words out that I should have said sixteen years ago.

And God, I feel like that fifteen-year-old boy now.

Scared to death to look at his father, tears forming in my eyes for the first time in twenty years, and I find the courage to finally face my greatest fear head-on.

“I survived until I could beat them.” My words are barely audible in the empty hallway, my lungs burning along with my heart that beats so rapidly I hear the drumming in my ears. I desperately want to gulp for breath, but I’m too afraid to make the slightest move.

My body trembles; the stupid tears scatter down my cheeks and drip on the floor as we watch each other.

I wipe them away, despising myself for this weakness, but I’m no longer a monster standing in front of Lucian Cortez, am I?

No, I’m his son who craves his acceptance so much.

My father’s eyes glisten, and it takes me a second to realize he has his own tears, and I’m not sure who makes the first move, but I end up in his arms, hugging him close while his massive arms wrap me so tightly, taking me back to my childhood when this man had the power to make everything right in this world.

A sob threatens to escape me, but I hold it back, silently crying, finally allowing myself to do it, because my father is here to catch me, and he killed the demon who destroyed my life.

He squeezes me even harsher and, wiping away any other voices in my head, he says, “Of course you did. Tú eres mi hijo.”

You’re my son.

I scrunch my eyes when the meaning of his words settle in me, slipping into every broken crack of my soul and soothing the pain weighing on me for decades.

Because that’s the truth, right?

No matter what happened to me… I will always be his son.

Always be worthy of his love.

And finally, the boy inside me who still bleeds to this day finds peace.

Lullabied by his father who rocks him in his arms.

Lucian

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