Page 118 of Inside the Sun

I also saw Rocco grabbing him. That’s when I turned on the sprinklers, just to distract him for a second, give Sun a chance to get away.

But what else can I do for him? Morph into animagoand kill them all? Risk losing the progress I have made here and abandon my mission to find Moon? I already stretched my luck before, with Vito!

As I watch Sun heading into the garden gazebo, the struggle begins again, even intensifies, the conflicting urges grow.

Adrenaline spike in my veins. Yes, none of the cameras are positioned to see who goes in or out of the gazebo, but thereisa camera on the main entrance to the mansion. So whoever reviews the footage will see that Sun walked out and that I’m in the garden. That alone might be enough to spark some suspicion.

And who seems to be in control of the cameras?

Always-watching Mauro! He was able to disconnect them for an hour yesterday. I wonder how he explained it to Anzo and Rocco?

I wrestle with myself for thirty minutes before my legs just start moving on their own. I pretend to water the flowerbeds, in case somebody watching me from the guard booth window. I keep slowly making my way deeper into the garden, trying to make it look casual.

Only once I’m behind the bushes that block the booth’s line of sight do I stop watering and head toward the gazebo.

Sun is sitting on the bench inside. His posture’s strange and stiff, his head bowed, and tears are dripping from his eyes.

I curse under my breath. Again? Like I said, I never know what to do in situations like this. I’ve never been good at comforting people. When Moon came to me with a problem, I listened, but rarely knew what to say. I always wished I were better at it.

But my mind always goes blank when I see someone cry. Is it because I’m a purple alpha? Maybe I really am more primitive than regular people. Emotional nuance just slips right past me.

I stop in the doorway and stay quiet, just looking at him. He lifts his beautiful eyes to mine.

I don’t say anything, he speaks first.

"Was it you who turned on the sprinkler yesterday?"

I hesitate. Then I nod slowly.

"Thank you," he says simply.

I don’t know what to add. I can't offer to help him. Whatever plan I try to create that includes saving Sun, it immediately implodes. Too many variables.

Maybe I’m still thinking like a programmed soldier, stuck in tunnel vision. Overwhelmed by too many variables: how many members of his family I’d have to protect, how many of Ferro’s I’d have to kill. Even the feds avoid going after the mafia head-on.

For now, my soldier’s logic keeps winning over my heart. The real question is… for how long?

Sun stands up slowly and walks toward me, his big eyes locked on my face. I catch the alluring scent of his orange shower wash. He moves closer, one step, then another, then a half step, until… finally his head rests against my shoulder!

Just his head.

Wow, how strange. It makes something in me… thaw. But I have no idea what it is.

So, we just stand there. Him with his head hanging on my shoulder, and me not sure if I should even breathe deeper.

"I’m going to die here," he whispers, exhaling slowly. "I know it already. There’s no hope of escape. Please… do what you did yesterday. Just for a moment, let me forget…"

I lift my hands, wanting to hug him, but his whole body flinches. He jolts back suddenly.

"No," he gasps, and new tears start pouring down his face. "Anything but that. You can’t touch my back…!"

"Why not?"

He swallows and wipes his face. Then he turns around, grabs the hem of his shirt, and slowly pulls it over his head.

His back, beautiful, slim, perfectly muscled, a divine balance of grace and strength, is covered in thin red welts. Swollen edges. They’re everywhere. Some bruised, already turning blue.

"Fuck," I mutter, rage at that bastard building deep inside me. Even though I have a monstrous side to me, I still see myself as a decent human being, and what was done to him is… just horrible.

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