Page 121 of Reckoning

“What is it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.” I snap. I’m so sick of everyone lying to me, treating me like I’m breakable, like I have to be protected.

He grabs my jaw, forcing me to still. “I told you to trust me, Sofia.” He growls.

“Trust is a lot to ask for when you’re the one holding all the cards.”

His eyebrows raise. “You think I’m tricking you?”

I take in a deep inhale. “No,” I admit. I just don’t know what I do think. I woke up this morning feeling like a new person, like all that dark shit was in my past and now it feels like the rug has been yanked out right from under my feet and I’m back there, in that room.

Like there’s a chain once more around my neck. That I’m surrounded, trapped, and those eyes, those blue eyes…

“What is it?” Koen asks as I tense up.

“I,” I shake my head trying to clear the fog. It felt like a memory but I know it’s more than that.

“There was someone there.” I whisper.

“Where?” Koen growls, like he thinks I mean now and he’s ready to smash down every wall.

“Before,” I say. “At Otto’s. He…”

My voice dies as I see it, that flash of metal. As I feel it smashing into my ribs. My hands wrap around myself, at where those ribs were broken and are no healed.

“He had blue eyes. Dead eyes.” I force the words out. “He tortured me because he thought I knew something.”

Koen’s lying so still now, studying my face like he’s waiting for me to divulge more.

“I saw him before.” I state. “When I was a child. He visited my father and I walked in on them.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. He sits up just a little. “He visited your father?” He repeats.

“I think he threatened me, I just don’t really remember.” I reply.

“What did your father do? Did he say anything after?”

I wince, dropping my gaze, not wanting to admit it but I’m also not going to lie. “He beat me.”

“Your father did?” He growls.

I shrug, acting like it’s nothing because in a way it is. My father is dead. It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it does. “I was snooping. I broke the rules.”

“Did he hurt you often?”

My lips curl into a bitter smile. “Yes.”

“Did he beat your brother too?”

It feels like he already knows the answer to that. It feels like he’s asked that on purpose. I mean, I already told him Roman was the golden child, surely that says enough?

“Sofia…”

“It’s okay.” I reply, using that same reassuring line he’s used with me. “My father was not a nice man. I knew that. I accepted that.”

He cups my cheek, before planting a soft kiss on my lips. I still can’t figure out how a man as physically strong as him can be so gentle.

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