Page 167 of Shadowman
I can’t believe how badly I’m aching for him, down to my bones.
“What could you have possibly done to warrant something like that?” I whisper.
“Probably the same thing you did to warrant whatever you got,” he sniffs, and I freeze. “Parents are bullshit.”
My head is spinning as I mumble, “They don’t deserve to know us…”
His despondence fades, lips twisting as if he likes that. “Agreed. But I wouldloveto see the looks on their faces when I—” His voice cuts out abruptly, eyes dropping to his feet.
My brows lift. “When you what…?”
“Never mind.”
“Byron…”
“It’s nothing, okay? Forget it,” he grumbles. “I’m in here forever. I’m never going to see them, or anyone else outside of this place, ever again, so it doesn’t matter. Can we just let it go, please?”
There’s depression in his aura now. It’s palpable, seeping into his movements, in every line of his face.
I don’t want to push him… He’s already given me so much of his honesty. I should be grateful for that. And I am.
But now I’m wondering what else he’s holding on to, aside from secrets.
Feelings for the love he was ripped away from…?
I don’t believe Byron hates his parents, like I do. He only wants their love and acceptance.
But what about someone else… Someone who’s wronged him?
“This place gives me the creeps…” he says when we reach the East Wing. “They had O’Malley down here for weeks before he was killed. Doing God knows what to him…”
“The experiments, yea?” I ask, and he nods. “Poor lad…”
I suppose I’m lucky. Riverwoods was bad, but it was nothing like this.
“Yup. That’s the beauty of Alabaster Isle.” He sighs. “Miles outside of any jurisdiction that would put a stop to the blatant human rights violations. Not to mention, rich fucks like Governor Russo backing everything…”
He immediately has both rage and despair in his eyes. My thoughts circle back to his vengeance.
Would Byron Kang take a taste of revenge if it were offered to him?
Before I can consider it too much, he changes the subject. “So you’ve wandered around down here a lot?”
“Nota lot…”
“Have you… seen Ren by any chance?” he asks, brown eyes sliding up to mine. I stare at him for a moment until he looks away. “I know he’s a shithead and everything, but still… If he’s down here, strapped to some chair like a mental patient—”
“He’s not,” I cut off his obvious pain with a blatant lie. His brows knit. “I mean, I haven’t seen him down here. They must be keeping him… somewhere else.”
Byron looks relieved, accepting the utter horseshit I just fed him.
Sure, I could’ve told him the truth.But then what??
I have him now… Yes, it’s selfish, and manipulative—the exact things he was accusing Luthor and Ren of—but still. Unlike them, I would never take him for granted. I will not let him sacrifice his own happiness for people who wouldn’t do the same for him. Not anymore.
“Want to see something?” I grab him by the arm, tugging him along.
Away from the row of cells where his so-calledfriendis being held.
