Page 79 of Vengeful King

He heard, didn’t he?Is he going after Yuri?

If he is, I can’t go with him. I need to see my mother. I need to know if she’s okay.

I reach out without thinking, my hand catching Lachlan’s arm. He only looks at me long enough to say, “Get ready.”

I don’t know what he means. But I know I have to trust him.

I scramble to get dressed. Lachlan walks through the house as I do, arming himself—it’s surreal, watching him go from a regular man to someone in the mafia in the blink of an eye. I see the guns but I still don’t really register that he could kill someone.

Hewillkill someone, if it comes to it.

He’s preparing for something. I don’t know if he’s preparing for war or not—but he hasn’t called his brothers. So the more he moves around, the more I start to realize he’s going to help me. He’s going to take me to see my mother.

I don’t think anymore. I just want to see my mother, make sure she’s okay. All I can think about is how I didn’t see her yesterday, how I should have seen her.

Why didn’t I visit her? Why did I ever leave her alone?

The last time we spoke, she didn’t really remember me. I don’t want that to be the last time I ever saw her. I always hoped that in the end, she would know me, even if just for a few moments.

I had this idea in my head of how she would go, of how it would be pleasant and not as horrifying as the rest of her illness has been.

But I should have known when I got mixed up in this mafia business that there was a real chance it wouldn’t happen. There was a risk that my mother would just be collateral, and someone with no heart would come after her for my mistakes. My shortcomings.

I just hope that hasn’t happened yet.

Lachlan rushes me into his car and peels out of the driveway. I hardly notice how fast he’s driving; it still isn’t fast enough. I wish I could just teleport there, blink and appear in her room to make sure she’s okay.

Every second we’re driving, I lose control just a little more. I can feel tears sting my eyes, though I force them back. I feel my leg jumping with nervous energy, my heart thudding in my chest. Every cell in my body is screaming at me to run, even though I know it wouldn’t be faster. I just have tomove.

But we finally pull up to the facility and I have the door open before the car comes to a full stop. Lachlan gets out too; he flips his shirt up just enough to easily reach his gun. He’s not going in with it drawn, but I can feel he’s ready to pull it in the blink of an eye.

I follow him into the building. We don’t stop at the front; the nurses know me, and I hope they can sense that it’s important. I hope they know that I’m about to fall apart, terrified of what I’m about to find.

I rush into my mother’s room without stopping to prepare myself. I don’t care about what I might be walking into; I just have to know she’s okay.

But she’s not okay. I’m too late.

I stop just short of her bed. It feels like a dream, the light outside her window too bright. I’m almost floating in place, not really touching anything, disconnected.

She’s already dead.

The logical part of my brain notes the way she looks—the stillness in her face, the disarray of the sheets. The way her pillow is placed behind her head.

I think she’s been smothered.

All I can think about is how that’s what the disease has been doing to her. It’s been smothering her, little by little, taking away the oxygen of her memories while she succumbs to the emptiness that they leave in their wake. It’s been a long, slow death.

But this isn’t a mercy. This is wrong.

I’ve never felt crushed in the way that I do now. That’s the only word for it—crushed. Everything is compressed, everything broken down into concentrated despair.

The shock of it ripples through me. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing; my brain refuses to process it. Even as I stare at her body, I can’t connect it to the woman I know. The mother I love. This isn’t her; it can’t be her.

Though I know deep inside that it is.

I turn and see something—someone—flash by in the hall. Lachlan sees it, too; he starts chasing after the person.

It must be Yuri.

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