He said sorry

He said sorry
VINCE

The sorcerer and Luke helped me to my feet, and I was gently led into a dimly lit room.

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to see inside this squalid place. I asked for Trent and there's no fucking way he's in here.

My nostrils were getting sensitive to the ancient dust lingering in the room. Luke was in a coughing fit. The sorcerer remained the only unaffected one between us.

I was going to ask them what they were bringing me into this den for, but the sorcerer had already turned on the little light in the room, and it shone directly on the body lying on the floor.

A body covered with a mat.

Nausea clenched my throat. My nerves twitched dangerously. My heart was slamming insanely against the walls of my chest.

That better not be Trent.

“I'm really sorry, man,” Luke said, stirring up the bloody emotions I didn't wanna feel. I shut them down quickly, but my eyes were still glued to the body.

That better not be my son.

“He died trying to protect you, Vince,” Luke added.

“Nah, that doesn't sound right.” Nothing about that sounds right at all. Why would he try to protect me? We're fucking enemies. And-and why would he die? I haven't decided I wanna kill him yet. He has no right to die without my permission.

Wake the fuck up, you idiot!

“It might not sound right but that's really what happened. When the fight got intense, he got involved-”

“In his human form or his wolf form?”

“He fought in his wolf form but he was killed in his human form.”

“What did his wolf look like?” While I had the chance to morph into my wolf during my teenage years, I don't know if Trent has ever done that. I never gave him the chance to. And I don't know if he did when we separated.

Asking what his wolf looked like made me feel like shit. As his father, I should know that. I shouldn't have to ask a complete stranger.

“He looked a little like those rogues. He looked a little like you, Vince. He's half pure blood.”

Half, because Vanessa is pure blood. So it's true then. I've got rogue blood, and I passed it on to my son, and now he's gone.

“Who killed him?” My voice was betraying me.

“He was already weak from being forced to reject Elena.”

Did I hear that right?

“He rejected her?”

“Yes. Declan's minions forced him to. He was already weak from that and then he joined the fight. They badly injured him. He morphed back into his human wolf and then…”

“Then what?” I was slowly losing my shit.

“Declan's sidekick shot him.”

“Stray bullet or was he directly aimed at?”

“He was aimed at. Declan's sidekick shot him three times.”

The loud echoing in my head was the familiar hunger for revenge. But the hollow digging in my heart was the silent grief over losing a loved one.

I wasn't sure which of the emotions I should lean into. Revenge or grief.

“He said to tell you he was sorry,” Luke added, and that almost broke me apart.

“You got the chance to speak to him before he died?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he be sorry? He was fucking cruel. He messed with my friends. He messed with Elena. He messed with my daughter. He shouldn't be sorry after all that. He should be a brave fucking villain and die with his mouth shut!”

My outburst was met with aggressive pain in my gut, forcing me to groan. Luke held me tighter because I was almost losing my balance.

God, I wanna die!

How do I handle this complicated agony? Should I throw a fucking party to celebrate his death, or do I grieve as a Father?

I'd throw a party if he hadn't apologized. I'd be fucking ecstatic about his death if he hadn't tried playing hero for me during the last hours of his life.

That just complicated everything. It complicated the hate I supposedly felt for him. Now I can't help but think of him as my son.

And seeing him lying lifeless in a dirty room deep in the woods is triggering me so badly. Even if he wants to die, it shouldn't be here.

He's a Walker, for fuck's sake. He should die in a more beautiful place. Not in this hellhole.

“Contact Miguel. Tell him I wanna come home. And I have a dead body so they should make preparations on how to carry it along.”

“I already contacted him. He's on his way.”

My eyes were twitching but there were no tears in them. All I could do was stare at him. I wasn't sure what I was thinking. But there were thoughts. Regretful thoughts.

“Maybe in another life, you two will have a better father-son relationship.” The sorcerer said before leaving the room.

Maybe in another life, I won't be born. It's too much pain. So much agony. I'm barely hanging on right now.

Miguel arrived with enough entourage to take care of me, Luke, and Trent. The sorcerer warned me against fighting the rogues but I wish he knew he was wasting his time. I don't only intend to fight. I intend to end this. Once and for all.

We got to my Pack at dawn. I got out of the car with ample help from Miguel and Luke.

Richard and Leo were waiting outside the building and they immediately hurried over to us.

“Dude, look at you. A big mess.” Leo chuckled, holding on to my arm.

“It's good to have you back, man.” Richard smiled. But his puffy eyes were a dead giveaway.

Leo might be better at hiding emotions but Richard wasn't. They already heard about Trent. And Richard seems to have cried a river.

I don't need to ask why he's bothering to cry over Trent after all the hurt he brought to his family. Richard is a good soul. He's empathetic to a fault. And he used to have a great relationship with Trent before everything went downhill.

I guess all those good memories came flooding in and he broke down.

What kinda irked me was the fact that even Richard could cry for him. But why can't I? Why can't I bring myself to shed a fucking tear for my son?

Do I hate him that much? If I did, then my heart wouldn't be aching so badly right now. So why can't I fucking cry? Why can't I let out these emotions I feel?

“Dress him up. The burial rites will commence in an hour.” I said to Miguel as we got inside the building.

He nodded and left. The guys helped me up the stairs and into my bedroom. They gently dropped me on my bed.

The brief silence was suffocating. I've never been in a room with this much emotion lingering around as right now.

“Leo, tell my men to bring out Vanessa. She needs to say her last goodbyes to her son.”

“Sure.” He nodded and left.

“Are you doing okay, Vince?” Richard's warm voice was weirdly painful. I didn't wanna be pitied. At least not right now.

“No. I'm not okay.” I replied bluntly and turned to Luke. “Send a letter to Declan's sidekick. Pick a time and place. He better be there or I'm storming inside that Pack and he's not gonna like how that's gonna end for him. Tell him that.”

“Vince, c'mon—”

“No, Richard.” I raised a hand, stopping whatever peace talk he was trying to cook up. “Don't do that. If I can't even avenge my son's death, then I'm really good for nothing. Trent might be a goddamn crap but Declan's sidekick had no right to shoot him down like he was fucking hunting an animal. Of all the people in the world, the least person who should have touched my son was that bastard. That fucking nobody. And I need to make him realize what a huge mistake he made.”

“And after that? Is it gonna bring Trent back to life? Are you gonna feel okay?”

“There's no chance I'm ever gonna feel okay in this lifetime. I'm always gonna feel bitter, miserable, and broken. Until I take my last fucking breath.”

“So why kill the boy?”

“Because he has to die. He needs to go keep my son company in the afterlife. And you can preach peace all you want but let's face it, this whole thing is only gonna end when one last blood is spilled. Mine or Declan's.”