Chapter 61 Chapter 61

Chapter 61 Chapter 61
DOMINIC'S POV

The island was quiet.

Too quiet. The waves lapped against the shore. The wind rustled through the palm trees. The sun was setting over the water, painting everything in shades of orange and gold. It was beautiful. It was peaceful. It was a prison.

I walked through the sand toward the small house at the center of the island. The house was white. Simple. Unassuming. No one would ever guess what was inside. No one would ever guess who was inside.

The guard nodded at me as I approached. I nodded back. He unlocked the door. I stepped inside.

The room was small. The windows were covered. The only light came from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. In the center of the room sat a chair. And in the chair sat Marcus Vane.

He was thinner than the last time I had seen him. His face was pale. His eyes were dark. His wrists were bound to the arms of the chair. His ankles were bound to the legs. He looked tired. He looked broken. He looked exactly like his brother.

"Dominic," he said. His voice was flat. Hollow.

"Marcus."

"Come to gloat?"

"No."

"Come to torture me?"

"No."

"Then why are you here?"

I pulled up a chair. Sat down across from him. The metal legs scraped against the concrete floor. The sound was loud in the quiet room.

"I want to talk," I said.

"About what?"

"About your brother."

Marcus laughed. The sound was bitter. "You want to talk about Cassian? After everything you have done? After everything you are still doing?"

"Yes."

"You are insane."

"Probably."

"You are obsessed."

"Absolutely."

"You are sick."

"I know."

Marcus leaned back in his chair. His eyes were on me. Cold. Calculating.

"He will never accept you," he said. "He already knows you kidnapped me. He already knows you are using me to control him. He will never forgive you."

I smiled. "I know."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because I do not need his forgiveness. I just need him."

"He will never love you."

"He already loves me."

"He does not. He hates you."

"He hates me because he loves me. There is a difference."

Marcus stared at me. His jaw was tight. His hands were clenched into fists.

"You are delusional," he said.

"Maybe."

"You are pathetic."

"Probably."

"You are a monster."

"Absolutely."

I stood up. Walked to the window. Pulled back the curtain. The sun was setting over the water. The sky was red and orange and pink. It was beautiful. It made me think of Cassian. His hair. His skin. The way he looked when he was angry.

"I have been in love with your brother since I was fifteen years old," I said.

Marcus was quiet.

"I was standing by the front doors of the middle school. He walked past me. He was wearing a blue sweater. His glasses were crooked. He looked at me. Just for a second. Then he looked away. His ears turned red."

"That is pathetic."

"I know. But it is the truth."

I turned around. Walked back to the chair. Sat down. Leaned forward. My elbows on my knees. My eyes on Marcus.

"I have been obsessed with him since that day. Every moment. Every hour. Every second. I have thought about him. Dreamed about him. Wanted him. More than anything. More than anyone."

"Then why did you hurt him?"

"Because he hurt me first."

"How?"

"He kissed me. In a study. When we were fifteen. He kissed me and then he ran. He left me there. Alone. Broken. He never looked back."

Marcus was quiet. His eyes were searching my face.

"So you decided to destroy him?"

"I decided to make him feel what I felt."

"And now?"

"And now I love him more than ever. And I cannot stop. I do not want to stop."

I stood up again. Walked to a cabinet in the corner. Opened it. Pulled out a stack of papers. Sketches. Dozens of them. I walked back to Marcus. Dropped them on his lap.

"Look at them," I said.

He looked down. His eyes widened.

"What are these?"

"Look at them."

He picked up the first one. A sketch of Cassian. His head bent over a book. His glasses slipping down his nose.

"Where did you get these?"

"I drew them."

"You drew these?"

"Every single one."

He picked up another. Cassian laughing. His head thrown back. His throat exposed.

"Seven years," I said. "I have been drawing him for seven years. Every day. Every night. Every moment I could not sleep. Every moment I could not breathe."

Marcus was silent. His hands were shaking.

"I have hundreds of them. Thousands. I have filled entire rooms with them. Walls covered in his face. His hands. His eyes. The way he looks when he is angry. The way he looks when he is tired. The way he looks when he is happy."

I knelt down in front of him. My eyes were on his.

"Do you know what it is like? To want someone so badly it consumes you? To need someone so desperately you cannot function without them?"

Marcus did not answer.

"I have tried to stop. I have tried to forget him. I have tried to move on. I have done everything I could. Nothing worked."

"So you decided to kidnap me?"

"I decided to do whatever it takes."

"You are insane."

"Probably."

"He will never love you. Not after this. Not after everything."

"He already loves me."

"He hates you."

"He loves me. He hates me. Same thing."

I stood up. Walked back to the cabinet. Put the sketches away. Closed the door. Turned to face Marcus.

"I am going to keep him," I said. "I am going to keep him forever. He can fight me. He can hate me. He can try to run. I do not care. I will always find him. I will always bring him back. He is mine. He has always been mine. He will always be mine."

Marcus stared at me. His face was pale. His eyes were wide.

"You are not going to let him go," he said.

"No."

"Even if it destroys him?"

"He will not be destroyed. He will be mine."

"And what about me? What happens to me?"

"You stay here. Until I am sure he is not going to run."

"You cannot keep me here forever."

"I can. And I will."

Marcus was quiet for a long moment. Then he laughed. A hollow sound.

"You are pathetic," he said.

"Probably."

"You think you can force someone to love you?"

"I think I can force someone to stay."

"And then what?"

"And then I will spend the rest of my life making him happy."

"You do not know how to make anyone happy."

"I know how to make him happy. I know everything about him. What he likes. What he hates. What makes him smile. What makes him laugh. I know him better than anyone. Better than you. Better than his father. Better than anyone."

Marcus shook his head. His eyes were wet.

"He deserves better than you," he said.

"I know."

"But he loves you anyway."

The words hit me like a punch to the chest.

"What?"

"You heard me. He loves you. He has always loved you. He told me. Before all of this. Before you destroyed him. Before you left him. He told me he loved you."

I stared at him. My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking.

"When?"

"The night before you left for Italy. He called me. He was crying. He said he loved you. He said he was scared. He said he did not know what to do."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I want you to know. I want you to know what you destroyed. I want you to know what you threw away."

I stood there. My hands were shaking. My heart was pounding. The words echoed in my head.

He loves me. He has always loved me.

I had always known it. I had always felt it. But hearing it from his brother. Hearing it out loud. It was different.

I walked to the door. Paused with my hand on the handle.

"I am going to make this right," I said.

"Can you?"

"Yes."

"Even if it kills you?"

"Even if it kills me."

I walked out. The door closed behind me. The guard locked it. I walked through the sand. Toward the water. The waves lapped against the shore. The wind rustled through the palm trees. The sun had set. The sky was dark.

I stood at the edge of the water. Stared out at the ocean.

I had done terrible things. I had hurt the only person I had ever loved. I had destroyed everything good in my life. I had become a monster.

But I would make it right.

I would spend the rest of my life making it right.

Even if it killed me.