Distorted Affliction

Chapter Twelve

Lucas moved slowly, holding a glass in one hand as he poured himself a drink with the other. He moved the glass to his lips, taking a slow pull from the whiskey and swallowing tentatively. Then, he topped the glass off again, taking his time with every deliberate movement.  Only when he was satisfied did he turn to face us again, and I could feel the tension growing inside of me.

He seemed to be relishing in the fact that he held the key to everything. Only Lucas knew the answers, and he was biding his time giving them to me. Sin had warned that trying to unravel that depth of compulsion all at once was dangerous, but I felt as though I was handling the news pretty well, all things considered.

"Whenever you're ready," I sighed in frustration, throwing my arm up and letting it drop into my lap to emphasize how annoyed I felt at his stalling. "It's not like I just spent the last seven months convinced my child was dead, only to find out that my ex husband just compelled me to forget the truth, and instead of giving me the answers, he's just standing around with his dick in his hand like the egotistical bastard he's always been. At least you've got that going for you, consistency."

Lucas's face hardened, and I could see the flame light behind his eyes as he glared at me. I had seen a similar look to that a number of times in our relationship when we had fought. It was the look that told me he knew I was right.

"Funny," he spat, setting his glass down on the table between us before taking a seat on the sofa. "I bet you really believe you have all of this figured out, don't you August? Ya know, I'm not entirely sure how I managed to stay married to you for as long as I did. I guess I was more tolerant as a human."

Sin hovered on the edge of the room, leaning against the door frame with a glass of bourbon between his fingers. I could see that he was doing his absolute best to remain neutral, to restrain himself from joining a fight that wasn't his to join. He wanted no part of whatever marital problems we were discussing, and to be entirely honest, neither did I.

"Your ego will be the death of you, Lucas," I spat, narrowing my eyes at him.

"You're a psychotic bitch," he countered, venom behind his words. "Surely you must know that by now, though."

The frustration in the pit of my stomach was churning itself into anger, warming my chest as I wrung my hands together. I wanted to set fire to everything around him, to show him what crazy was. The anger boiled into rage and spilled over until I couldn't help the way my hands were shaking. I could feel Sin's gaze on my skin, monitoring my response to ensure I didn't burn us all to the ground.

"You left me!" I yelled, standing to my feet and leaning forward to loom over him. "You took our son, compelled me to forget everything, made me believe that he was dead, Lucas. For months I wondered if it had been my own fault, if there was something I could have done better, some way I could have saved him. I remember--"

"They weren't real, August," Lucas interjected, and I felt myself snap. I swung my hand out, catching the glass of whiskey off the table and sending it flying across the room. It hit the wall with a thud and then shattered, sending broken pieces of glass sliding across the floor.

"It doesn't matter!" My voice was acidic, and Lucas could feel the sting. He flinched, and I watched as he assessed my body language for incoming threats. "It doesn't matter if the memories were real or not, Lucas. I didn't know that, all I knew was the absolute soul-shattering feeling of grief, feeling like an entire part of me had been cut away. Real or not, I felt every ounce of pain any mother would feel if she believed her child, her infant had been snatched from this world without warning."

"And you just walked away and left me to believe that he was gone," I continued, my voice breaking. "You at least got to carry the knowledge that he was okay; I believed he was gone, and then you were gone and I was all alone. You didn't even compel me to believe that I would get through it, you just let me suffer on my own for months. There were several nights I almost ended everything, Lucas. I couldn't imagine a world without my son, and I didn't want to even try."