My Domestica | My Bodyguard Book 2

Chapter 11 | Lambert

Geralt POV

Geralt half glared at Jaskier a moment longer, frustrated with the world in general but particularly himself and the man beside him. But mostly himself. He should have realized. Should have never made the mistakes he did. He should have dug his heels in, fought for someone else to be assigned to either client. He could have done things far better than he had.

But Jaskier wanted to know the truth. The man blamed himself, and wanted the truth. Find. Geralt could do that much. In Hoboken way, but he could still do it.

"She teamed up with a group of men to attack the locals. I killed them. She attacked me instead. I killed her." And that was what he had, even if there was more to say. He was glad of the light so that he could see Jaskier's face, but it cast shadows around them and made him feel as if the walls were starting to close in on him.

He was certain his hands were stained. How could they not be? A bodyguard who turned on their own client was the second worst kind of traitor, only above betraying Witcher Corps. He was shunned. He was attacked and driven off. Geralt took the abuse silently each time. It was no less than what he deserved.

Julian POV

Jaskier raised a eyebrow at Geralt after processing what the man had just said. He sighed lightly as he put a hand to his forehead, running his hand through his hair as he put his hand back down on the bed.

Jaskier took full responsibility for Renfris death as much as he could. But he had not directly killed Renfri but the blood was still on his hands. But hers was only a droplet among others. Did Geralt not understand what Jaskier meant when he said he was drenched in blood? Did he not realise the hundreds of people he had cleaned up, some not being able to save from infection and some killing because of deformities and ridding of miscarriages.

"So how the hell do you fit blaming yourself in there. Me, I understand. I blame myself for her death as much as I do the other hundreds of people's I have on my hands. And I mean hundreds, Geralt. I am scum. But you. You're clean, you acted in self defense. It was her or you and you had a job to do. Sometimes all you have to choose between is bad. Both utter shit. But you still had to chose one." he said as he kept staring at Geralt as he spoke his face flat and nstraight, not a hint of humour to be found. Nor sympathy. Nor guilt. Just pure fact.

Jaskier moved, standing up off of the bed and shook his leg out slightly, his knee throbbed slightly from the kick but it would go in time.

"I'll give you some room to breathe. I'll be downstairs if you need me." he said as he gave Geralt a small nod and turned towards the door to leave.

Geralt POV

Geralt was at fault here, why didn't Jaskier understand that? The man had dragged him away but it was Geralt who had failed to recover. Geralt who had driven his blade through their bodies when he could have tried to merely render them unconscious. No, this was his mistake. He shouldn't have even come on this trip. He could have gone on with life without ever knowing Jaskier was alive again, and then he could have been fine. Or more fine than he was.

The lesser evil, was that what Jaskier was trying to say? No, there had been a whole drama with 'choosing the lesser evil' in Blaviken. He was done with that phrase, and the choosing. He would rather not choose at all.

He watched as Jaskier left, and didn't say anything. Good. He did, in fact, need room. But the man's scent still lingered. Geralt was going to have to retreat elsewhere for the remainder of the night. It had to be close to dawn. It had been four when he turned off his phone, he had checked the device's clock. Time has passed since then.