Bonds

Chapter 109

-Alex’s POV-

x’s Pov

The antiseptic tang assaulted my nostrils as I pushed past the clipboard–clutching nurse at the entrance. The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the entire scene, but it did nothing to dispel the cold dread that coiled in my gut. I wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, or forced smiles, or whatever small talk the nurses usually engaged in.

Just get me to him, that was all I wanted.

I practically stomped down the hallway, the echo of my footsteps bouncing off the pale walls. Finally, I reached the designated room, the numbers above the door blurring slightly as I shoved it open with unnecessary force. The scent intensified, mingling with the faint, metallic tang of blood that always seemed to cling to these places.

There he was.

Damon Thome.

A tangle of tubes snaked around him, feeding into machines that beeped and whirred with an unsettling rhythm. His chest rose and fell in shallow gasps. He looked worse, much worse, than he had during my last visit,

Part of me, a twisted, vengeful part, felt a flicker of satisfaction. He deserved this, this pathetic shadow of a man, for everything he’d taken away. But that feeling was quickly overshadowed by a wave of something far more potent- a crushing sense of loss,

I stood there for a long moment, rooted to the spot, a silent observer in this sterile tableau. The beeping of the machines, the rasp of his breath, the rhythmic click of my own fingernails against the cool metal railing around his bed – those were the only sounds that filled the oppressive silence.

His eyelids fluttered open then, revealing pale, watery orbs that scanned the room before landing on me. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, followed by a grimace that contorted his features in pain.

“Alex,” he rasped, his voice a dry whisper barely audible above the whirring machines.

I stared back at him, a million questions churning in my gut. Questions I’d carried with me for years, a bitter weight that had shaped me into the person I was today. Words stuck in my throat, a tangled knot of anger, resentment, and a deep, hollow ache.

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to force the first question out. “Why?”

single word, but it held the weight of a

Why the constant anger?

Why the relentless pressure?

the absence

shaky sigh, his chest hitching with the effort. His gaze drifted away from

Fear?-crossed his face momentarily, but it was gone as quickly as

between us, thick and suffocating. The rhythmic beeping of the machines seemed to mock the lack of response. My anger, simmering just below the surface,

Chapter 109

so quick to criticize. Where are your

me. All those years of pent–up anger, the hurt, the isolation, the constant fear – it all came flooding back, threatening to

voice a low growl. “Remember how you’d scowl, how your eyes would turn cold? Well, guess what? I don’t care anymore. I’m

to the bed, looming over him like a dark shadow.

in, my voice a

I snarled. “You took my childhood, twisted me into some weapon you thought you could control. You turned

contorted in a grimace of pain, whether physical or emotional, I couldn’t tell. But

unconditionally, who saw the good in me even when I

why!”

the last word, and for a moment, a sob threatened to tear from my throat. But I choked it back, forcing myself to remain composed. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of

silent, his labored breaths the only sound in the room. The machines beeped their monotonous rhythm, a constant reminder of his fragility. But to me, he wasn’t frail. He was a monster, a man who had built his

say now, do you?”

sparked in his cloudy eyes. He tried to speak, but a fit of coughing wracked his body, leaving him gasping for breath. I watched him with a cold detachment, a part of me hoping he wouldn’t be able to utter another word and after a seemingly endless struggle,

don’t understand.”

“I think I understand plenty. I understand that you were a cruel, selfish man who cared about nothing

mine. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, leaving a glistening track on his pale skin. “It wasn’t like that,” he whispered, his voice barely a croak. “It… it was

years of pain and suffering. But

“Tell me why you did it. Tell me why you took

grimace of pain, both physical and emotional, I was sure. A long, tense silence followed, broken only by the rhythmic beeping of the