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?”

but it held the weight of a thousand

Why the constant anger?

Why the relentless pressure?

the absence

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

his face momentarily, but

of the machines seemed to mock the lack of response. My anger, simmering just below the surface, began

Chapter 109

so quick to criticize. Where are your words now? Where’s your booming voice

tone, but still remained silent. Frustration gnawed at me. All those years of pent–up anger,

growl. “Remember how you’d scowl, how your

bed, looming over him like a dark shadow. The beeping of

voice a low, dangerous

snarled. “You took my childhood, twisted me into some weapon you thought you could control. You turned our home into a prison,

of pain, whether physical or emotional, I couldn’t tell. But

person who loved me unconditionally, who saw the good in me even when I

why!”

tear from my throat. But I choked

in the room. The machines beeped their monotonous rhythm, a constant reminder of his fragility. But to me,

have nothing to say now, do you?” I

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

don’t understand.”

understand plenty. I understand that you were a cruel, selfish man who cared about nothing but power and

from 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 part of me knew it wouldn’t.

me why

closed his eyes again, his face etched with a grimace of pain, both physical and emotional, I was sure. A long, tense silence followed, broken