𝐕𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐃 ❷

𝟑𝟏. ✭ 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 ✭

With one arm outstretched, still aimed at the dead man in the chair, I lower the other to Torey. "Come on, get up." He grabs ahold of it and I pull him into a standing position. I place the safety back on and then flip the gun, handing it back to Torey. He numbly takes it and puts it in the back of his pants. He's shirtless, streaks of blood are all over him. This Torey is the one that I'd met initially, not the man that I'd gotten to know recently. He's eyeing the dead man with a face that doesn't hold much of anything at all. "This isn't you anymore, Tor. This isn't who you are."

"Isn't it, though?"

"It doesn't have to be."

"This," he flings an arm out to the body as his blazing blues find mine, "this is exactly who we have to be. It's who we are."

"It doesn't have to be all that we are. We are more than the violence that we can inflict. You are more than that." He just shakes his head at me in disbelief. "It's the truth whether you want to believe it or not."

"You don't understand." His voice goes several octaves lower as he adds, "I liked it. I enjoyed it. The pain I inflicted made me feel... good." Because Torey finally felt in control of something again. "I wanted Adriana to kill him."

"Why?"

"Because then it would've made sense— what I am."

My features scrunch together slightly at my sudden confusion. "What do you mean, what you are?"

"A natural born killer. Murder runs in my family's veins. This lifestyle— what I am."

"That's not quite how that works, Tor."

"But it does!" He begins pacing as he continues, "Adri has always been different, though. She's always been more like our father when it comes to being reserved about certain things."

"Murdering someone isn't something people should just be willing to do. I'd say anyone being reserved about that is a healthy, normal thing. Taking someone's life is a heavy burden to carry for anyone."

"But not for us?" His eyes snap to mine. "Why don't we struggle with the same moral qualms? What is it that makes us different if not our DNA?"

"Firstly, we were trained to do so. Secondly, out of necessity. It was our job." Specific faces cross my line of vision, ones that will haunt me till the day I die. "That doesn't mean it doesn't effect us. It's just different."

"It's not normal to want to inflict pain on others."

"That isn't what that is about." I point over to the body.

"What the fuck are you talking about? If it wasn't about that then what was it?"

"Control, Torey. I am talking about your need to control situations, things, people. You do that because inside of here," I point to my head, "and inside of here," I point to the center of my chest, "you are completely out of it."

"You're full of shit."

"Am I?" His features harden as he glares at me. I take a step forward, getting in his personal space. "Tell me again how 'in control' you were a few moments ago when you were on your knees. Tell me how you feel right now. I doubt it's 'in control'."

"Fuck. Off." He shoves me back, hard, slamming me into the wall.

"Or what? You going to have another episode and freak the fuck out? Lose your complete shit on me?" He takes a deliberate step toward me, looking like he's about to erupt. This version of Torey, that posture and look, intimidates everyone. Everyone but me. "I am not scared of you."