Page 13 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)
The onslaught of colors, shapes, and smells combined with the euphoria of freedom of movement intoxicated him.
For a few long minutes, he stood there, transfixed, rubbing a pale, yellow-streaked leaf between his fingers.
He stared up at the white stone wall, overgrown with thick wild vines that had already begun to turn yellow.
Clusters of tiny black grapes hung here and there.
Climbing up to the roof balustrade, the vines consumed most of the white stone but skillfully avoided windows and prominent ornaments.
Above the porch, made of the same white stone, was a broken pediment, though Kuon could not make out the heraldic symbol in its center.
Seeing again was amazing, but the most satisfying thing was experiencing productive solitude.
For the first time in months, he was alone but not lonely.
Finally, he felt in control of his body and wasn’t just a blind, helpless passenger.
He no longer needed help to go out or perform simple tasks.
Realizing how much pressure relying on others put on him and how it affected his self-esteem made him appreciate the feeling of freedom.
The freedom to do what he wanted, and right now, he wanted to jog.
The need to be active burned from within. His muscles itched with accumulated energy. The inability to spend it because of the doctor’s orders was frustrating, so instead of jogging, he walked, walked, and walked.
Surveying his surroundings for the first time, he couldn’t help noticing that the territory around the mansion was vast yet somehow neglected.
All land beyond the front driveway remained uncultivated.
Apart from a few distant structures, presumably servants’ quarters or outbuildings, near the main building, Kuon saw nothing notable.
There were only guard towers with armed men and a solid green fence that easily doubled his height.
For some time, he followed the wall, but the sun, seemingly having an agenda to eradicate all life, made him duck into the forest before he reached the end of one side.
His lungs tingled with fresh air saturated with the intoxicating scent of bitter wormwood. Even though his cheeks were slightly fevered from being out in the sun too long, he didn’t want to go back.
He remembered his days in captivity when the thought of exploring the mansion and its surroundings had become his obsession. Now that he could finally reach the previously inaccessible areas without alerting the security team, he hoped he could stop thinking of Yugo’s house as a prison.
As the shadows lengthened and the green grass turned orange, he headed for the mansion but stopped short. A low murmur of water caressed his ear, singing a siren’s song. His heart stuttered, as did his feet.
As if mesmerized, he turned to face the noise that grew louder with each step. Time slowed as images from the past revived in his mind.
The night hit the earth without warning.
One moment, Kuon threw stones into the clear raging waters; the next, darkness fell on the ground.
Within a few blinks, it was impossible to see anything even without sunglasses, so finding the way back to the mansion took long enough for the stars to emerge.
The lit-up windows cast yellow rectangles on the trimmed grass.
Night birds screamed in the air, their black wings flapping.
The white stone facade was dressed in blue.
A few people in casual clothes smoked next to the porch.
He ignored their curious glances as he pushed through the main doors.
Just as he’d thought, it was much easier to process his memories and deal with his tangled emotions outside.
The air inside felt oppressive and didn’t fill his lungs.
Lost in thought, he paid no attention to Greg’s long, quizzical stare, but the heavy atmosphere that engulfed the mansion was impossible to ignore.
Alert, he climbed the stairs and stealthily approached the wide-open bedroom door.
The icy water squelching in his tennis shoe on the way back had warmed up by the time he entered the dark room and no longer bothered him.
The full moon hung low, right above the windowsill, washing the fireplace and the front paws of the wolf pelt in a dead blue.
Closer to the door, spots of yellow light from the hallway shone off its hind paws.
The high mirrors reflected the empty bed picked out in bluish, neon radiance, alien to this part of the room.
Sure that his eyes were deceiving him, Kuon turned, squinted, and moved closer to the epicenter of the confusion. An aperture in the wall gaped behind the nightstand; the bluish glow emanated from within. With his palm resting on the edge, he peered inside.
In a relatively narrow, windowless room, lit by two rows of monitors mounted on a desk, Yugo sat hunched over his keyboard in an office chair.
His white shirt creased over his shoulders but stretched around his back so tightly that his skin color showed through.
His rolled-up sleeves revealed toned forearms as his fingers raked through his hair, messing up his not-so-long-ago perfect haircut.
He didn’t notice the intrusion, so Kuon took another moment to look around while he could.
The narrow, trapezoidal room was so cleverly squeezed between the bathroom and bedroom that it was hard to believe that so much space was hidden.
He had always assumed that some space was taken up by the ventilation system, plumbing, and boilers, but never thought there was an entire room hidden behind the wall.
Blurred and vague, a metal rack loomed at the far end. Black boxes on the shelves reminded him of the police evidence archive; white, blurry labels on the sides only increased the resemblance.
While in captivity, he would have killed to know this room existed. He’d spent months tormented by isolation, when the Internet had been behind that door all along.
Why have I never noticed this… what is it, a panic room?
The air here was a few degrees cooler than in the bedroom, but no matter how hard he strained his eyes, he couldn’t see a refrigerator, sink, or even a bucket, let alone a toilet bowl.
I guess not… I wonder if there’s an emergency exit … He searched the ceiling for an air conditioner. The powerful ventilation system installed in the ceiling might serve as an escape route.
For some reason, he felt deceived.
“Has it always been here?” His words echoed through the small room as his foot crossed the threshold.
Yugo spun around. The office chair creaked, rattled, and slammed against the desk.
In an instant, he was on his feet, towering over Kuon.
They were about the same height, and after Afghanistan, Kuon had become slightly broader than him, but the anger rolling out of Yugo in invisible waves made him feel cramped, as if the man had taken up the entire space.
“Where the fuck have you been?” The air shifted, and iron fingers sank into Kuon’s biceps, sending jolts of pain down his arm. Gray, cold eyes locked on him as Yugo yanked his arm and hissed in his face, “Answer me.”
Kuon winced, stunned by the unexpected assault. “Just out. Let go, you’re hurting me.”
“Out? Alone?” A deep crease cut between Yugo’s brows as he inched closer, washing Kuon in bittersweet tobacco. An angry glare scanned his face, as if searching for signs of deception.
Suspicion touched the edge of his mind as Tobias’ words rang in his ears.
“Look at you, living back in your former kennel with such eagerness. Guarding your territory, barking at intruders. Impressive, Puppy, impressive. Enjoy your domain, but don’t forget that a leash is a leash, even if it’s not around your neck. How long is yours?”
With his nails biting into palms, he glared back. Trying to keep the growing annoyance out of his voice, he said, “Yes, alone. Why are you pissed? Am I not allowed to leave your bedroom?”
A shadow of confusion crossed Yugo’s face when he failed to retort. It looked as if he’d never actually considered such a possibility.
“Seriously?” The annoyance escalated into a mild rage. “Am I a prisoner here again and not allowed to leave?”
“Of course not.” Yugo let go of Kuon’s arm.
With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair, brushing back the loose raven strands.
“I didn’t expect to find an empty bedroom, and you were nowhere to be found.
You’re late for dinner and meds. Next time you go out, let someone know so I don’t have to go looking for you.
The house is big; the grounds are even bigger.
It’s easy to get lost there. I always need to know where to find you. ”
“This wouldn’t be an issue if you hadn’t thrown away my phone.” Kuon rubbed his bicep where Yugo’s fingers had been gripping; the pain still lingered.
“I’ll buy you a new one.” The ice thawed in the gray eyes, but they didn’t lose their intensity.
With one hand, Yugo reached out and pulled a blade of grass from Kuon’s hair, then gave him a slow once-over.
His voice was deep and soft, but still carried a hint of irritation.
“Care to explain where you’ve been? Why do you look like you’ve been rolling on the ground? ”
Kuon looked down. His jeans had a green grass stain on his shin; the other leg was soaked up to his knee. “I was at the river. My foot slipped.”
Yugo’s eyes narrowed, lips curled into a snarl. “It’s a mountain river. It’s not safe to wade in. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”
“That’s all I’ve been doing. Remembering.” The quiet words left his mouth before Kuon could stop them.
Yugo flinched as if he had been slapped. His jaw worked, and he shook his head. Something akin to disappointment crossed his features for a split-second, and he sized the former cop up again. Not a hint of irony found its way into his voice when he asked, “Successfully, I hope?”