Page 23 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

Fighting for every breath, Kuon dragged his gaze around the dark room, trying to anchor his mind to reality and shake off the unreasonable afterglow of fear.

With each object recognized, the deafening hammering of his heart faded, and the screeching of the night birds grew louder.

He filled his lungs to full capacity, held the air in until his chest started burning, then slowly exhaled.

The crumpled sheets clung to his skin. His hair stuck to his forehead.

He brushed them away and rubbed his face with his palms before casting a glance over his shoulder.

Yugo slept on his back, occupying Kuon’s side of the bed, closer to the window and the secret room.

His arms were folded under his head, legs spread wide.

A corner of the sheet covered his hips. He looked serene and relaxed.

At another time, Kuon would have taken a moment to appreciate the view, but the dark room suffocated him, and the sweat-soaked bed no longer appealed.

He scoffed softly and got up, intending to take a cold shower, but his legs, as if they had a mind of their own, carried him around the bed.

He touched the wallpaper, tracing a seam and pausing at a hair-thin crack.

It was nearly imperceptible. If he hadn’t spent the last few months fiddling with the Rubik’s Cube for the visually impaired, he might never have felt it.

But the prominent dots and bars seemed to have trained his fingers for extra sensitivity.

He licked his index finger and brought it back to the crack but felt no draft.

Whoever built this room knew what they were doing.

“I can’t believe it was here the whole time,” he whispered to himself.

Carefully, trying not to make a sound, Kuon grabbed the wall lamp and pulled just to try his luck. As expected, it didn’t move, but this time, he detected a smooth metal plate under his index finger.

The biometric scanner? His mind raced, a plan forming even before his finger parted from the cool plate.

“Kuon, curiosity killed the cat.” A hoarse voice called from behind, making his heart leap. “You must accept that there will be things I will not discuss with you and places you cannot enter.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said without flinching. “I still can’t believe I never knew about this room. Who else can enter it?”

“Only Greg and I. Now get your ass back here.” Without waiting for him to obey, a strong hand wrapped around his forearm and yanked him out of his thoughts.

The room swirled before his eyes, and the mattress bounced under his back, warm and dry on Yugo’s side.

Four limbs wrapped around him, stripping away mobility.

Yugo rested his chin in the crook of his neck and whispered, “Sleep.”

Kuon rolled his eyes, knowing too well that Yugo wouldn’t let go. At least not now.

Only Greg, huh… If Yugo risked opening this door while I was gone to check the footage, does that mean the only copy is stored in there? If so, he won’t dare go in while I’m in the room. I have time, at least until the next visit to the doc.

He closed his eyes obediently, trying to block out the stuffiness, but his mind wouldn’t stop racing.

I gotta get in. It’s too late to turn back. Even if I tell Yugo about the SIM card and Tobias now, he’ll think I only came clean because I found out about the cameras. No, the footage has to vanish before he watches it.

The dawn smeared pink and yellow light across the dark wooden floor. With each passing moment, the room brightened as gaps in the curtains let in more light, hinting that the sun was about to rise.

After wrestling with Yugo’s omnipresent limbs and heat for the rest of the night, Kuon didn’t feel particularly energetic.

But staying in bed any longer was agonizing, especially since his mind never rested.

Carefully, Kuon extricated himself from the prison of crumpled sheets and Yugo’s embrace, pulled on his sweatpants and T-shirt, grabbed his MP3 player and shades, then picked up his tennis shoes on the way out.

He put them on outside the door and stole down the strip of burgundy carpet.

He wanted to jog, but the deep, masculine voice drifting from the first floor made Kuon halt a few steps away from the staircase. He strained his ears.

“Didn’t you tell me to stay out of your business and focus on my life?

” Greg’s tone, toxic and aggressive, suggested a severe argument rather than a calm conversation.

Alert, Kuon shrank back to the wall. Greg was one of the calmest people he knew, but despite trying to keep his voice low, he sounded angry. “I’m doing what you asked me.”

What the hell could have vexed him so much?

His initial intention to eavesdrop turned into the unpleasant realization that even if his position in this house changed, he still had a long way to go before he would consider this place even remotely safe.

Annoyed at himself, he glanced back at the master bedroom, then placed his hand on the marble banister and looked down at Greg.

Kuon had to get back before Yugo woke up, so waiting for Greg to finish the call and disappear was risky.

He descended the stairs and nodded as Greg greeted him with a raised hand, interrupting his argument with a “Hold.”

Kuon automatically glanced at the round mosaic clock on the wall. Twenty to five, what an odd time for an argument.

“Want company?” Greg asked.

Kuon shifted his focus back to Greg, who was dressed in a black sweatsuit and running shoes, with an armband smartphone case strapped to his upper arm.

Dark circles shadowed his eyes, matching the stubble on his chin, and his skin had a grayish, unhealthy tint for late summer.

It was hard to tell if the man had just woken up or hadn’t slept at all.

The last thing he wanted was extra eyes on him, especially now that the clock was ticking. Yugo was a short sleeper. Even after staying up half the night, he should be awake soon. He shook his head and tapped the side of his headphones. “I’m good.”

To his surprise, Greg didn’t insist. “Stay on the trails and don’t go outside the gates. The forest here is tricky. It’s easy to get lost.”

Kuon nodded and hurried out of the mansion.

Grass brushed against Kuon’s shins, soaking his tennis shoes with dew.

Fragments of leaves and dirt tangled in his shoelaces and caught in the light hair on his legs.

His skin tingled with the morning freshness.

It’d been a while since he last hiked. He made a circuit around the mansion, gradually distancing himself until he finally stopped by the fast-flowing river that, according to Yugo, had already killed him once.

He walked to the water-eroded, rocky bank and spent fifteen minute s rummaging in the mud, first with his toe, then with his hands.

When a layer of white, smooth substance peeked through the dirt, he scooped up a handful of clay and straightened.

He had to walk a little longer to make his workout look believable, and until the lump of clay lost excess water and became a nice ball that didn’t stick to his hands.

By the time he turned back to the mansion, the orange disk of the sun peeked above the forest, too bright even through his shades.

His T-shirt was drenched with sweat, and gray smudges from the clay covered the front.

It looked too filthy and would definitely raise questions, so he pulled it off and wiped his hands clean with it.

Hiding the lump in his sweatpants pocket, he strolled toward the mansion.

The clock showed half past five when Kuon stepped through the main entrance and kicked off his dirty shoes. Unsure where to leave them, he carried his shoes upstairs, intending to wash them in the bathroom sink.

An hour ago, Yugo’s house had been nearly deserted; now, it resembled a waking anthill.

Women in black dresses and white pinafores were polishing floors and dusting furniture.

The clanking of dishes drifted from the kitchen, accompanied by a delicious smell of pastries that made Kuon’s stomach growl.

Three men he didn’t recognize, all dressed in black suits, gave him strange looks as they descended the stairs.

One sneered before turning away; another scrutinized him intently as they passed.

Even after Kuon had gone upstairs, he could still feel the burning stare on his back.

It bothered him because the look was too similar to Yugo’s—oozing with undisguised hunger and curiosity.

Not sure how to react to such intrusive attention, he hurried into the bedroom, thinking he hated Yugo’s house and everyone in it. Now he was certain that he’d never be able to call this place home, just like he’d never gotten used to Gray’s house.

The modulating trill of a ringtone jolted Yugo from a dreamless sleep.

He propped himself up on one elbow, yawned, then rubbed his eyes with his fist to fully wake up.

The irritating sound kept drilling into his ears, demanding attention.

He rolled over and reached for his cell phone on the nightstand. “Yes?”

“Boss, did I wake you?” Greg sounded surprised and confused.

“What do you think?” Yugo tossed his hair back from his face and glanced at the screen to check the time. “It’s not even six.”

He sighed, glanced to the other side of the bed to check if the call had roused Kuon, but frowned at the empty space. His palm automatically brushed the sheets, finding them cold. He glanced at the bathroom door, but no light leaked from beneath.

“Sorry, I thought you were up since Kuon…” Greg stumbled, then cleared his throat. “Anyway—”

“Where is he?” Acute annoyance turned Yugo’s question into a growl.

Despite their conversation the other day, Yugo couldn’t stand Kuon wandering his house unsupervised.

He hated not knowing what Kuon did without him or who he talked to.

It was irrational, but somewhere deep inside, he couldn’t relax without knowing his whereabouts, as if the younger man might disappear as soon as he took his eyes off him.

“Outside, I guess. He left about an hour ago.”

Yugo clenched his phone so tightly the plastic crackled in his fist. “Why are you calling me now?”

“Mio has left the Eurozone. He crossed the Turkish border nineteen hours ago.”

This just gets better and better. Yugo snorted. “I’ll be in the office in half an hour.”

He terminated the call, put the phone back on the nightstand, and went to take a shower, hoping the water would wash away his growing irritation.