Page 32 of Doubts of the Egoist (Egoist #3)

An angry metallic wasp zapped past Yugo’s temple and drilled into the ceiling.

A deafening bang rang out, its mocking echo rolling up and down the narrow room.

The two men recoiled from each other. The back of Kuon’s head slammed into a shelf.

He turned toward it and clung to it for support, while Yugo dropped to his knee, clutching his ear and hissing through his teeth.

To ease the crushing pressure in his ears, Kuon opened his mouth. When that didn’t help, he swallowed a few times, trying to silence the persistent ringing bouncing around in his hollow skull.

Still holding his ear with one hand, Yugo stared at the ceiling. A hole marred the white surface, plaster flaking off around it. Unsteady on his feet, Yugo rose and turned to Kuon, shock and disbelief clear in his dilated pupils.

“Are you out of your fucking mind? Shooting at me in my fucking home?” Yugo’s nostrils flared, thick veins bulging on his temples and under his eyes as he shouted the words, but Kuon barely heard them. “Do you have a death wish?”

With every word, Yugo inched closer until his frame towered over Kuon.

When Yugo’s cold, cruel hand closed around his throat and squeezed, Kuon remembered the concrete basement, the months of isolation, the painful, brutal rape, and the flesh-shredding strikes of the whip.

“Step back,” Kuon said, raising his voice to hear himself, as he pressed the gun to Yugo’s thigh. “Or the next bullet will go in your leg.”

Yugo smirked, watching him with frosty disdain and an evaluating tilt of his head. His eyes narrowed on Kuon, as if he saw him for the first time in his life. He released Kuon’s throat and placed his hand heavily on the shelf to steady himself.

“Why did you come here? For recovered memory therapy?” The bitter words crashed against Kuon’s lips; he lip-read rather than heard them.

“I don’t know… Maybe.”

A wry, unpleasant half-smile twisted Yugo’s thin lips. He still held his other hand flat against his ear, eyes fixed on Kuon’s mouth. “Was it even real? Any of it?”

“Why do you ask me?” Kuon croaked. Every word built an invisible wall between them, brick by brick, and Kuon didn’t know how to stop its growth.

He jerked the gun toward the screen where his younger self squirmed on the bed, edged by the relentless attention of Yugo’s fingers and dick.

In the past, they tortured each other with biting kisses, misunderstandings, and silence, and there was nothing real between them except a passion that burned and hurt more than it healed.

But had that changed? “How am I supposed to know when I don’t even recognize who that is?

You did this, so why don’t you tell me? What I’m feeling, is it just a capture-bonding afterglow?

Because what you did to me should be unforgivable, and yet… ”

Yugo furrowed his brow, dark madness swirling in his almond-shaped gray eyes.

“I see…” Yugo sighed, then said calmly and clearly, emphasizing every word, “Drop the gun, and I’ll forget this. You’re tired and confused. You don’t have to remember the past. Isn’t it enough that I do?”

“I’m sorry.” Kuon truly was. He also wished it were enough, but there was nothing worse than not knowing his place in this world.

Kuon felt lost. He needed to know exactly what Yugo did to transform the man embracing Lena Vogel into the shaking wreck clinging to the Black Duke’s shoulders.

What he saw on the screens was a twist of fate, Yugo’s obsession, Kuon’s burning hatred, and the insurmountable barrier of moral principles that both bound and separated them.

Not love. “I have already lost myself once. I won’t repeat that mistake. Don’t get in my way.”

Yugo pulled away, swaying on his feet as if dizzy.

“Don’t get even more lost in that desperate search for yourself.” Yugo’s lip twitched as if to say something else, but no sound came out. Remorse or contempt sharpened his features as he nodded a few times. The look in his eyes made Kuon’s stomach twist, but it was too late to take back his words.

The gunfire still rang in Yugo’s ears. The room swayed before his eyes.

His head throbbed, and an acrid taste of gunpowder lingered on his tongue.

A piercing pain settled in his left ear, accompanied by a high-pitched ringing as he stared into Kuon’s dilated pupils.

The vague realization that Kuon would never be able to let go of the past fought its way through the mental fog caused by the gunshot.

“You are free to go. No one’s holding you.” He heard himself say it, but his voice sounded dull and distant, as if coming from underwater. He turned on his heel, but the soft sound of his name made him hold his breath, heart skipping a beat. He glanced over his shoulder.

“Do you know where Lena Vogel is? Is she alive?”

A bitter, sarcastic laugh escaped Yugo’s mouth as a surge of disappointment flooded his chest. Losing control over his emotions, he cocked his head and let a sarcastic snarl stretch his lips. “Aren’t you a detective, Herr Leiris? Find out for yourself. That’s what you came here for anyway.”

Kuon’s cheek twitched, but he didn’t avert his eyes.

“One more question.” Yugo guessed the words rather than heard them clearly. “Three hundred and sixteen?”

After everything Kuon had done, Yugo didn’t feel obligated to clear things up. Still, he replied, “It’s not the rape I watched. It’s what happened before. I missed you and regretted letting you go. It’s that simple, believe it or not. Now, I wonder if I made a mistake in bringing you back.”

He strode to the door but halted at the desk, eyes focusing on a silicone replica of his fingerprint.

“This is how you got in? You sure have all the dedication in the world. I’m impressed, Detective Leiris.

I hope you find what you’re looking for.

Don’t forget to take your meds. It’d be a shame if you ruined your eyes over something so stupid. ”

Yugo gave Kuon one last skeptical look, then left the room.

“Boss?” Greg’s face was pale as he jogged down the burgundy carpet strip, gun in hand. “Are you okay?”

Yugo’s cheek twitched, but he didn’t slow down.

Greg scowled. “Is Kuon okay? Should I call for a doctor?”

“What could have happened to your precious Kuon?” Yugo snarled, glaring at him.

“Nothing? Then what the hell happened? We heard gunfire.”

Yugo shook his head trying to clear his hearing. “He’s fucking with me, that’s what happened. And I can’t even hit him.”

“Wait… where are you going?”

“Out. If I stay, I’ll kill him. It was so much easier when I could force him.” Anger and disappointment bubbled in his throat as he stormed past. Needing an outlet for his unspent aggression, he ordered, “Locate Tobias. That fucker needs a lesson.”

“Tobias…” Greg breathed a sigh of relief, holstering his gun and pulling out his smartphone. He swiped his thumb over the screen, but a busy signal buzzed from the phone. “His phone was off all day, but he’s flying to Istanbul in three hours.”

Yugo stopped short, staring at the black screen of his phone. “Book me on the next flight, but before that, get me an appointment with an ENT. I can’t fucking hear.”

Greg nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Yugo cast a glance over his shoulder at the open door of his bedroom. “He can’t be left alone.”

Greg winced. He’d obviously expected to have fun in Turkey and to compete with Tobias, but he instantly schooled his features into a hopeful expression. “Let’s lock him up?”

“He has a gun,” Yugo huffed.

“So?”

“Who will you sacrifice to get him?”

“Well…” With a massive hand, Greg rubbed his rough chin, thinking.

“Don’t let anyone else in the room. Drive him to a hotel when he decides to leave.”

Greg’s jaw dropped, and then he frowned. “Why are you letting him go again? Just lock him up; he’ll cool off.”

“What for? He fucking shot at me, and he doesn’t know what he wants,” Yugo said as he carried on downstairs. He pushed open the front door and stepped out into the sweltering heat.

“He did? Why? What did you do?”

“I did nothing.” Yugo turned, holding the door open. “What makes you think I am the cause?”

“Well, it must be you, because… it’s Kuon?” Greg shrugged.

“You know what? Enjoy your stay. I’ll bring you some pismaniye [3] .” A low growl settled in the back of Yugo’s throat.

“No, Boss…” Greg winced. “Let me come?”

Yugo grinned wickedly.

“Have fun! Let him play cop all he wants. Just make sure he eats and takes his meds. And knock before you enter so you don’t get shot. When he wants to leave, drive him.”

A scorching wind blew into his face, trying to sneak inside the mansion. Yugo released the door, cutting off Greg’s grumbling. “But I don’t even like sweets…”

Kuon didn’t know how long he had been standing by the rack, with the gun heavy in his hand as the sounds of his past echoed through the electrically charged air.

Yugo’s words, glances, and touches had messed with his mind, making him feel guilty and at fault.

He wanted to stop Yugo from leaving, drop the gun, and accept his terms. Instead, he stood still, biting his lips bloody.

With his mind stuck in the past, he saw no point in stopping Yugo.

When the pain from the shelf bruising his back became unbearable, he reassembled the chair and rolled it to the desk.

Just as he was about to sit, a slim black box on the floor caught his eye.

He crouched down beside it, and his throat tightened again as he unwrapped a new smartphone.

The screen unlocked without a PIN, revealing a close-up of Yugo’s dick, held high and proud by his beautiful, long fingers.

“What the hell…” Kuon snorted and opened the contacts but found only one name—“Sweetheart.”

“Seriously…” he whispered, covering his throbbing head with his hands. “Why do I feel like an asshole?”