Page 60 of The Freedom You Seek
“It didn’t help his cause at all. I endured everything and promised myself never to cry in front of my parents. That was when he resorted to the cane in an attempt to get me in line. It was on my sixteenth birthday when he introduced me to this kind of punishment, and it remained his favorite method for many winters. I have no idea how often I’ve broken the promise I’d given to myself ever since.” I fought against the rising memories, trying to keep my tone light despite how gloomy the topic was.
“And your mother?” Dion asked, and I could tell that controlling his temper was putting a strain on him, although the soft darkness around me was still gently enveloping me. The little tendril coiling around my wrist was gently pulsing in the rhythm of my heartbeat, giving me a small comfort I enjoyed more than I’d like to admit.
“She knew. She shared my father’s convictions when it came to me and would have never acted against him. Both disowned me when the thing with Jelric happened.” When I killed him. My throat was dry as I did my best to swallow the lump that was stuck there.
A long silence followed my confession. Dion watched me like a hawk, and his darkness blanket enveloped me tighter, its warmth seeping from my skin into my bones as if it wanted to tell me that everything would be alright one day.
“I don’t know when or where, but I’ll make them pay, Nayana.” Dion’s expression had turned feral.
“There’s no need for that. It’s over.” When had Dion started to see himself as my avenging knight? “Also, you can’t just go around and threaten everyone.”
My tone was light, almost teasing, but the movement I sensed from Dion was definitely a shrug. “That’s the thing. I don’t issue empty threats or break promises. That’s not who I am.”
“When you told me that you’re not a good person—”
“I meant every word. Retaliation for a friend who was wronged is almost a redeeming quality compared to everything else I’ve done, when I think about it. If you’d met me under different circumstances, I’m sure you would have seen the villain in me first. I don’t bother hiding my vicious soul. The only difference is that in your story—our story—I’m the villain who has saved your life and whisked you away.”
He was talking about how perspectives affected opinions, and there was some strange logic to his words, but I still couldn’t bring myself to see him as someone despicable or evil by design or choice. “So you want to tell me you wouldn’t think twice before slaughtering innocent people? Women? Children? You’d feel no remorse?”
“If it means reaching my goals, I don’t care how many people will be doomed. I don’t lose sleep over it, and there’s only one exception. If there was a life at stake of someone I’d consider worthy, I’d do anything to keep them safe. So far, I’ve yet to meet someone who’d be such a potential anomaly. So yes, all in all, I firmly believe thatthe end justifies the means.” Dion’s voice had taken on an icy edge, and I wondered—not for the first time—what his whole story was.
What had happened to him that he’d hardened like that? His moral compass was utterly broken and must have been obliterated by something or someone. Despite my best efforts not to be influenced by his views, it slowly dawned on me he spokethetruth instead ofhistruth, as I’d believed all the time.
There was a good chance that he wasn’t someone society would consider morally decent or classify as a law-abiding citizen. I just had to figure out how I felt about it—and how I could deal with the fact that I was friends with a potential criminal and that I was unwilling to terminate said friendship even though he was villainous.
I pushed those thoughts away. Pondering about Dion’s more than questionable morals made me dizzy.
There was a lot I valued about him, even though he acted like an asshole most of the time. He was often harsh, almost brutal, but also fiercely loyal to those he kept close in his life. I didn’t know why, even after all we’d talked about, I still believed he was better than he perceived himself to be, even with his problematic views. Maybe it was up to me to show him the truth.
“In the end, it doesn’t matter what my father did or what my mother didn’t do. I’m not with them anymore, and they’ve lost all power over me. Thanks to you. And you’ve said it yourself. You literally saved my life and took me from there. For me, that’s enough. You may not be ahero, but you’ve done something heroic for me. So, I can’t see you as a villain, no matter how hard I try.”
“Because you have a soft heart. You’ve endured a lot because of that, but sometimes it isn’t enough to just barely survive, Jama. Now that I think about it, maybe it takes a villain to ensure eternal suffering for those who have wronged you, and since you’ll never be that person, I’m taking your revenge and their punishment into my own hands. And I’ll do it with the utmost satisfaction. You have my word on that.”
The intensity with which he’d delivered this promise—no, more like a vow—sent a cold shiver down my spine. I agreed my parents had been wrong in a lot they’d done, but I believed unleashing Dion on them would be way too much. “My heart isn’t soft.”
“You’ve made me your friend, which proves my point.”
“Then, Dion, explain to me, what does our friendship say aboutyourheart?”
“It tells me you’re dangerous, Jama. Soft-hearted but dangerous.”
Before I could ask him what he’d meant bythat, Ireas appeared out of the blue next to us. “I’m bored. Antas is scouting while Fig sent me away because he wanted to talk to Thain alone.”
As usual, I felt Dion tense up at the mention of Thain, and I was sure that it was already a reflex for him to do so.
Trying to ignore Dion, I gave Ireas my attention and a warm smile. The youngest of the men often came across as shy, but lately, I’d witnessed him coming out of his shell at least once or twice.
“And you thought that coming over and bothering us would be the right call?”
“Behave.” When I slapped Dion’s thigh in fake outrage, he growled at me in return, and the little tendril adorning my wrist pulsated with irritation.
Another growl. This man was a savage hidden behind a hauntingly beautiful disguise. But I just rolled my eyes at him and turned to Ireas. “Don’t listen to Dion. You know, he doesn’t want anyone to see that he’s actually nice, and that’s why he’s always grumpy.”
“Jama—” Dion growled another time, and I snorted with laughter, which might not have been the most attractive reaction—but who was to judge?
“I think you’re right, Nayana. Besides, what he likes to forget is that I’ve seen him drunk, and nothing will take away that memory in this lifetime or the next.”
“Oh really? Do tell!” Dion’s newest growl was even louder this time, and I straightened as I ignored his displeasure. Four of these sounds within a few minutes was a new record, and I briefly toyed with the idea of finding out how many more I could provoke.