26
LOUIS
Even the wickedness of man is subject to law. — Immanuel Kant
It was over. Done. Tears stained my cheeks. I wondered if the trails of them would ever disappear or if I’d see them every time I looked into the mirror.
I could only stare at the blood on my shirt and the gun still in my hand. Shaking. I slowly set the gun on the mahogany desk and walked back over to him. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this.
A life for a life.
“Live well,” he’d whispered as he cut into my body making the Alfero crest. “Take care of her. Protect her even if it means you’re not by her side.”
I swore an oath.
I intended to keep it.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” My breath caught as I slowly shut his eyes. “May heaven grant you peace after a lifetime of war.” I stood to my full height and turned just in time to see Tempest stare me down.
Her eyes flickered to her father.
She didn’t scream, but I could tell she wanted to.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “No other way.”
“None,” I whispered. “It was either me or someone else, Tempest. Try to understand that at the very least. Your father did, he?—”
“Don’t tell me what he understood like he’s alive, like he told you secrets he never told me, like it actually fucking matters anymore.” She walked over and shakily jerked out of her white coat and laid it over his body. “Did he die well?”
She was being logical. Good.
“He died with honor,” I said.
“And you? How will you die? For taking the Alfero boss? My father? Any requests?” She didn’t have a weapon but her words hurt like she’d taken a knife to my chest. “Hmmm? What? Now you have no words?”
"Tempest.” My voice cracked. “You can leave if you want.”
There was nothing for her here anymore.
Nothing I could offer except pieces of the ghost that were left and the guilt I would now carry over what I’d had to do.
Do you want to play a game?I should have said no.
I should have asked for more terms.
I should have thought it through. Then again, would the ending have changed? Would it have been any different? Any less tragic? If not me pulling the trigger, would she prefer it be a stranger?
“Tempest,” I held up my hands, they were shaking. God, I couldn’t stop the tremors wracking my body. I still had his blood staining my clothes. I didn’t tell her it was from a hug.
Let her think me the monster I was, better that than she know the truth.
Let him die a hero.
Let me live a tyrant.
It was better this way—for her, for everyone. She could move on—God knew she’d have no choice now that I’d already finished what I started.
Tears streamed down her cheeks. “You said you had no choice.”