𝗧𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗟𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 | an apocalyptic novel ©

Chapter 34

Father Figure

2031

Aidan

My father.

Here. On the grounds of the base.

He trudges up to me, and with every step he takes with his heavy, oh-so-familiar boots, I feel like I'm shrinking by an inch.

"Hello, son." My father slaps his hand on my shoulder, perhaps in an act to greet me, but I need to suppress the urge to collapse under that little physical touch from him, mistaking it for a threat.

The weight from his hand alone feels like a sack of bones dropped on a toothpick.

I know what he did wasn't right, but it's the fact for me that the realization of it took too long.

My throat feels like it suddenly is tied shut but I swallow and stare into the same dark eyes I have too, except they are my abuser's.

"Let go of me," I say sternly.

He doesn't bother. "Don't make a scene, I'm not even supposed to be here."

Then why the fuck is he here? Had a change of heart? I doubt it.

My brows knit together and I have to restrain myself from blurting out a snappy response. At this point, there isn't much to destroy in our bond.

"Then leave."

"I'm your father," he says, but in Korean, my native tongue.

"And I'm not your ragdoll anymore," I hiss back as well. Gathering that much Korean vocabulary when I use English every day is tough.

Him understanding it as a native English speaker is just as hard.

My father's eyes narrow on mine and his grip on my shoulder tightens. Clearly he didn't get the fucking message - or didn't want to.

"You seriously don't see what you have done to me?" I wiggle in his grip again, managing to lift my shirt on the side to reveal the long scar along my abs that he caused, "You call that being a father?"

He doesn't say anything for a good while and I almost don't expect him to reply at all.

Until he does.

"I'm sorry about Ninha."

What? Is he seriously bringing that up now?

My brows furrow while a new feeling makes itself present in my veins. White fury. Anger.

"Don't twist the topics to play into your cards." These words coming from me don't sound like they belong to me.

"It was both our fault."

"That was no one's fault," I bluff. "Now let go! Everyone is already watching."

Abruptly, he drops his hand from my shoulder, and I see my chance to back away. He knows I'm still terrified of him. There is no point in hiding it.

"You're right, Alex. But don't make a scene."

"Aidan," I hiss, for the first time not being afraid to correct him.

"Aidan, whatever," he snorts.

"You're a run-away, a deserter," a familiar voice suddenly cuts in. The Drill Sergeant saunders over to us. I faintly remember seeing him with my father before. Probably on my first day. "Left your son after killing your wife."

He knows?

"...after letting my sister die," I mumble under my breath. Then, I look up to him. "Is that true? A deserter?"