Autumn laid her back on the bed and closed her eyes.
"Atty," Zyler called her, but her nose was buried in the book. "Autumn," he yelled louder, and she didn't want to pay attention to him again.
Huffing, Zyler walked inside, grabbed the book, threw it on the couch, and picked her up. "What are you doing?" She tried freeing herself, but Zyler's grip was firm. A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead, landing in the hollow of her cleavage, causing her to gulp nervously as he smirked in response.
She gulped, and he smirked. He walked into his training area and put her down; all the while, she was confused about what was happening around her.
"What am I doing here? Why are we here?" she felt a chill. The place looked dark and brooding, just like him.
"I am training you," Zyler declared, his voice commanding as he seized a spear and hurled it precisely past her head. The spear soared through the air, slicing through the space with a lethal grace before embedding itself squarely in the bull's eyes on the target.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the room, causing her hair to cascade and bounce in all directions as if caught in the turbulent wake of the spear's trajectory.
"I don't want to get trained," she wanted no part in his madness.
But Zyler knew. He knew that if he was away for some reason, she should be able to defend herself. He was not stupid. He knew people around him would try to kill him and her if they had a chance. Even if he killed all his enemies, new ones pop up like mushrooms.
"Listen to me, Atty," he firmly grabbed a target and planted it on the ground. "You need self-defense. You need to learn how to shoot a gun," he grabbed the gun and turned her around to face the target.
Autumn opposed. "I don't want to kill anyone," she refused to indulge in his fantasies.
The thought of touching that gun sent shivers down her spine. The mere thought of the countless souls that might have latched onto its metal surface filled her with a bone-chilling dread. In the dim light, the gun seemed to exude an aura of malice, as if it were cursed by the very hands that had wielded it in violence.
How many bodies had that gun been a witness to? How many lives had it mercilessly snuffed out, leaving behind only a trail of despair and agony? The weight of its dark history pressed down upon her, suffocating her with the realization that she could not touch it.
As Zyler's fingers brushed against the cold, unforgiving metal, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was inviting a darkness into her soul, a darkness that had consumed countless others before her. The gun seemed to whisper tales of death and destruction, its very presence serving as a grim reminder of the horrors it had witnessed and the lives it had devoured.
"You need to protect yourself, Atty. I won't be here always. I can be bashful and tell you I will be able to protect you, but that is a lie, Atty. I am a human at last," he grabbed her by the neck and made her stare at him. She avoided his eyes and looked at the target in the back.
"Look at me," he turned her neck and made her stare into his eyes. "Please, Atty, I beg you," he pleaded. He knew he would have to take down Varney soon. He wouldn't be here to save her if something went wrong.
He saw her thinking for a second. "Please?"
"I don't want to touch your gun," she will not touch the gun that killed so many people. He chuckled. Letting her neck go, he walked away from her and unlocked a box. Taking out a brand-new gun, he ensured safety was on for now.
"Come here," he signaled to her. She timidly walked to him. No matter how intimate she had been with him, she was always shy to look at him.
As soon as she was in his vicinity," he turned her around and caged her in his arms. "Now," he breathed in her ear, and her muscles clenched. The smell of sweat with his spicy cologne was making her restless.
"Relax, baby," Zyler's voice was gentle yet firm as he guided her. "You need to breathe and steady yourself." He gently brushed his lips on her shoulder. "You need to be calm,"
Autumn's nerves fluttered, but Zyler's touch was reassuring as he adjusted her stance with subtle caresses. "Just focus on your breath," he murmured, his fingers tracing a soothing path along her arm.
"But........" she tried turning to him.
"Shh..........." his voice ticked her brain. "Not a word, focus," he soothed her by kissing her earlobes.
"I don't know if I can do this," Autumn admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
"You can," Zyler's response was unwavering, his gaze locked on hers with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. "Trust yourself and me"
With a hesitant nod, Autumn took a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking hands. "Okay," she whispered, her resolve growing with each word.
Zyler's presence was a comforting anchor as she aimed the gun, his touch grounding her in that moment. "That's it," he encouraged softly, his breath warm against her skin. "You've got this."
As Autumn hesitated, Zyler's hand found hers, guiding her finger to the trigger with a gentle touch. "Now, when you're ready," he whispered, his voice a soothing melody amidst the moment's tension.
"Here," he placed his fingers on the trigger along with hers.
"It is going to be loud," he warned her. She closed her eyes, the muscles wrinkling around her eyes. "Open your eyes, baby," he cooed, and she did.
The moment her eyes opened, he fired, the gunshot ringing out sharply. The bullet found its mark, hitting the target square in the head. He watched her closely as she processed what had just happened.
"It is that easy," he kissed her temple. "We have a few more rounds," he encouraged her while she continued to protest.
"Please?" he begged her again.
"Now, you do it," he let her handle the gun and he crossed his arms across his chest, watching her. Licking her lips, Autumn pulled her lower lip between her teeth.
"Go on," he encouraged. Autumn fired a shot, and the bullet hit the chandelier, and the metal thing hit the ground with a thud.
"Atty," April called Autumn.
"Atty, why are you yelling Zyler?" April turned on the light and handed Autumn a glass of water.
"What happened?" Autumn looked around.
"You were shouting. Looks like you had a nightmare," April jutted her chin towards the glass asking Autumn to drink water.
Autumn gulped the water in one go while April wiped the sweat off her forehead. "Sleep," April made Autumn lay back and straightened her blanket. Autumn closed her eyes, but sleep was nowhere to be found. It was sad being away from him, and it was killing her. He was in her thoughts and dreams.
She had to see him. At least hear his voice.
.......................
"Sir," Ruben walked inside a room. Liam turned April's room into a memory garden.
"Madam is in Ireland," Ruben showed the footage to Liam. He nodded, grabbing a glass of whiskey, and drinking it.
"Are we going to get her?" Ruben wasn't sure why Liam didn't show up at April's doorstep the next minute they found out where she was.
"No," was all he said.
"But," Ruben tried to understand Liam, but with one look, he silenced his assistant.
"Liam," a woman called, and Ruben placed the tablet on the table and walked out.
"How long are you going to be like this Liam? She is not here, let her go," his mother tried straightening Liam's unruly hair.
"I........I want her mom, but I can't have her. She hates me. It is killing me. Every second that I am away from her feels like a millennium mom," tears welled in his eyes.
"I know, Liam," she tried to ease her son's heart, but she knew nothing she did would help her son now.
"I want to repent, Mom. I want to beg her for her forgiveness. I want her to live her life. But it kills me to see that I won't be a part of the life she is living," he broke down, kneeling.
The mother inside her ached with pity for her son. With a heavy heart, she sank to the floor, and he crumpled into her lap, his sobs wracking his body, tearing at his soul.
Each sob was a lament, a testament to the anguish that consumed him, his heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces. And in that moment, as he wept inconsolably, the weight of his pain echoed through the room, suffocating everything in its path.
She stroked his hair gently, offering what little solace she could as he grieved for all that was lost. His tears flowed like rivers, a torrent of sorrow that threatened to drown him in its depths.
And as she held him close, feeling his heartbreak reverberating through her own being, she couldn't help but mourn alongside him. For in that moment, she witnessed the agony of a soul torn apart by love and loss.
And so, the beast wept for his beauty, his heart laid bare in the arms, longing for the one he loved the most.