Page 125 of Sinful Lord

“It’s not like that,” Tytus sighs, straightening up again. His hand falls on my thigh. There’s a stiffness to his touch that I haven’t experienced before.

It’s like I can feel a hole opening up inside of his chest. My curiosity grows. I want to peek inside.

“Are you trying to find him?” I ask, studying the photograph.

The man looks older than the photos of Tytus, Gabriel and Rozalia. If I had to guess, I’d say his mugshot was taken when he was around Tytus’ current age. And while he’s not nearly as good looking as any of his siblings, he definitely isn’t ugly, nor does he look particularly evil.

So why am I suddenly pushing myself deeper into Tytus’ warm body? For protection?

Or is it out of sympathy?

“I’m trying to find out if he’s still alive,” Tytus confirms.

“How long have you been doing that?” I wonder, not wanting to be so direct as to ask what’s really on my mind.

With all that’s going on, why look for him now?

“It’s complicated,” Tytus mutters. “But it’s important, trust me.”

Even if I’m currently having a hard time trusting him, sympathy keeps my mouth shut. Instead, I look over the three mugshots on the screen.

Each person looks so different, and I have to remind myself that Tytus didn’t grow up with the same kind of family as me. None of his siblings are blood related. Even his father was a stranger until he informally adopted him.

Rozalia has told me as much.

But why didn’t she ever bring up Krol?

“Were there any more of you?” I wonder out loud.

“No. Our group was small. Small enough to call a family. Though, we might have been too troubled to ever really fit into that mold…”

“I don’t think that’s true,” I say. “Look at my family. Trouble might as well be our last name, and I’ve never doubted for a second that we’re—”

“It’s different for you,” Tytus interrupts. “You’re related by blood. We weren’t. There was never anything keeping us together. Nothing but…”

He trails off. But the word he doesn’t say echoes through the office like a bullhorn.

“Love?” I gather the courage to suggest.

“Maybe,” Tytus sighs. “But it’s hard to think of love when I look at that bastard’s face.”

“You two didn’t get along?”

“No one got along with Krol. He was a selfish, brutal deviant who only ever cared about impressing our father.”

“So why didn’t you ditch him?” I mindlessly blurt out.

“Because he was…”

“Family?” I finish for him.

This time, I don’t get it right.

“No,” Tytus shakes his head. “… Because he was all we had.”

All of a sudden, I can see a young Tytus. He’s surrounded by darkness, completely alone. He looks miserable. And then, a tiny Gabriel appears by his side. Rozalia follows closely behind.

Slowly, little Tytus doesn’t look so lonely or upset. And when a third person arrives, the darkness only brightens a little more. Even if Krol stands apart from the group, he still fills up the emptiness.