Page 132 of Sinful Lord

A powerful huff blows from Tytus nostrils. He purses his lips and looks off into the distance.

“I wouldn’t be looking for him otherwise,” he grumbles.

“Is that why you’re searching for him? To make your family whole again.”

After a bit of soul searching, Tytus shakes his head. “No,” he admits. “My family will never be whole again, and I know it.”

“So why are you so desperate to find Krol? Why now, when all of… this is happening?”

I gesture broadly to the space between us. “I… shit,” he grunts. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

Clearly, he’s holding something back. It’s a stark contrast to how he was last night.

My doubt comes back in full force. But so does that sliver of sympathy. I can still picture young Tytus, all alone, cursed to never smile.

“Last night, you said I could help,” I remind him. “I… I’m still willing to do what I can.”

“I said you’ve already helped me,” he corrects.

“How?”

Tytus hesitates to respond. I can see the gears turning behind his sliver-blue eyes.

I want to reach into the complicated soul churning behind them and find answers. I want to reach the man I started to paint. I want to find what I need to finish his portrait.

It feels like that’s the only way I’m ever going to figure out what’s actually going on, both inside of him and inside of me.

But how the hell does that happen? He’s so guarded.

“You’ve helped me by being yourself,” Tytus finally admits. But it’s a dismissive answer. I need more. If I’m going to stay calm in the face of all he’s put me through, I need to see behind his fortified walls.

“Bullshit,” I spit. “Tell me the truth. How have I helped you? You also said there was something else I could do for you. What is it? Was it just to sit on your face? To take your cock? To—”

“Give into your feelings for me,” Tytus interrupts, his silver-blue eyes shifting. “That’s how you helped me. That’s how you’re going to help me. We were talking about family, angel. About loneliness and separation and regrets. I felt the same emptiness inside of you that I feel inside of my chest. We could fill them both up. But only if we give into our feelings. I wasn’t lying when I said I was falling for you. Are you falling for me?”

His hand falls on top of mine and I nearly melt on the spot. But something inside of me stays strong.

That stubborn conscience of mine bombards me with all the bad memories. The cameras. The tapes. It all comes rushing back once again.

I pull my hand away from his.

“I’ve seen the camera,” I tell him, before clarifying. “The new one. In this room.”

“I had to make sure you were safe,” Tytus starts. “But this time it wasn’t about—”

“No. That can’t be it,” I shake my head, inching away from him. “I… I watched that tape you sent me again. I recognized the bed… the room… we’re here. That tape… it was blackmail, wasn’t it? That’s what you’re doing, right? You’re recording my corruption, so if I ever step out of line, you can threaten to show my…”

Family.

The revelation appears as I speak it, and every words sends me deeper and deeper into a pit of despair, until I choke on the horror of it all.

Holy shit, it all makes sense.

The covers come flying off, I jump out of bed. But I don’t get far. In a flash, Tytus reaches out and snags my wrist.

He doesn’t pull me into his body, though. I think he can tell how scared I am.

“Easy there, angel,” he tries to soothe me. But it’s no use.