Page 88 of Deadmen's Queen

He looked over at me, dark circles under his eyes from worry and lack of sleep, and I winced.

“Now?”

“It’s got to be now.”

He nodded, then turned and walked away. I followed him through the hospital till we reached the outside. The sun was rising, and I blinked at the brightness. Bast walked a little way along, then sat down on a low brick wall that ran along the back of the hospital, looking out over the car park. There were only a few cars, and I could see his Range Rover from here. I sat down next to him, resting on my elbows and looking at the ground, struggling to look him in the eyes.

“Talk,” said Bast.

“Last time, with Tristan…” I gave a sigh of frustration, not knowing where to start. “The night we were taken, and they separated us. They beat us badly.”

“I remember,” said Bast. “They wanted to know the location of the arms stash we’d helped move.”

“Tristan gave up the location.”

“I know, he told me afterwards. He was a mess. Hated how he’d given in.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think he was weak.”

“Neither do I. When I told him I wanted him as a DeathKnight this year, he tried to refuse. Said he wasn’t worthy of it, that he didn’t want to be the weak link. Obviously, I ignored him. I didn’t know he’d told you about it though.”

“He didn’t tell me.” I took a deep breath. “When we were separated and… questioned, I passed out. I wasn’t out long, but when I came to, Carver was there.”

Bast turned to look at me, but said nothing, and my insides clenched with nerves as I continued.

“He wore a mask, but I knew it was him. He told the men that they’d been too soft on me, and they needed to push me harder. So, they tried again.”

“What the fuck?”

“I didn’t break, so my father took over.”

“Shit, Nate.”

I swallowed and looked up at him. “Bast, my father has… since I was a little kid, for a really long time he… he’d come to my room at night and…” Shit, I’d already told Paige, why was this so fucking hard?

A softer look crept into those ice blue eyes, and Bast put his hand on my shoulder. “We know.”

I blinked. “You know? No, you don’t know what…”

“We had a pretty good idea. I even tried telling my dad about it. He tried to get your father excommunicated for a fake reason, but Carver has too many allies in the Syndicate, and he couldn’t swing it. I’m sorry, brother.”

“Fuck.” I looked down at my hands, shame burning in my face. “Tristan knows too?”

“He’s the one who worked it out. That night actually. At the warehouse.”

I jerked my head up. “How?”

Bast sighed. “They showed him the video of what someone was doing to you in the other room. They told him the only way he could make it stop was to give them the information they needed. So, he did.”

“Fuck.” I bit down hard on my lip, swallowing the heaviness in my throat. “Father came back in later. Showed me a clip of Tristan giving up the information, but said he’d just caved under the beatings. He warned me to get rid of him, and said he’d be the weak link that broke us.”

Bast shook his head. “He’s a fucking snake, Nate. He manipulates everyone. But it wasn’t your fault. Or Tristan’s.”

“That’s why he was so fucked up afterwards,” I said. “He thought he was weak, that he’d end up getting us killed.”

Bast nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather Tris had our backs than anyone else in this fucking world.”

I looked up at him, old anger stirring up once again at my father and all his shit. “Agreed.”