48. Chapter Forty-Eight Nathan

Chapter Forty-Eight: Nathan

I took a slow breath as I walked over to the instrument table with my father. Rusty tools lay on a steel tray, stained with dried blood from previous sessions. It sickened me, but I knew better than to let my disgust show.

I'd tried talking sense into him before and it ended in tragedy—my mother's death.

"Take your pick,” he said. “I remember you favoring the branding iron, right?”

I scanned the table, looking for something that would be effective yet subtle. I needed to create an opportunity to free Knuckles without alerting Ba to my intentions. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins.

Ba's eyes gleamed with madness as a sinister grin stretched across his face. "Doesn't this bring back memories, Nathan?" he asked, gesturing to the dirty instrument table. "Teaching you with these very tools."

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my emotions in check. "You always kept them cleaner than this," I said, my tone cold and measured.

"Ah, yes," Ba replied, his grin widening. "But I thought it would be…well, poetic to torture Knuckles with instruments stained with his whore's blood."

His whore …my mother.

I hated this man so fucking much, I could hardly breathe.

A wave of disgust washed over me, but I couldn't let that distract me from my goal. I had to stay focused on getting Knuckles and myself out of this alive. My fingers tightened around the handle of a scalpel, feeling the weight of our survival resting on the edge of the blade. My hallucination from solitary suddenly reappeared, the screaming face with its impossibly wide mouth and unhinged jaws superimposed over Ba's leering visage.

My grip on the scalpel tightened as I struggled to shake off the vision.

"Something wrong, Nathan?" Ba asked, his mocking tone bringing me back to reality.

"Nothing," I rasped. I needed to keep him believing I was playing along. My gaze shifted to Knuckles, who now looked like a bruised and battered shell of himself. His breaths came in harsh gasps, and both eyes were nearly swollen shut, but one managed to focus on me, searching for any sign of hope.

"Tell me, Nathan," Ba said, gesturing at Knuckles with a twisted grin, "how does it feel to have all this power?"

"Feels just like old times," I lied through my teeth, trying to keep my anger in check. Ba didn't need to know I was planning on turning the tables.

"Good, good," he replied, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. "Now, let's see some real pain."

Knuckles' bruised and battered face contorted as he strained to speak. "Kill me…please," he croaked, his voice barely audible and coated with pain.

"Ha!" Ba barked out a laugh, shaking his head dismissively. "You expect Nathan to listen to you? Pathetic."

I gritted my teeth, struggling to maintain the facade of the obedient son. Just a little longer, and I'd be free from this monster. But for now, I had to play along.

"Come on, Nathan, make him suffer," Ba goaded, his eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction. "You're doing this for me, got it? You owe me." The threat behind his words was unmistakable, setting my nerves on edge.

I straightened my back and walked over to Knuckles, feeling Ba's eyes burning into me. As I reached him, Knuckles looked at me with his one good eye, a mix of pain and hope that I could almost feel in my chest. I gave him a small nod before raising the scalpel.

"Sorry," I muttered under my breath, praying he'd understand. Then, I slashed him across the cheek—just underneath that open eye.

Knuckles grunted in pain but didn't scream. He knew as well as I did that we couldn't give Ba any satisfaction. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself not to react to his pain.

"Good job, Nathan," Ba sneered from behind me. "Keep it up."

"Sure thing, boss," I said, trying to keep the disgust out of my voice. I focused on the task at hand, all the while planning our escape in my head.

Just a little longer, and we'd be free from this nightmare.

The room was suffocating, filled with the stench of blood and sweat. I moved around behind Knuckles, trying my best to convey my intentions without alerting Ba to my plan. As I brushed my hand across the ropes binding his wrists, I hoped he'd understand that I was about to free him.

"Please, Nathan, just kill me," Knuckles whispered through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse and broken.

"Not today," I murmured back, hoping the defiance in my voice would put him at ease.

I began working on the ropes, digging the scalpel into them while simultaneously slashing at Knuckles' flesh. It was brutal, but I had to keep up appearances. Each cut, each groan of pain from Knuckles made my stomach churn, but I steeled myself, focusing on our end goal.

"Look at you, Nathan," Ba said, his voice dripping with sadistic glee. "You're a natural at this."

"Learned from the best, didn't I?" I replied, hating myself for playing into his sick game.

As I continued to work on the ropes, I could feel them beginning to loosen. My heart raced as I prepared for the moment when the final strand would give way. Knuckles seemed to sense it too; his breathing grew more labored, his body tensing in anticipation.

"Almost there," I muttered under my breath, praying that Ba wouldn't catch on.

I kept cutting, slicing through both rope and flesh, all the while watching Ba's every move. He stood there, arms crossed and smirking, completely oblivious to what was about to happen.

"Thought you could turn my boy against me?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Nathan is my creature, my creation, my greatest accomplishment."

I kept my focus on the ropes binding Knuckles, my fingers working deftly with the scalpel. Each slice brought us closer to freedom, but also forced me to inflict more pain on the man who had been more like a father to me than Ba ever was. The weight of every cut bore down on me—the price of our escape. As much as it disgusted me, I couldn't let Ba see through my act.

"Ba," I said, maintaining a steady hand and a steady voice, "you always told me that loyalty was everything."

"Damn right," he replied, smug satisfaction coloring his words.

"See? I learned," I continued, forcing a hint of pride into my tone. It tasted like bile on my tongue.

As the ropes began to fray, I glanced up at Ba, taking in the cruel gleam in his eyes. It would only be a matter of moments now.

"Guess you were right about something after all," I added.

Because the moment had come.

With one final slice, the ropes fell away from Knuckles' wrists. I quickly slipped the gun out of my waistband and pressed it into his battered hand.

"Make it count," I whispered, hoping he understood the gravity of the situation.

Knuckles nodded, his one good eye filled with determination despite the pain. "You know me, Nathan. I don't miss."

Then he raised his hand, everyone in the room moving in slow motion.

And he took his shot.