He thought of the ice bath as a test, as a reckoning. Had I made the right choice? Was I certain my loyalties were where they should be? He believed he was doing me a favor.
My teeth chattered, and I hadn’t even entered the pool yet, but I’d done this before. I knew how horrible it was. Thinking about that wasn’t going to save me, though. I took a deepbreath, collected all my mental fortitude, and submerged my naked body into the ice.
The cold was violent, slicing through my skin and ricocheting up my body. Even as trained as I was, that first minute was always hell. My brain screamed at me to get the hell out by overloading me with devastating amounts of pain. And there was no such thing as calming it down, either. My body’s pleas were a protection hard-wired into the nervous system. I had to find the will to ignore the cries as I was being devoured by the ice-cold water.
But I kept myself in the pool. I knew the rules. Silence was obedience.
Each second felt like an eternity. My seizing muscles fucked with my head—was it now? Was this the moment my body would succumb to hypothermia? Even if I didn’t die from this, would I suffer irreversible damage? Is that the piece of me he wants this time?
There was no way to be sure.
“When will you learn, Lucas? He’s not who you think he is. He’s not worth your soul.”
But he was. Tate was beautiful and pure, unlike me. I wanted him to stay that way. I wanted him to have whatever he wanted.
Uncle Jasper could have my soul, but he wasn’t taking the part of me that loved my brother.
I began to shake as my body shivered in a desperate bid to create warmth. Uncle Jasper poured himself a bourbon from the patio cart as I danced with death.
“What’s the other reason we do this?”
“L-L-Loyalty, s-sir.” My teeth were going to break off, or I was going to bite my tongue just to feel the warmth of my blood. If I was still alive, it was still warmer than this fucking pool.
“Yes. Are you still obedient?”
“Yes, s-sir.”
Tate would be home soon. I wanted this over with before he could see. I was embarrassed. Debasing myself like this in exchange for what little mercy Uncle Jasper had.
I stayed in that ice, forcing myself to remain until I couldn’t feel anything but the pounding in my skull, until my hands felt like bricks, each breath harder to pull into lungs that were freezing like pork cutlets.
Uncle Jasper downed the rest of his scotch. “That’s enough.”
But by then, my limbs were useless. I wasn’t getting out without his help. I used the strength I had left to reach out to him.
“Please.” My voice was slurred as if I were the one who had been drinking the bourbon.
His arms came up under me, and he pulled me out of the ice, but the cold never left.
Every moment I stayed in that ice was payment, so I could buy Tate’s freedom from the prison I was living in. I paid it happily. The difference between then and now is that Tate didn’t ask me to do it. He didn’t know the kind of sacrifices I was making on his behalf.
But it hits me. Hedoesn’tknow what he’s asking me now any more than he knew what I was giving up for him then. How could he? He said it himself, he “got the idea from me”. He thinks what I’m doing with Ace is a fucking game.
Because.
Fuck.
Tate’s never fallen for anyone. He doesn’t know the pain of it. The helpless, literal falling sensation in your chest and gut—every minute of every day. He has the goddamn luxury of playing games with hearts because his hasn’t been stolen, taken out of play.
Good.
I hope he never has to live in this kind of hell.
I shake my head, shoving shit into my bag. I need to get out of here before I fucking throttle him. That wouldn’t be fair. I did this. But it doesn’t change the very real fact that if I don’t get out of this gym now, my fist is slamming into his jaw.
“Why are you so fucking pissed?”
Because I’m going to have to be the one to make the real sacrifice, again. Because I have to get back into the goddamn ice.
