white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3)

by Sara Baysinger

  He lifts his head and looks at me. “I was trying to be dramatic. The only two people I cared about in the whole world turned their backs on me. The only two people I trusted betrayed me. How do you think that made me feel?”

  Oh, so maybe Titus did care for me. A little.

  “If you would have listened, it wouldn’t have happened!” I say. “Forest and I just wanted what was good for the country.”

  “You didn’t give me a chance to negotiate, sister. Everyone was hightailing it across the river. I knew that once you were all gone, there would be no negotiation, only a plan to assassinate me with the Indy Tribe at your backs! I would have spared both your lives, except I don’t know if you remember Forest pulling a gun out to shoot me just before I shot him.”

  I didn’t see that. Everything was happening too quickly to comprehend all the details.

  “You had Defenders surrounding us, Titus. And you’re unpredictable! If you had just come by yourself, without Defenders and bombs blowing up the city, we might have listened to your negotiations. Although I doubt we would have been okay with whatever you wanted to negotiate.”

  His jaw clenches visibly in the light. This is a totally different side of Titus that I’ve ever seen. Well, no. I shouldn’t say that. It wasn’t until Titus was in the spotlight as chief that he developed that fake exterior, that jubilant, unfeeling, power-hungry jackal. Funny, how he’s only real when he’s not in complete control. But it’s been a good three years since the real Titus has made an appearance. It makes me wish we could go back to the way things were between us. It makes me almost think he has a soul.

  “You’re right,” he whispers, bringing me back to the conversation. “I wouldn’t have allowed you or Ember to lead, nor would I have allowed distribution of the cure. God is the one in ultimate control. God is the one who put us in the position of leadership, and he put the Proletariats in their positions to work. We’re just blessed, Rory. And they’re not.”

  Heart flares up my neck. “Well. God just blessed them, too.”

  He snorts. “Just because they’re cured doesn’t mean they’re blessed. Their living conditions aren’t going to improve any, unless you have some unlimited supply of resources and food to help them be more comfortable. The Community Garden is huge, but still doesn’t produce enough food to feed all of the people of Ky. Most of our food came from Nashville, but now that we have no units to trade in for those resources, I doubt Prometheus will be enthusiastic about just giving away his resources. Those people I turned in were sacrifices so their own people could have food. It should have been an honor for them to die.”

  Unbelievable. “Where’s the honor if they don’t have a choice?”

  He shrugs and looks at the city. I can’t stand to be around him. Everything about him makes me sick. Disgusted. Resentful. So I stand and start to leave.

  “Why do you hate me so much?”

  His question stops me in my tracks. I freeze, then slowly turn to face him. “Are you serious?”

  “I visited you every day before becoming leader,” he says. “I never beat you like Father did. I even protected you from him. I told you everything. You were the only person I confided in, even more than Forest. You’re my only friend, Rory.”

  I jerk my head back, unable to believe my ears. “Friends don’t force friends to sleep with them. You took Gideon—my life—away from me. What’s more, you threatened to kill me several times.”

  He furrows his brows and looks at the wall. “Yes, well, it kind of hurt when you turned your back on me, Rory. It hurt when Forest turned his back on me, and that’s why he’s dead.”

  “You seriously need to work on your anger problem. You don’t just kill people every time they piss you off. That might have been how Father handled things, but you’re not Father.”

  “No. I’m not.” His eyes find mine again. “I didn’t want to be like Father. But he’s the only one who raised me. He’s the only one who cared enough to stick around. If Mother hadn’t abandoned us, I might have chosen her path. But she left us, Rory. Don’t you hate her for that? She left, and she never came back to get us. She never even left a sign or a hint that she loved us.”

  I think of the journal entry written to Titus. The paper burns a hole in my pocket, because on the other side of the paper is the entry written to me. I’ve read it over and over since I found it. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of reading it. He wouldn’t value the words like I do.

  He sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair. “I always wanted to live in Nashville. I always wanted to be one of the elites here. But when Prometheus locked me up and put me on that ultimatum, I realized I’ll never be equal to him. I’ll never have the freedom I had in Ky. And everyone in Ky, including the Patricians, hates me now. Now that they realize what I’ve been doing, how I’ve been ruling.” His hands flop to his sides and he looks at me. “I’m not wanted here. I’m not wanted there. I have no life on this world. I’ve done too many things, killed too many people.” He shrugs. “My time is up.”

  My heart twists in the agony in his voice, but I fight my pity. “I know what you’re doing, Titus. I know you’re trying to gain my pity. I know this is a sorry attempt to make me think you deserve another chance at life. Well guess what? You win. I already told you I’m not going to give Prometheus what he wants.” I shrug, accept the defeat. “You’re only wasting your breath.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

  AURORA

  I turn and leave the balcony, walk into my room and close the door. Is he really so blind? He tells me he has no remorse and then goes and tries to make me feel sorry for him? He’s so twisted, so demented. I hate him. My hate for him is a fire that has grown every day since I was captured by the Resurgence, and finding out he killed Mother, that he regrets Ember is still alive, that he tries to give excuses for the fact that he was sending hundreds of people a year to Nashville, I don’t think I could hate him any more than I do now. I almost want to come up with a plan to beat him just so he could be the one to die this weekend. He’s killed so many innocent people. It would be interesting to watch him struggle in the same place he’s put so many others.

  Fight hate with love. Thorne’s words come back to me like a slap to the face. There has to be some good in him, and it’s our job to look for that good and draw it out.

  Angry tears prick my eyes. Thorne couldn’t be more wrong. There’s absolutely no good in Titus. I could look and look and look, but I’d find nothing but darkness and empty promises.

  I stuff my hands into my pockets and feel the paper Mom wrote to me brush against my fingertips. After he verbalized his doubts about Mother’s love minutes ago, I’m wondering if I should let him read it. If it’s fair for him to at least get a chance to see how Mother really felt before completely giving up on him.

  I want to keep the one page with letters written to Titus and me for myself. I don’t want him to ruin it with his theories about how Mother wrote it as a last attempt to save herself somehow. I want to hold onto the magic. I want to cling these words to my chest when I die this weekend.

  But…somewhere deep inside, I know what’s fair. I know what I have to do. Though I really don’t want to do it. I don’t even want to see him again tonight. Why spend my last few hours of life enduring his awful presence? Swallowing hard, I pull the paper out of my pocket, carefully unfold the yellow, crisp page, and read the entry addressed to Titus.

  Titus. My son. If I had a say in things, your name would be Storm.

  You were my firstborn, the one who turned me into a mother and finally gave me hope for the future. In your eyes, I saw a leader nobler than Aden. I saw a hero who would take position as chief and bring about justice and equality. I remember holding you in my arms when you were born. I remember wiping away your tears after the nightmares as you got older. Encouraging you as you explored the world. Laughing at your mischievous antics. And finding joy at your love for music and stories. So few mem
ories can remain from your third year, but I hope you have at least one memory left of me. I hope you remember my love and not my abandonment.

  If you haven’t been brainwashed by your father, you would have figured out that what I did was for the best of Ky. I had to get out. And I had to take one of you with me, one whom I could raise with morals and a desire to bring peace to Ky. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough time with Ember to teach her the truth of her past or what her future holds. I wanted to wait until she was older, but it looks like I’m out of time, seeing as your father has tracked me down.

  Titus. If your father did make you believe I was cruel and careless, please know he was wrong. I loved you deeply. I still have dreams about you. I kept every photo of you from the newspaper saved and tucked away. I look at them late into the night and long for the day we’ll be reunited.

  Doesn’t look like that day will come, unless your father is cruel enough to make you watch my execution.

  But regardless as to whether you loved me or hated me, know that your father is a terrible man. That what he’s doing to Ky is inhumane. That you can change things when you become chief. I always imagined you shaking this government to create a new improved one.

  I am so sorry I left you behind. I’m sorry I never got to watch you grow. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you on your good days or bad days. I’m sorry I left you with a monster. You were the apple of his eye, and I imagine you were treated well, but still. Aden can be heartless. Please don’t listen to any lies he told you. I’ve always loved you. Even if you’re the one who pulls the trigger on me in my execution, because that’s exactly the sort of thing your father would make you do, know that I still love you deeply, from the bottom of my heart.

  I love you still. And I will always love you.

  Tears prick my eyes. These words make me want to change, and they’re not even directed at me. Maybe…maybe Titus is close to changing, too. Maybe these are just the words he needs to hear to transform his heart. And even if not, he does deserve to hear Mother’s last words of him. It’s selfish of me to keep it all to myself.

  I step back out onto the balcony. Titus is standing at the ledge now, his forearms resting on the railing while he stares at the lake below. He turns at the sound of my approach.

  “Come back with one more snarky remark?” He looks at the paper. “What’s that?”

  “It’s from Mother’s journal. She left it in the barn in the orchard.” I hand the paper to him. “She wrote something for you. I thought—I thought you would want to read it. Just in case neither of us makes it out of here.”

  He takes the paper and begins reading. He smirks. “Storm? Seriously?” He shakes his head and keeps reading, and his smirk slowly fades, replaced with something I rarely see in him.

  Sadness.

  He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. His gaze wanders over the page, from line to line, enraptured in the letters. The walls seem to come down, and it’s vulnerability at its finest. He reads all the way to the bottom of the page. Then he lowers the paper. He stares at the lake, as if he’s trying process everything he just read. Finally, he looks at me, and the vulnerability is replaced with something unfeeling and slightly terrifying.

  “You’re trying to make me feel guilty for killing Mother?” he asks, his voice slowly rising. “Is that it? When are you going to learn that I feel absolutely no remorse of her death?” He steps closer, so close, his breath tickles my nose. “If Mother came back to life, like Ember, and stood before me right now, I wouldn’t hesitate to pull. The. Trigger. Again.” He chucks the paper over the balcony. I race to the ledge to grab it, but the wind catches it and carries it mercilessly to the water below.

  I spin around and glare at him, my eyes burning, my heart feeling like it was ripped out of my chest. “I wanted that!”

  He shrugs. “Not my problem.” And he walks into the hotel with that annoying cock of his head that he always has when he knows he’s in complete control.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT

  AURORA

  It’s past midnight by the time I crawl into bed. Depressed, depleted, despaired. I’m fresh out of tears. I used them all up on the fact that Titus tossed Mother’s last words to us into the water, and now I just feel numb.

  And terrified.

  I’m not ready to die. Will Prometheus at least let me see Gideon before he kills me? I highly doubt it.

  I press my palms to my eyes. Why is everything falling apart? Even before coming to Nashville, everything was going down. No one wanted me as chief. When I tried to right what was wrong with Ky, it backfired.

  I don’t usually wallow. I try to buck up, look for the best in every circumstance. It was the only way I could find hope in my pathetic existence. But now, on possibly my last night alive, I allow a new wave of grief to emerge. I allow the cracks in my heart to split, and I allow the floodgates to open. I roll onto my stomach and weep until I pass out.

  * * *

  Dark memories fill my nightmares. I keep having flashbacks to my old room, to the loneliness I felt. The familiar despair chews at my heart until the veins are severed and I feel like I’ve all but bled out. The darkness weighs on me like an invisible presence, heavy and crushing. I’m reminded of my depression. My lack of hope. All those hours I stayed up late, thinking of suicide.

  “You’re looking at life from the wrong viewpoint,” I remember Krin saying one night when I was ready to end my life. “Right now you’re at the bottom of a deep, deep pit, looking up. And you’re seeing no way out. You’re trapped, and you don’t know how much longer you can live like this. There’s no light at the end of the tunnel. There’s no hope. There’s no one up there throwing down rope to help you out.”

  I remember how she held me in her arms, the sweet smell of cinnamon filling the air around us. “But I can tell you, as someone who’s standing at the top of the pit looking down, it will get better. So much better. I’m looking for a way to get you out of here. And once you have the freedom to move wherever you want, to choose your friends, it won’t seem so lonely. When you have the freedom to excommunicate those who hurt you, you won’t feel so trapped anymore.”

  She drew back, searched my eyes, her own gray ones so full of certainty and love and passion. “There are people out there who are waiting for you. You have something that no one else can offer to the world. You might not have figured it out yet—the unique gift you possess. But it’s there, waiting, burning to get out. Find something you love and pursue it. Something that fills you with life. I know it’s hard to do in this small room, but it’s possible. Find that passion, and cling to it. Don’t let it go. Let it stir your soul and give you hope, at least for the time being.” She reaches out and caresses my face, her eyes filled with tears. Tears for me. “It won’t be like this forever. I promise. We’re going to get you out of here.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

  AURORA

  “I’m sorry.”

  The words are spoken so quietly, I wonder if I’m still dreaming. But when I open my eyes, there he is, standing in the moonlight by my bed. Looking at me, devastation and brokenness piercing his eyes. Fear spikes my bloodstream and jolt up, switch on the lamp, pull the covers with me like a shield. But he doesn’t even seem to notice.

  “You didn’t deserve the life I gave you,” he whispers, sinking to the floor, his back against the wall. “You deserved so much more.” He swallows hard and stares at nothing. I can make out the dark circles under his eyes, see his hair spiking in odd directions like he’d been pulling at it for hours.

  “You deserved to run through the gardens as a child,” he’s saying, his voice thick. “You deserved to attend every ball, every party, every picnic. You should have been free to do as you pleased, to take walks and make friends and have pets. I should have let you stand by my side as I led. You had every right to be a part of Congress. You were born to lead, Rory. You sewed Ky back up, you put her together in ways I never could have.
” His throat convulses in a hard swallow, and he chews at his thumbnail. “Your place was always at the helm. You were always destined for great things.” He huffs out a hollow laugh and leans his head back. “I guess I was scared. I always saw the fearless leader in you. Who else could withstand your childhood and still be normal? Who else could have gone through what Father and I put you through, and come out unscathed?”

  I almost tell him I’m scarred worse than he could imagine, but he keeps talking.

  “I loved you,” he says without remorse. “But when I didn’t receive your love in return, I feared you. I wanted to break you, and in my attempt to do so, I only made you stronger.” He blinks slowly, long lashes fanning over his cheek. And when he looks at me again, it’s open vulnerability and unfathomable pain and a million apologies and a thousand pounds of regret—all in the field of his green eyes.

  “I admire you so much, Rory.” The words are spoken through a husky laugh. “You are so much like mother. You have all her characteristics—at least from what I’ve heard from Krin and even Father. He hated her. Holy hell, he hated her. And yet, he could never stop talking about her. Did he ever talk to you about her? Did he ever tell you how fearless she was? How she never shed a single tear every time he took his rage out on her? Did he ever tell you how much you reminded him of her?”

  I grit my teeth until my jaw aches. That’s why he abused me, I don’t say.

  “You’re so courageous, Rory. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for stealing your happiness. I’m sorry for making you feel small when you were so incredibly strong. I’m sorry I slept with you.” His voice cuts off and he bows his head. “And I’m sorry I took Gideon away.”

  I’ve ached to hear those words for so long. Especially after finding out he took Gideon. I’ve wanted him to apologize a thousand—no, a million—times. And now that he has…it doesn’t really take the pain away. Instead I want him to stop talking. I want him to shut up and walk out the door, because hearing his apologies is almost harder than dealing with his carelessness. I gave up on him. I gave up on Young Titus already. I built that wall and burned that bridge, thanks to Ember and Rain and Walker and Krin. And now he wants me to accept him? To see him as the brother who defended me against Father and visited me every day that Father had me locked up? Does he really think I’ll just forgive him?