Omega's Truth - Nora Phoenix Page 0,16

me to fly, you cut my wings. You want to keep me small and contained, chained to you, but I can’t and I won’t. I deserve more.”

His father’s face was red with fury, his eyes blazing, spit forming at his mouth in little bubbles. “I should’ve known you’d turn out just like your mother. All this time and energy I invested in you. Do you know how bright your future could have been? How much you could have accomplished? I would have given you the world.”

Sando shook his head. “No, you only wanted to give me your world, the world you decided on for me. There’s a much bigger world out there, Papa. A much richer life, filled with friendship and love and family…and kids. Babies. I want that. I want all that, not just what you’re offering.”

Footsteps came closer behind him, and he spun around, not even surprised Maz and Lucan were standing there, looking equal parts shocked and proud. He turned his attention back to his father, raising his chin. “I’m choosing them. I’m choosing a real life, happiness.”

His father took a step forward, and both Maz and Lucan stopped next to him in silent support. “If you walk out now, you’re not welcome back!”

The venom in his father’s voice stabbed his heart. “That’s your choice, Papa.”

“And don’t think that I’ll credit you when I release the medicine we’ve been working on!”

A tear trickled down Sando’s cheeks. “That, too, is on you. I’ve done what I could to show you love and respect, but I can’t be the son you want me to be.”

His father threw up his hands. “Go, then. Go! You’re not my son anyway…”

7

Lucan and Sando gasped at the same time, while Maz remained silent. Then again, he’d been trained to hide his reactions as a doctor. Sando trembled, his face ashen, and Lucan took his hand. As soon as he touched him, Sando laced their fingers together, holding on to Lucan tightly.

“What do you mean, Papa?”

“Like I would tell you now. You don’t deserve to know the truth… And don’t bother trying to find your mother because she’s dead. Haven’t heard from her since you were a year old.”

Before Sando could even react, his father froze, then looked around, confused. He lowered himself into his chair, rubbing his temples. “I have a headache, Sando. Make me some coffee, please.”

Oh god. What the hell had just happened? “Sando can’t come outside to play right now. He has homework,” he said, strict but not unfriendly.

“Papa…”

The anguish in Sando’s voice was heartbreaking. How sick was his father? Why hadn’t he told them?

“Habibi, take Sando back to our room, would you? I’ll take care of his father,” Maz said calmly.

Lucan nodded, but Sando let go of Lucan’s hand and turned to Maz, his eyes pleading. “Maz, he’s…he’s not well. I know he said horrible things, but he didn’t mean them. He wasn’t like this before.”

Maz bent in and kissed Sando tenderly on his head. “I know, kitten. We were standing there for a while before you spotted us.”

“I don’t want to leave him alone, but I can’t do this anymore…” Sando broke, a sob tearing from his lips. “I’m so tired, so empty. But he can’t be alone. He’ll burn down the place or starve himself.”

Maz held him by his shoulders. “I understand. I promise you I’ll make sure he’s okay. He won’t be alone. But you made the right decision, so go, kitten. You’ve done your duty, more than anyone could’ve asked from you. You’ve been relieved. Go rest.”

Lucan put his arm around Sando, who sagged against him. “Maz is right, kitten. Let’s go. Do you need anything?”

“My computer…and I may need clothes?”

Sando was subdued as Lucan helped him pack some of his clothes. He merely pointed at stuff, and Lucan threw it into a bag, not bothering with folding. Most of his clothes needed to be washed anyway. When they picked up Sando’s laptop, his father stared at them, befuddled. “What are you doing, Sando? Where are you going?”

His situation was so much worse than they had realized. He clearly had no idea what was going on, all memories of the horrible things he’d fired at Sando forgotten in his confused brain. Was it Alzheimer’s? Some kind of trauma from his captivity?

But what if their suspicions about his father secretly dosing him with hormones to stop his heat were true? He’d done that before he’d been taken prisoner. They couldn’t explain that part away by trauma