The Soldier - S.R. Jones Page 0,16

me. I’m poison and this proves it. My mother, my sister, they all died because of the evil that is my father and my inability to protect those I love. Even with my father dead, I’ll still remain the pathetic man who underneath it all couldn’t protect his loved ones. Everyone fears me, but I fear my own failures.

Sometime during the day, my phone goes. I answer it when I see Andrius’ number.

“I heard,” is all he says.

“How?”

“Come on, brother. News in our little world travels. Fuck, Konstantin, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t know the full story, though. He doesn’t know how bad it really is.

“Yeah,” I say, because right now I’m out of words.

“You have two choices, you know?” Andrius says.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, either you take the higher ground. Realize this life is fucking disgusting, get out, and take Michael with you… Or, you get your vengeance on every single motherfucker involved in this and become the coldest, hardest bastard you can be, so no one and nothing can hurt you again.”

“Which would you do?”

He laughs darkly. “I think you know the answer to that, my friend. I’d get fucking biblical vengeance on those cunts.”

“I have to say that’s the direction I’m leaning in,” I reply.

“You need help, you know where I am.”

“Thank you.”

He hangs up with a curt bye, and I stare at the wall. Nothing. I see nothing. My eyes are looking, but my brain isn’t parsing the visual information coming in. No, my mind is far too busy calculating and thinking and raging.

My father has changed me irrevocably.

Before, I was driven, at times I did illegal things, very illegal, but I was fair, I had a heart … a soul. Now, my soul is black, and all I want is my revenge. I don’t fucking care anymore. I don’t care if I hurt others or risk my life. My only priority is protecting Michael and getting my revenge.

I’m going to become so powerful the world will tremble before me. I’ve been a soldier all my life, but now I will become a king of all I survey, and I will start here, in the UK.

Chapter Five

Cassie

Life Interrupted

London-Six months ago

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same…” Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

They say life isn’t meant to be easy. That those who think life is easy, or even meant to be, are wrong. Life is a struggle. Difficult. For some, life is one long emergency.

Much of my life has been like that. My father left when I was young. My mother couldn’t cope and developed mental health issues that got so bad the state took me away from her. I bounced around for a while, foster homes, back to Mum’s then she’d lose it, so I’d be taken again, until eventually, thank God, the government made my grandparents my official wards. For a period, things got good. My grandparents are amazing, and they looked after me well. I got good results in my exams and enjoyed three years at university.

Then, the universe decided I’d had enough of a break from shit and decided to reinstate emergency measures once more.

My mum died, suicide. My grandfather got sick, and I failed to find work in my chosen field of Information Technology despite a supposed fantastic degree, and thousands of pounds of debt.

So here I am. A barista in a coffee shop, with a sick grandfather, a worried grandmother, and a dead mum. Life sometimes sucks. It sucks balls. Big hairy ones.

Just when it seemed I might be on a good trajectory, life got interrupted. Again.

I stare out the window of the coffee shop, wet cloth in one hand, and watch the rain pour down. The weather matches my mood.

When I get like this it would be far too easy to give into the fear and sadness, so I purposefully try to think about the good things.

I start listing them in my head.

I have a job. It might not be a job doing what I want, working in IT, but it’s a job. I get free tea and cakes, so that’s good, right? The pay sucks, and really, the reason I chose IT as a degree is because it pays well, and I don’t want to struggle like Mum. Not mentally, or emotionally, or financially. She’s like a big neon warning sign hanging over my head, guiding every decision I make in life.

My boyfriend cares for me, and he’s been hinting at us settling