Page 39 of The Butcher
“I’m asking about you.”
His jaw tightened, and I saw the line he kept in place when something got too close. “That’s not something you need to worry about,” he said.
“I’m not worried,” I replied. “I want to understand.”
“You understand what you need to,” he said, his tone harder now.
I didn’t argue or push. He watched me, waiting for me to maybe change the topic. I wasn’t going to, though.
“I saw who you were before you became The Butcher,” I said. “And I see who you are now. I’m not pretending there isn’t a difference. I just want to know what happened.” There was no judgment in it. No accusation.
His expression didn’t change, but he didn’t shut me down either. He studied me like he was deciding if I was worth answering, if this was something he wanted to share with me.
“You think you understand that from a few pictures?” he asked.
“No. I think something happened to you. And I think it mattered enough to turn you into who you are now.” The room went quiet, and I pressed gently. “What happened to you, Alexei?”
For a second, I thought he would tell me to leave. I saw it in the way his shoulders tensed, and how his expression went tight.
But I didn’t back off. I waited patiently and hoped he would open up to me.
His gaze dropped briefly before coming back to me, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. “My father didn’t raise me,” he said. “He made me.”
I stayed quiet.
“They didn’t ask if I could do it. They made sure I could,” he continued and tightened his hand into a fist. “It started young. Before I understood what any of it meant. I was told what to do, and I did it. If I didn’t do it right, I learned fast what happened when I failed.”
There was no emotion in the way he said it. No hesitation.
“My father didn’t teach control first,” Alexei went on. “He taught pain. What it felt like to take it. What it looked like when you gave it back. And then he made sure I could do both without thinking about it.”
My chest tightened, but I didn’t look away.
“They put a weapon in my hand before I knew what it meant,” he said. “Showed me where to aim to make a kill shot. Told me when to pull the trigger. And they made sure I didn’t hesitate.”
His gaze stayed on mine, steady and unflinching.
“That’s how it works,” he continued. “You don’t question it. You don’t think about it, and you do what needs to be done.”
“You were a kid,” I said quietly, horrified but not wholly surprised.
“I wasn’t treated like one,” he replied. “That’s how you become this,” he said, his fist slamming on the chest over his heart. “You do it long enough, and it’s the only thing you know how to be.”
Alexei exhaled, his gaze locked on me. I felt like he held on to that like it was a lifeline in this moment.
“I didn’t know anything else,” he continued. “Didn’t need to. It made everything simple. You do the job, and you move on.” His jaw tightened slightly. “Then you walked into it,” he said.
I didn’t move as I felt my heart stop.
“And now it’s not simple,” he continued. “Because now there’s something I don’t want touched. Something I don’t want taken, andsomeone more precious to me that I’ll end anyone if they try.”
“Oh, Alexei,” I found myself whispering.
“That doesn’t make me better,” he added. “It makes me worse, because now when I kill, it’s to protect you, and I’ll do it without hesitation if it means keeping you safe.” He pulled me closer so I was sitting on his lap. “You should be afraid of me and what I am, of what I’m capable of.”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said, cupping his scruff-covered cheek.
His attention sharpened at that. “You should be,” he said.
