Bound by the Past, Locked by the Heart novel Chapter 113

Randal was awakened by the pain.

The wounds on his back seemed to have gotten infected, and a fever left him feeling groggy.

But the moment he opened his eyes, his first instinct was still to reach under his pillow.

No phone.

He braced himself against the edge of the bed and sat up. A dull ache radiated from his ribs, much fiercer than when he had been beaten a few days ago.

Fighting through the discomfort, he stood and walked toward the door, stopping dead in his tracks just as he reached it.

The bedroom door was leaning crookedly against the frame. A gaping hole had been smashed where the lock used to be, and wooden splinters were scattered across the floor.

He stared at the door for several seconds before his clouded mind slowly pieced together the memories of the last few days.

He had been locked in this room for days.

He had smashed the door with a chair after hearing Miles and Alfred arguing downstairs.

Leaning against the wall, he made his way to the top of the stairs and immediately saw the two men locked in a standoff in the living room.

Alfred was blocking Miles's path. "Miles, Robert gave the order. No one is allowed to see Randal today. Please don't make this hard for me."

"I'm just going up for one look, and then I'll leave."

"I really can't let you."

"Why the hell are you locking him up? He's thirty, not three!"

The sound of his footsteps coming down the stairs startled the two men in the living room.

Miles immediately rushed over, grabbing his arm, his emotions spiraling slightly out of control.

"Randal, are you an idiot? You just let your dad beat you like this? You don't know how to dodge?"

Confronted by Miles's questioning, it finally dawned on him.

Right, when your father beats you, you're allowed to dodge.

But the terror carved into his bones from childhood had long since formed a conditioned reflex.

If you dared to dodge, the punishment would only be worse.

"Randal?" Alfred's voice pulled Randal back from his thoughts.

He realized he had unconsciously walked to the center of the living room. The agonizing pain washed over him again, making him stumble slightly.

"Have a proper talk with your father. Don't be so stubborn, or you're the one who will suffer." Alfred sighed, stepping forward and reaching out to support him. "Let's get you back to your room. I'll have someone change your dressings."

"Alfred," Randal suddenly spoke up. "How many years have you been with the Yates family?"

Alfred replied, "Thirty-seven years."

"Thirty-seven years," he repeated, a lifeless smile creeping onto his lips. "Then you must remember how many times my dad beat me when I was a kid."

Alfred fell silent.

"Do you know why he beat me?" His smile deepened, carrying a self-deprecating madness. "Because I wasn't as good as my brother at anything."

"Randal, don't say that..."

"But then my brother died." Randal cut him off, his voice turning icy. "I thought he'd finally look at me, but what happened? He wanted to look at me even less. I'm just a living tombstone, reminding him that his real son is gone."