For a moment, man and boy stood staring at each other in shock.
And in that time, George noticed small details about the boy.
His hand was still clutching the doorknob, his eyes were fixed upon his father’s body and on the blade that George had used to slit the man’s throat, his body shook with small tremors and his face, open, expressive, finely boned just like Connor was twisted in fear and horror.
George imagined the boy must have wandered upon the scene just as he finished Lee.
He swallowed and remembered when Connor had told him of his mother’s death. The look on his face was much the same.
It seemed he would always be responsible for pain to those who least deserved it.
Briefly, he entertained the notion of killing the boy. It would be a mercy and an ending to the tragedy that took over all of their lives.
And it would be so, so easy.
The boy was still transfixed on his father’s corpse, and intuition told George that the boy was untrained, young and innocent.
Just like Connor had been when his mother perished.
He never got the opportunity to reveal the truth to Connor or even to make amends, but he would make sure that did not happen with Connor’s son, even if the boy was also Lee’s.
He owed him that much and so much more.
He sheathed his blade. The boy started, wide eyes flicking over to him.
“I know you have no reason to believe me, but I am sorry that it came to this. I know I must have hurt you, but it had to be done. Your father was not a good man.”
He paused, looking over the boy.
Long shoulder length hair dark hair, light tan to skin, resentment boiling away in his eyes...This was indeed Connor’s son.
“Your caretakers will be here momentarily. They will likely leave you with your father’s relatives for your safety.”
And there would likely be attempts on the young prince’s life. Such was the way of royalty.
George would make sure none of them succeeded and that his allies, few as they were, would watch over the boy.
They, too, had bonds to the boy’s mother.
“What is your name?” the boy asked, and George wasn’t surprised to see hate begin to mix with the fear in the boy’s eyes.
“George Washington. Why do you want to know?”
The boy glared at him.
“So I can find you and kill you one day.”
He smiled. That was what he thought.
Connor’s son, through and through.
He bowed.
“Then, I wish you luck, little prince. And I look forward to when we’ll meet again.”
It would be...fitting, that he die by this child’s hand.
Chasing Revenge 4
Chasing Revenge
The Future
For a moment, man and boy stood staring at each other in shock.
And in that time, George noticed small details about the boy.
His hand was still clutching the doorknob, his eyes were fixed upon his father’s body and on the blade that George had used to slit the man’s throat, his body shook with small tremors and his face, open, expressive, finely boned just like Connor was twisted in fear and horror.
George imagined the boy must have wandered upon the scene just as he finished Lee.
He swallowed and remembered when Connor had told him of his mother’s death. The look on his face was much the same.
It seemed he would always be responsible for pain to those who least deserved it.
Briefly, he entertained the notion of killing the boy. It would be a mercy and an ending to the tragedy that took over all of their lives.
And it would be so, so easy.
The boy was still transfixed on his father’s corpse, and intuition told George that the boy was untrained, young and innocent.
Just like Connor had been when his mother perished.
He never got the opportunity to reveal the truth to Connor or even to make amends, but he would make sure that did not happen with Connor’s son, even if the boy was also Lee’s.
He owed him that much and so much more.
He sheathed his blade. The boy started, wide eyes flicking over to him.
“I know you have no reason to believe me, but I am sorry that it came to this. I know I must have hurt you, but it had to be done. Your father was not a good man.”
He paused, looking over the boy.
Long shoulder length hair dark hair, light tan to skin, resentment boiling away in his eyes...This was indeed Connor’s son.
“Your caretakers will be here momentarily. They will likely leave you with your father’s relatives for your safety.”
And there would likely be attempts on the young prince’s life. Such was the way of royalty.
George would make sure none of them succeeded and that his allies, few as they were, would watch over the boy.
They, too, had bonds to the boy’s mother.
“What is your name?” the boy asked, and George wasn’t surprised to see hate begin to mix with the fear in the boy’s eyes.
“George Washington. Why do you want to know?”
The boy glared at him.
“So I can find you and kill you one day.”
He smiled. That was what he thought.
Connor’s son, through and through.
He bowed.
“Then, I wish you luck, little prince. And I look forward to when we’ll meet again.”
It would be...fitting, that he die by this child’s hand.
His final amends to his beautiful wolf.
Wait for me, Connor.
Finis.