CHAPTER 41

The Interrogation

The room smelled of sweat and blood, a metallic tang that clung to the air like an unshakable omen. The Oath agent was slumped in the chair, wrists bound with zip ties, a bruise blooming across his jaw where Riley had introduced him to the stock of her rifle. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes—sharp, calculating—watched me with something that felt uncomfortably close to recognition.

I leaned against the table, letting the silence stretch between us. The dim light cast long shadows over his face, but I could see the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It wasn't fear. It was something worse.

Amusement.

"You gonna start talking," I said, voice low, steady, "or do we have to do this the hard way?"

The agent—mid-forties, lean build, a scar running from his temple to his cheekbone—exhaled sharply, almost laughing. "There's a hard way?" His voice was rough, like he'd swallowed glass years ago and never quite recovered.

I grabbed the back of his chair and yanked him forward so fast his zip-tied wrists dug into the plastic armrests. His smirk faltered.

"Don't mistake my patience for mercy," I said. "You were Oath. You know exactly what I'm capable of."

His smirk returned, slower this time. Measured. "That's just it, isn't it? Do you know what you're capable of?"

Something cold slid down my spine.

I glanced at Riley. She stood near the door, arms crossed, but her jaw was tight. She was watching me like she wasn't sure what I'd do next.

I turned back to the agent. "Why is Julian so desperate to get his hands on me?"

"Because you were one of his best projects."

The words were casual, but they might as well have been a bullet to the chest.

I forced myself to stay still. "Bullshit."

The agent tilted his head, the bruises on his face pulling against his skin. "You think Julian wants you dead? No. He wants you back."

Riley shifted beside me. I could feel her tension without even looking.

I clenched my jaw. "Why would I ever work for him?"

The agent's smirk deepened. "Because, Nathan, you asked him to."

The room tilted.

I took a step back before I realized I was moving, my mind slamming against those words like a brick wall.

No.

I didn't ask for this. I couldn't have.

The agent sat back, watching me unravel. "The memory-altering program wasn't something Julian did to you. It was something you did for yourself." He let that sink in before delivering the final blow. "You erased your own past."

My pulse pounded in my ears.

Riley exhaled sharply. "Why?"

The agent shrugged. "That's the fun part, isn't it? The why." He looked back at me. "Tell me, Nathan. Don't you ever wonder what was so bad, so unforgivable, that you decided it was better to forget?"

I grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall.

His head snapped back, but he was still smiling.

"Tell me the truth," I growled.

He coughed, blood trailing from his lip. "I just did."

I wanted to hit him. Wanted to break the satisfaction right off his face. But deep down, past the anger, past the instinct to fight—

I was afraid.

Afraid he was right.

Afraid that whatever I had been running from wasn't The Oath.

Afraid I had been running from myself.

I let go of him and stepped back, my chest rising and falling too fast.

The agent chuckled, rubbing his throat. "See? Even now, you don't trust yourself." He looked between me and Riley. "You're starting to see it too, aren't you?"

Riley didn't answer.

And that silence hurt more than anything else.

I turned away, running a hand through my hair. My mind was spinning, fragments of memories that never quite fit together surfacing like static. A voice—my own—whispering in my head, forget, forget, forget.

What had I done?

What had I hidden?

And if I found out—

Would I still be able to live with myself?

The agent shifted in his chair, wincing slightly. "Julian's waiting for you to remember, Nathan. Because once you do…" He smiled. "You'll come back to him willingly."

I inhaled through my nose, shoving down the chaos clawing its way through my skull.

No.

Julian didn't own me.

Not anymore.

But then, a new thought twisted in my gut like a knife.

If I had erased my past—

Who was I before?