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He heaves for breath, panting and then, “Yeah, okay.” I wait, still holding onto him, he sighs, his body deflating, and then I release him.
Effortlessly, he rolls to his feet, offering me a bloody hand, he pulls me to my feet just as Bennett stalks into the room.
He looks between all of us, the bed last, I can’t look, so I keep my eyes on my brother, watch every tiny twitch of his face, witness the mask of pure rage transform his hard features into something murderous.
“Rex, take your hoodie off, put it on Poppy,” his eyes come to us, onto King, “Raiden, the door.” Bennett turns fully towards me, his eyes going to the body at my back. “And that is?”
I turn then, at his question, peer down. Bloodied face, dark hair, bruised, split skin.
Not enough.
“Chris Matthews,” I swallow, clenching my fists, staring at his broken nose, torn brow, tracking down, over his rapidly rising chest, over his abs to find what I already knew, his dick flopped out, legs bare.
“Break his arms,” Bennett instructs and I glance back, watching my brother’s face, expressionless as he stares down at this piece of shit.
“I want to break his neck,” I seethe, the words slithering their way out through my teeth. “I want to break hisfuckingneck.” my hands clench harder, short nails cutting into my palms.
“We will.” Bennett nods his agreement, clenching his jaw. “But for now, his arms. Do it now.”
He flicks those dark brown eyes up onto mine, a dangerous curl to his upper lip, something I mirror on my own and then I’m stomping my foot onto Chris’ chest to hold him down. Snatching up his left arm and yanking it from its socket. He cries out, something gurgled and semi-conscious, but it’s like I don’t hear anything at all. All I can hear is Bennett’s hushed voice, King’s deep boom, Rex’s gentle murmurs and then there’s one tiny whimper at my back.
And it makes my brain pulse, anger threading hot through me like I’m never going to be able to purge it.
Everything merging and mixing, movement at my back, my brothers taking care of our girl that this fucking cunttouched, and I’m snapping his forearm. Reveling in his agonized scream. I lift my foot, kick him in the face, and then stomp back down on his chest. Taking his other arm, his fingers bent backwards in my palm, I twist and twist andtwist, his arm at an obscene angle, one that almost makes me vomit, and then there’s a long, drawn out,crunch, click, snap.
Hands are tight on my upper arms, King’s voice in my ear, “We’re a unit, she needs you.”
My breathing comes out in a rush, my hearing coming back as he echoes my own words, the low, dull thud from the music downstairs filtering back in.
I spin around, eyes flying over my two lovers, Poppy slung up in Rex’s big arms, Bennett already leading them to the door. I hurry up beside them, King at our backs, and as a unit we make our way out of the room, down the stairs, through the crowd.
No one pays us any attention, the way each of us is practiced in slinking through crowds. The hood is pulled up and over Poppy’s head, hiding her from view, her legs limp over Rex’s arm, but she’s not on display. No one can see. I try not to think about what was happening to her while I was downstairs, texting with my brothers, aimlessly circling the first floor, while she was upstairs, being-
“Raiden, pocket your hands,” Bennett utters at my front, loud enough for King to hear at my back.
Drawing my attention, his head down as we weave our way out the front door, he slips his busted knuckles inside his pockets, and we make our way down the huge mouth of brick front steps.
Bennett leads us straight to the truck, speeding up the closer he gets to Flynn in the driver’s seat, who he promptly turfs out, directing him into the back. And it’s the look on Flynn’s faceas we approach, the anger, the rage, the murder that pulls my mind from the pit of darkness. My fingers circled around one of Poppy’s calves, I release her, step into Flynn’s chest as he makes to lunge forward, Bennett already buckling his seat belt in the driver’s seat.
“We’ll give her to you, but you’ve gotta get in the car, bro,” I tell him, shoving him back with all my strength.
My open hands to his shoulders, my body against his, I can’t hold him back, he’s bigger than us all, only Rex would stand a chance but not with Flynn this angry, it’s like he has super strength. I grab his face in my hands, squeeze his cheeks, his nostrils flaring, blue eyes flicked over my shoulder on Rex closing in on us.
“Get in the truck, Flynn,” I shove him again, squeezing his face, jerking his head towards me. “Look at me,” I order sharply, his eyes finally coming to mine, “get in the truck,” I instruct softly, releasing his face.
His eyes glide behind me once more, but with a swallow, Flynn slides back into the truck, across the leather seat. I’m stepping back, Rex moving in front of me, ducking inside the back door of the truck, Poppy in his arms.
“We’ve got you, Kitten,” he hushes, a cracked sound catching in his throat, he passes her like broken glass into the cradle of Flynn’s body, a muted whimper as she passes hands.
“It’s okay,” Flynn whispers. “You’re okay, Angel.”
Rex sits down beside them, King slamming the front passenger door as he climbs in, and Rex is pulling me onto his lap. My hand on the door, tugging it closed, Bennett already driving us down the bricked driveway.
I shift myself, Rex’s hands helping me out of my sweatshirt to drape over her legs. I catch sight of her thighs, deep purple fingerprints covering the insides. I grit my teeth as I lay the fabric over the curl of her in Flynn’s arms.
“You’re safe,” Flynn says, feral, threatening and soft.
There are so many promises in those words, but I cling onto the most violent translation.
