Maybe it was because Lena wasn’t like anyone else we’d ever interrogated in our workshop. Her silence wasn’t defiance or strategy, and it certainly wasn’t self-serving. There was no leverage in it, no greed, and no angle. Every ounce of intel she knew was forced on her, collecting against her will. She didn’t want to know any of it, didn’t want to be part of it, didn’t want anything to do with Marco.
Likely, Lena had entered Marco's radar by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Just like our mother.
Another of his victims.
Marco had taken everything from the omega. Broken her in a way that had nothing to do with answers and everything to do with cruelty.
And I had walked in ready to do the same.
Corrosive guilt washed over me in a flood as I stood outside the bathroom, looking at Lena's reflection. How could I have measured, assessed, and wondered how much I would have to torture her before she broke?
I hadn’t understood what she had been through before then.Not really.
I'm not sure I even knew now.
The depth of what Marco had done to her revealed itself in pieces. The brand on her collarbone. The scars on her back. But even more so in the way she flinched at sound. In her movements as her body curled inward and hands rose to shield her head as if expecting impact. In the way her eyes tracked exits and people.
Marco hadn’t just tortured her. He had dismantled her, methodically and patiently over the course of five years. Until she had been ready to end it all.
I wanted Marco dead.Notquickly.Notcleanly. I wanted him to feel every ounce of what he had carved into her.
Lena was so small, frail, and helpless. Yet, even broken, even starved and even exhausted, she was devastating. Deep shadows lived beneath her eyes, and her posture remained skittish. But none of it could erase what was underneath.
Plump, soft lips that looked like they had never learned how to smile freely. Warm brown eyes that held bright intelligence, always watching and calculating. Rich, bronzed skin stretched over delicate bones. Long black hair cascading down her back in soft, unruly waves.
No amount of abuse could scrub the natural beauty from her.
Every time her scent drifted my way, light and refreshing, peach threaded with a hint of spice, my body reacted before I could stop it. Just a brief pulse of low heat, impossible to ignore. The gentle curve of her back, the elegant slope of her neck, and the feminine way her body rounded, despite malnutrition captivated me. I felt my control slipping, and my emotions growing increasingly volatile.
The little mute was unraveling me.
She had burrowed beneath my skin, wrapping herself around my every thought.
The truth was, despite my many threats to revert back to my original methods for interrogation, I questioned if I would actually be able to hurt her.
In fact,I found myself considering ways to rebuild her orteach her she didn’t have to flinch at every raised voice or sudden movement. I felt compelled to protect and provide for her. And more than anything, I vowed to give her revenge.
But every sign of her abuse made uncontrollable rage rise inside me. Every bruise. Every scar. Every fearful look. Every instinct she had to make herself small.
Despite wanting to make her feel safe, half the time, I only scared her more.
My brother felt it too. I’d seen how he patiently treated her, careful and protective in a way that didn’t come naturally to either of us.
Speaking of Knox, I had left my brother behind to keep an eye on the little mute, while I let off some steam at the workshop. She was much more comfortable with him, anyways. Knox was better at subduing his emotions than I was.
How many times had I made her flinch this week?
How many times had she looked at Knox, afraid of me?
I had done one thing right,at least.The puzzle.
Lena had smiled. Small and reserved,but real.And it had been because ofme.
I spotted the puzzle at a bodega, tossed into a discount pile of magazines and toys, while buying a pack of cigarettes. I didn’t smoke, but the lookout Marco posted on Fourth and Maple Street did. He was always asking to bum one.
That's how I got him into the van.
