“It’s already on the way,” says Dean. He hadn’t spoken since he knocked out Jax behind the museum. I was getting slightly worried I made him angry somehow.
“Thank you,” I whisper, not looking up at him.
Max brings my attention back to him when he says, “I think it’s time we talk about it.”
“About what?” I furrow my brows.
“About the panic when you saw the lights. The place you went to when you were killing Jax. The reason you are so strong in combat despite your size. All of it.” Max leans back in his chair and holds out his arms as if waiting for an offering.
I groan and lay my head on the table. “This can’t wait until the morning?”
“No.” they say in unison, as well as Teddy, who just rounded the corner into the dining area.
Teddy is only in a pair of boxers; he must have showered in the basement. I let my eyes travel down his torso to the hem of his boxers that sit low and snug on his hips. The outline of the V muscle is protruding and all of a sudden, my mouth is filled with drool that I have to swallow back to keep from making a mess.
Teddy stands still and leans against the wall as I continue to appreciate his body. Jesus, was his body carved from stone?
“Still needy, princess?” Brandon breaks the trance.
“What?” I choke.
“You can have Teddy all to yourself if you just tell us what happened.” He shrugs and leans back in his chair, taking another swig of beer.
I let out an exasperated sigh, “We shouldn’t have done that. We crossed a line in the limo.” I state, trying to hide the blush flooding to my cheeks.
“Who drew that line?” Max asks.
“I- I guess I did.” I admit.
“Well,” Max starts, “It’s clear you want him, and he obviously wants you. You clearly want all of us. It’s painful to see you denying yourself. There are no rules here, Harpy.”
Refusing to respond to what he’s suggesting right now, I decide diving into my history is a much more pleasant topic of conversation, “So my dad used me as a lab rat. An experiment of sorts. He wanted me to be a human weapon.” I begin. I take a deep breath and take another swig of my beer trying to prepare myself for the conversation we are about to have. This has all happened very quickly, but we feel connected in a greater way, like kindred spirits. I know that meeting them is probably going to be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have to trust these men if I want them to trust me. So, this is the first step.
“It started when I was three years old. He kept me in the basement of the family home, the one he originally built the empire from. I don’t remember the time before the basement. As far as I knew, it was the whole world. It started out small. He would slowly inject me with different poisons, like arsenic. It was painful, but slowly I built up a tolerance and now it has no effect on my organs or nervous system.” Teddy finally took a seat. All four of them are listening intently.
I don’t see any judgment reflecting in their eyes, so I continue. “Then around the age of four, we started physical training. I’d do strength training on Monday’s, Wednesday’s and Friday’s. The other days were left for sparring and defense. This was the easy part.” I take a break to take another sip and signal for Brandon to grab me the whiskey instead.
“The sparring started against one man, but eventually he forced me to fight three men at a time. Once I got too good with that, he had me fight blind folded. I think he wanted to see me get hurt. It was odd, he liked to see me progress, but it felt like he wanted to see me fail. Like he wanted to prove himself wrong, for becoming his greatest achievement but worst nightmare at the same time.”
“When sparring seemed to peak, I was around six years old. This is when he had me start fighting more skillfully trained people. He had me fight military men... I killed for the first time on my seventh birthday.” I take a swig from the whiskey bottle to take a breath, but Dean decides to chime in.
“So, he trained you to fight like a beast. He did the same to me, not as young as you but he had me fighting blind folded too.” He tips his beer to me as a sign of respect.
“Same here,” adds Brandon. “But it was more of a punishment for me, because I was never a fighter.”
I give him a consolidating smile and continue with my story. “After my first kill, he started to train me in interrogation and escape situations. He would have me kidnapped and I’d need to figure out how to escape. If I didn’t, I would be interrogated by the men who caught me.”
“They’d use cattle prongs, waterboarding, whipping, and they’d go beyond the techniques I use now. Except they neverdismembered me, they’d cut me.” I turn towards Teddy when I hear him respond to that with a growl.
“But that leads me to the most current issue we are all facing, the Cambions.”
“What do they have to do with your father’s abuse?” Max asks, and this is the first time I’ve heard anyone refer to what happened to me as abuse, and it makes me cock my head in shock.
“Well, he had them kidnap me after he built their organization. He wanted me to escape the skin trade. And when I did, they’d patch those loose ends in their system. I only made it harder for their victims to try and escape.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat, this is the guilt that has been eating me alive for the last few years. I only improved the skin trade. Ihelpedthem.
“When I learned that he was planning to take children from the trade, and make them weapons too… I killed him.” I shrugged, downing another shot of whiskey, chasing it with another sip of beer.
They stare at me in a stunned silence. I don’t know if they are stunned by the story, my father’s plan, or the fact that I shared it with them at all, but it’s Max who breaks the silence first.
