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“I’ll go,” Knox barks instantly, stepping towards the barred door with clenched fists and his nostrils flared, as if he’s itching for a fight. My stomach quivers and I hold my breath, trying to stop the panic from clawing its way up my throat.
“Knox—” Aeron cautions, going up to his side and placing a hand on Knox’s shoulder as if he’s trying to stop him.
“No, I wanna see what they’ve got, these big scary Soldiers that need four to take just one of us,” Knox replies, a feral grin on his face.
God, he’s so sexy when he struts like a peacock, baring his teeth like a tiger playing with his prey. But fuck, he’s outnumbered and going to bring down a world of pain on himself. I know all too well what my sperm donor does to people he thinks needs to learn a lesson.
“Excellent,” Rufus grins, pulling out something from his pocket as he steps towards the bars. I think it’s a key, but can’t be sure as his body blocks my view. “Step away from him,boy.”
Aeron grinds his teeth, looking like he’s going to refuse, but then the Soldier in front of Jude shuffles, moving his weapon just a fraction. Growling, he takes a step away from Knox, and then another until he’s standing closer to Jude, a gun trained on his head the entire time.
With a grunt, Knox suddenly falls to the floor, his body convulsing and eyes rolling back. Aeron and the others go to step towards him, but then they, too, are on the floor, twitching and writhing around. I cry out, my grip on the bars turning my knuckles white as I watch them, not able to do a fucking thing as they taser them into submission. I know the agony that they’re going through, just one of the ways Rufus used to punish me when he felt I’d been less than the obedient slave he’d decided I was to be. My hands tremble with a mix of terror for them and relief that they weren’t just shot. I talked a big talk yesterday, but Rufus can be a wild card and he may well just shoot one of them for the hell of it.
“Get him out,” Rufus says, his voice hard and commanding and so fucking empty that it sends shivers up my spine. He finally lets up on the taser, Knox’s body only twitching a little now.
Rufus unlocks the barred door and one of the other Soldiers hands his taser to another, then steps in, pulling the barbs out of each of the guys. They jerk with each tug, and I can see droplets of blood on the concrete as the Soldier drops the barbs to the floor with a clink. The sound of the metal hitting the floor feels like a death knell and my pulse skyrockets with each one as my guys remain knocked out.
Another Soldier enters the cell, and both of them drag Knox out, hauling him under the arms while the third Soldier collects up the barbs and wires. They leave the others lying there, unconscious, as they take Knox down the walkway and back out of the door into the main room. It’s only my sperm donor and one other Soldier left; Dean.
“Don’t worry, daughter,” Rufus sneers, his voice cloying and self-satisfied, and I tear my eyes away from my guys to see the Cheshire cat grin splitting his face. “We’ll take real good care of him.” His words make nausea swirl around my stomach, bile burning the back of my throat. I know what Rufus considers hospitality to be, and it’s not tea and cakes. That is, unless they lace the cakes with arsenic.
“You said that you wouldn’t kill any of them,” I venture, my voice sounding far less certain than I wish it did as my hands flex on the cold bars, almost as if to ground myself. His smile is all teeth, like an alligator ready to strike.
“I won’t, I’m not fucking stupid,” he tells me, moving closer until his stale breath washes over me and it takes a huge fucking effort not to gag or wrinkle my nose. “But that doesn’t mean the boys can’t have a little fun with him. Something to convince Adam Taylor that he really doesn’t have a fucking choice if he wants any of his boys to remain breathing.”
Tilting my head to the side, I trace the lines of his face with my eyes, his good looks marred by years of alcohol and drug abuse. I’m trying to find the reason why there is such hatred for the Tailors. Why our lives have been ruined by their rivalry. “Why do you hate him so much?”
I panic as soon as the question leaves my lips, sucking my lips between my teeth as my eyes widen at my own foolishness. Stupid fucking Lark asking stupid fucking questions.What good have they ever done me in the past?But I’m no longer the meek, downtrodden girl that used to live with him, barely speaking for fear of what the repercussions might be.
The skin around his eyes tightens and his fists clench making my breath rasp out of my parched throat.
“You may have fallen for their charms, daughter, but those Tailors are worse than scum! They killed your mother; you would think that would be enough. But you’re such a fucking useless whore, just like she was, making friends with the enemy, and just like her, I will teach you your place; on your fucking back with your legs spread for Soldiers.”
I’m trembling by the time he’s finished, no closer to the answer as to why the hatred between our fathers runs so deep. I can see by the manic look in his eyes that I will come to regret my question, so I don’t dare ask why he hates me so much. I’ve never been brave enough to ask that one. I’d rather not know that I was just unlucky and he would have hated any daughter he had.
“Dean,” Rufus commands in a bark, never taking his piercing stare off of me. My chest begins to rise and fall with my rapid breaths, panic making the edges of my vision waiver. Nothing good ever comes from gaining Dean’s attention.
“Yes, boss,” Dean replies, his voice deep and almost painful sounding, like he has swallowed broken glass. He’s always sounded like that, and the scar that runs along his neck leads to many rumors, including the one that his mother tried to slit his throat when he raped and murdered her as a teenager. Yep, I’ve always avoided Dean.
“Don’t kill or maim her, but anything else goes.”
“N–no. P–please, Rufus. D–dad, don’t leave me with him!” Hyperventilating, my entire body shakes as my sperm donor turns on his heel, ignoring me, and steps up to my door, taking the key and turning it into the lock. I’m backing away as he unlocks my cage, my hands raised as if that will make any fucking difference to the outcome of this. “I–I’m sorry. I’ll be better, I won’t talk back.”
“A woman should know her place, Lark. I thought you knew that.” He doesn’t even look at me as he speaks. The door swings open, and it should creak with a premonition of what’s to come, but instead, it’s silent as it lets the monster into my cell. “But your brief stay with the Tailors has made you forgetful.” He almost sounds regretful, like he really hates to do this, but it’s unavoidable. I’d believe him if the quick glance at his face as he looks back at me, at lips split into an evil grin, didn’t suggest he was enjoying my torment just as much as he used to. Sick fucking bastard. “I’ll give you an hour, Dean. Then I need you for another errand.”
“Yes, boss,” Dean answers as he stalks towards me, and for every step he takes, I take one back. It only increases his crooked smile, a jagged scar that bisects the right side of his face, making his lips tug awkwardly. The sound of my cell door being locked is like the click of a gun before it goes off, the bullet destined to be the one to kill you. My sperm donor’s boots are loud as they hit the concrete floor and match my rapid heartbeat, then the door opens and closes, and I’m alone, locked in a cell with my worst nightmare. “Your father really is pissed at you, girlie,” he leers, sounding like the icy whisper of a plague in the bed of an infant. “He says I can't kill you.” He looks disappointed, like the idea of my death really turned him on. Oh yeah, Dean doesn't need you breathing to get off. “But I can make you long for death before I fuck you til you bleed.”
“You lay a fucking finger on her—” Jude seethes, his voice raspy and slurring. His words are cut off when Dean gives a grating chuckle that sounds like crows fighting over the dead flesh of some poor animal. I can’t stop the shudder that runs through me at the sound, at the way his shit-brown eyes never leave me, trailing up and down my naked body.
My gaze flickers to the cage opposite, noticing the three remaining guys now standing at the bars, clutching them as if they’re the only things keeping them upright. Aeron is stock-still, unblinking in an icy rage which isn't aimed at me but at Dean. Anger pours off of him in palpable waves as he stares at the Soldier’s back. Tarl is clenching his jaw so tightly that I'm worried about his perfect teeth, but it's Jude that really gives me pause. His face is set in lines of beautiful agony, devastation, and hopelessness as he watches the scene before him. There's anger there sure, but he knows as well as I do that there's fuck all they can do to help and that I'm no match for this monster.
“It'll be okay, Jude,” I say softly, his turbulent, ocean eyes snapping to mine, shimmering with unshed tears. “I'll be okay.” My hands hang limply at my sides, my voice cracking at the end. My heart thuds dully in my chest, and I know that it's a fucking lie. We both know it and I watch as he swallows hard, straightening his shoulders and blinking furiously, trying to be strong. For me, I think.
His eyes widen suddenly, his mouth opening to shout but I don’t hear it before pain explodes across my jaw and my head snaps to the side, my whole body slamming into the concrete floor. More pain erupts across my side, the hard, unforgiving surface bruising every part it touches instantly.
Fucking stupid Lark, taking your eyes off the predator who’s locked in with you.
I can hear shouts and curses, but it’s faint through the ringing in my head, and my vision blurs as I blink. A hand tangles in my auburn locks, wrapping tightly and using it to pull me to my feet with a pained cry escaping my lips. My hands fly to grip his, to try and alleviate the tearing out of my hair, but it makes little difference.
