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Harlow sighs. “Follow me.”
I carry Peppermint upstairs to the room Harlow leads me to. After laying her on the mattress, I carefully remove her boots and drop them on the floor. Next, I unstrap the empty sheath at her ankle and place it on the nightstand.
“She’s gonna want her knife,” I say absently.
“I’ll get it.”
Malachi rushes out of the room, but it’s no more than a minute before he returns and puts the hunting knife in its sheath.
“Nico, why are you doing this?” he asks me quietly.
I take a few deep breaths as I process the answer. How can I explain to him what I don’t understand myself?
“Nico?” Harlow prompts.
“I’m doing it because I have to.”
CHAPTER5
Peppermint
“Time to go boys!”
I recognize Yanni’s booming voice a split second before he rushes into the room. The sound of gunfire echoes in the air and an entirely new fear weaves its way through my veins. Yanni grabs the boy from between my legs and shoves a bag in his hands.
“Here, help me dose ‘em,” he orders.
The boy takes the bag, and my eyes widen when he pulls out several syringes. “In the neck, right?” he asks Yanni.
“Just like I showed you last time.”
When the boy takes one of the syringes and bends toward me, Yanni uses his arm to stop him. “She’s mine.” He nods toward the others. “You get them on your way to the tunnel. Your father is waiting for you there.” The boy hesitates so Yanni barks, “Go!”
“I’m sorry, Pep.”
The voice booming in my ear no longer belongs to Yanni, but to someone I trust. Which makes this whole situation worse. I attempt to move my hands, to reach out and grab Nate so I can stop him from emptying his needle into my body, but my efforts are useless.
“It’s just a mild sedative,” Nate says. “To help you relax and remain calm.”
I don’t want to relax, and fuck being calm. You’re keeping me in the dark where my nightmares live. I hate nightmares, especially the one you’re sending me back to.
Yanni swings his gaze around the room as if frantically searching for something, and when it lands on the other boy huddled in the corner, he shakes his head.
“Maybe now your father will listen to me when I tell him you’re worthless,” he mutters as he yanks the boy to his feet and slaps his face until he wakes up.
It takes Corner Boy a second or two to focus, but when he does, Yanni presses a syringe into his hand.
“Dose her,” Yanni demands, his voice as sharp as a whip. Corner Boy shakes his head and Yanni backhands him across the face. “You will do as you're told, Boy,” he seethes.
When Corner Boy refuses, Yanni wraps a meaty hand around the back of his neck and forces him down toward me. I squeeze my eyes shut and curl in on myself as much as the chains allow, praying it will stop whatever is about to happen. It doesn’t.
“I’m sorry.”
The fear-laced words are whispered in my ear a second before a rush of cold liquid flows through my veins. I try to open my eyes, to fight the invisible force holding me in darkness, but it’s useless.
“That should do it.”
I roll away from the sound of Nate’s voice but regret it immediately when the pillow aggravates whatever wound is on my cheek. Strong hands urge me to my back, and I find myself being drawn to the touch, like it’s a soothing balm for all my anguish.
