Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Stone
A loud pounding on the door has me jumping to my feet, forcing Sienna to scramble behind me. “Go into the bedroom and take a shower. Dress in my T-shirt.”
Hesitation flashes over her just-fucked face, and worry swims in her eyes as they flick back and forth toward me and the door. I use my thumb to trail over her bottom lip as it wobbles precariously. “Baby. You’re safe.”
Her small body relaxes on my words, and she gifts me with a serene smile. A familiar warmth I only feel around her seeps into my chest. “Okay,” she whispers, and glances back at the door before chewing on her lip and disappearing into the bedroom.
As soon as the door clicks shut, I pull on my boxers, then walk over to the door and slide the latch off, opening it wide to welcome in the men waiting on the other side.
Their don, Bren, steps inside first, and if I had to say which one I looked most like, it would be him. Mr. Personality follows behind, then the one I know to be Finn.
Finn sniffs the air like a greyhound. “Stinks of sex.” He grins and waggles his eyebrows.
“Jesus. This is a shithole. I told you I would provide funds. You just couldn’t wait, could you?” Mr. Personality spins on his perfectly polished heels while grimacing at the small room.
He rests his hands on his hips but remains standing while the other two take up the entire sofa. “I’m not sitting on that.” He points toward the chair, and I lift a shoulder and plonk myself on it.
It’s clear the jumped-up little prick was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. This is like fucking luxury compared to some hellholes I’ve slept in. This is better than the only bedroom I’ve ever known.
My mind instantly wanders to Sienna, and my gut twists, knowing this isn’t good enough for her.
“What happened to you?” Finn’s Adam’s apple bobs while he stares at my chest. His face pales as his eyes flit over the dozens of scars, from lashes, injections, burns, and bullet wounds. He freezes on my chest, no doubt taking in the iron mark over my nipple, and for the first time in my life, I feel discomfort in my body, besides Sienna seeing the worst of it, of course. “And remind me, why the fuck does he look like Bren on steroids?” His gaze slices to Mr. Personality with accusation, a sneer on his lips. “What the fuck has happened to him?” he demands, his tone rising.
Bren pinches the bridge of his nose, and I stifle a laugh at the scene playing out in front of me. Something familiar about it causes warmth to swell in my heart, but I refuse to acknowledge it. The unknown is easier to absorb.
These men may be my brothers, but I’ve yet to feel it. They’re a means to an end, and that end is to protect me and Sienna.
“I explained this already and, to be perfectly honest, it’s draining repeating myself. Bren, do the honors, will you?” Mr. Personality huffs and throws his hand out toward Finn. A mixture of anxiety and frustration rolls off him in waves, as if he’s unable to deal with Finn and his questions.
“Kid was in the compound.” Bren’s words are blunt and to the point. They’re simple, but the horror on Finn’s face tells me he knows just what compound he’s talking about, and he nods slowly.
“He was given supplements and additional hormones. An array of steroids and chemical enhancers,” Mr. Personality explains, unable to help himself, and my eyes volley between them, taking in their conversation as if I don’t exist.
“Well, what about the scars?” Finn’s voice is a broken whisper, and it makes me shift uncomfortably on the chair at knowing I’m affecting him so much.
“He was in a fucking compound used to torture people, Finn. What the fuck more do you want me to say?” Bren bellows, and even I flinch at his abrupt tone.
Finn paces. The way his chest rises and falls tells me he’s on the brink of a breakdown. “What the hell did they do to him?” Then he flicks open a penknife, closes it, and opens it again.
“Jesus. Here we go,” Bren grumbles.
“He’s having a meltdown,” Mr. Personality states the obvious, and I nod.
“I want a fucking name. I want a name!” Finn spins and pins his glare on Mr. Personality.
“I’m getting a fucking name,” he responds cooly, and I raise my eyebrows at just how controlled this man is.
“They do all kinds of shit in those compounds. They fucking torture you with instruments for their pleasure.” Finn’s face has turned bright red as he continues his tirade. “They do shit we’ve never even considered.” He turns to face me, then scans me up and down.
“They hurt you?” His face pales. Then, as if he’s found the answer to his question when I didn’t so much as open my mouth, he continues. “They tortured you, didn’t they?” His solemn voice sends a chill through me, and I almost want to lie to protect him. What the fuck?
“Of course they did. You know the shit that goes on in there. You can see it with your damn eyes, Finn. Stop with the bullshit so we can progress. I have a hectic day, and you’re slowing me down,” Mr. Personality states with no emotion, and my eyebrows rise at his abrupt words.
Finn’s head drops forward, and he kicks the floor, and when he lifts his face, his focus lands on me.
“We’ll make them pay.” The sincerity in his tone stuns me, and out of nowhere, I open my mouth to admit my truth.
“And rape,” I rasp. Then I feel the burning of my ears as I clear my throat. “They rape you too.” Why the hell shouldn’t I admit that? They use it as a power play to demean and relinquish your rights. To make you feel lower than low. Something for them to use for fun while making you feel worthless. Why the fuck shouldn’t I own that, make it my own, and force people to see it for what it was?
The men stare back at me, their faces as white as a ghost.
“Vector. I want Vector.” My hands ball into fists as I glare at Oscar with intent, and understanding crosses his face.
“Vector is yours. But we can’t make a move on Benito.” He strokes a finger over his thin lip. “Not yet, at least.” I nod, appeased for now, despite everything he stole from me. A family, a life, memories and all.
Your time will come, Benito, but for now, Vector will pay for the consequences of his actions.
The bedroom door opens, and their attention is drawn to it, to her. My blood boils with a jealous, possessive feeling and a need to protect her from everyone but me.
“Don’t fucking look at her!” I demand.
Their eyes immediately dart away from Sienna, and the tension in my coiled muscles fades at knowing she’s off their radar.
Her emerald eyes have widened, and I chuckle at her startled reaction. “Come here, baby. Let me introduce you to my brothers. My blood brothers.”