Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“DANCER IN THE DARK” BY CHASE ATLANTIC
LARK
Pain flashes across my body, waking me up with a grunt and a rustle of foil as I move.
“Hey, Dove. How are you doing?” Aeron’s soft voice filters through the fog in my mind and I try to sit up, hissing as my side protests and a sharp flare of white-hot pain rips through me.
“Take it easy, Nightingale. You’ve got a couple of fractured ribs and lots of bruising,” I hear Jude command, and I turn my head in the direction I think it came from. Blinking slowly and breathing shallowly to avoid any more of the burn from my ribs, the cage opposite gradually comes into focus.
“There she is,” Knox comments, his voice hitching slightly, and as he comes into view—he and the others are all sitting close to the bars—and I have to suppress the gasp of horror at the mottled purple and red all over his face.
“You look like shit,” I tell him, the words burning as they leave my ruined throat, though they sound hella sexy and deep. Silver linings I guess. I don’t need to ask what happened. I know Soldiers’ work when I see it.
“Thanks, beautiful. You still look fine as fuck, if a little busted up yourself,” he replies, amusement lacing his tone as he looks at me through one eye, the other swollen shut.
“Yeah, Dean is a fucking sadistic asshole,” I tell him, and a chorus of growls greets my ears at the asshole’s name. It warms something in my solar plexus to hear them, to hear and see their anger on my behalf.
Pushing the memories of the bastard into the box in my mind where all the shit I’ve suffered at the hands and dicks of the Soldiers goes, I decide to deal with what happened later. Soon, the small box will burst at the seams, but for the moment, I can keep it contained.
“Doc said that you should try to drink something, and maybe eat one of those bars,” Tarl orders, and his voice is strange, like the words are coming out but there’s no feeling behind them.
Like he doesn’t care if I eat and drink or not.
I tilt my head slightly so that I can see him, his beautiful, mismatched eyes fierce in his almost blank face.
“You doing okay, Tarl?” I bite my lip, worry leaving my mouth drier than it already is. The foil crinkles again as I play with it in between my fingers.
He takes a deep inhale, shutting his eyes and letting the breath empty out of his plush lips before he reopens them.
“It should be me asking you that, beautiful bird,” he sighs, his tone full of sorrow and his chin trembling slightly.
“I sometimes disconnect when things go to shit, Koshgelam. It’s a coping mechanism I developed after everything with my family,” he tells me, and I can see he’s fighting against going back to that place of numbness.
Hell, I can’t blame him, the box in my head rattling as if in sympathy.
“I push everything into a little box to try to erase all the terrible memories from my mind,” I reply, watching as he moves closer so that he’s opposite where I’m lying.
“And I used to go numb when they…” I can’t finish the last part, knowing that I can’t afford another breakdown now, not with how vulnerable we already are. I won’t make it out of here if I do.
“Can you sit up, Nightingale?” Jude questions me after a moment of silence, and I tear my gaze away from Tarl’s to look at my psycho, Disney-loving Tailor. “You really should try to eat and drink something.”
“Always with the orders,” I tease, my heart skipping when a small smile tugs his lips upward.
I place my right hand on the floor, using it to push myself upward.
Of course, as soon as I do, my ribs scream in protest, and I have to clench my teeth to hold in the cry that wants to leave my lips.
Fuck, that hurts. After much huffing and puffing, I finally lean my back against a bar, pausing as I pant and breathe through the dizziness that threatens to overwhelm me.
This isn’t my first rodeo, one Soldier cracked a rib back when I was newly their Darling, so I know a little of what to expect.
“How are you now, Dove?” Aeron asks, and I can hear the concern lacing his tone even though now I can’t see them with my back facing their cage.
“Pretty shit, but still alive,” I answer as the agony subsides enough for me to speak. Sweat beads on my brow and tremors have overtaken my body, but it feels better to be up and not lying down like I’m waiting for the next shit thing to hit.
“You should still be able to reach the water and protein bars,” he tells me, and I roll my head against the bars to see the bottle and a pile of five bars within arm’s reach inside my cell.
Luckily, it’s closest to my right arm as I can’t really move my left without breath-stealing agony racing through me.
“And you need to move, staying still isn’t good for you. ”
Gingerly, I reach out and snag the water first, then a bar. The packet crinkles like the foil blanket around my legs and I pause before opening it.
“Do you guys have anything to eat?” I ask, knowing that my father isn’t the most generous host at the best of times, let alone with his prisoners.
No one answers for a long moment, which is answer enough, so I grab the other bars, then take a deep breath and shuffle my legs around so that my left shoulder is leaning against the bars of the cage.
My body protests, waves of pain leaving me a little dizzy, but I’m used to ignoring it and I’ll not let it get the better of me now.
“Dove—” Aeron warns, a growl in his voice that I’m choosing to ignore like the brat I am as I look him straight in the eye and throw four of the bars at their cage, gritting my teeth against the flare of agony that races from my ribs. Fucking Dean.
It's a terrible throw, but luckily, they all slide through their bars, the slithering sound loud in the silence. Not one of them bends down as I rip open the pack of my protein bar and take a bite, all the while holding Aeron’s stare.
His eyes are ringed with dark circles, making the deep blue color of his irises almost black.
“I’ll only throw them again if you try to give them back, and it’ll hurt my ribs more, so I suggest you eat them like good little boys.”
Four matching growls make my lips split into a wide grin as I take another bite, the chocolate peanut flavor not too shabby as it hits my tastebuds.
“You’re such a fucking brat, do you know that, Dove?” Aeron snarls, though with little heat as he bends to pick up the bar closest to him and tears the packet open like it mortally offended him.
“Thanks, Nightingale,” Jude whispers softly as he picks his snack up and looks at the packet.
“Ohhhh, banoffee. My favorite.” His face lights up as he opens the packet and he lets out a small sexy moan when he takes his first bite.
I almost fucking choke on the bite of bar as it goes down my throat, and Jude just gives me a smolder, the fucker.
Tarl and Knox follow suit, giving me glares but eating anyway. They know as well as I do that we need to keep our strength up. The sound of us munching is all that we can hear for a while, and once I finish, I take the water and gulp down a good swallow before replacing the cap.
“You best not be thinking about throwing that over. Doc gave us another, so we’ve all had some,” Aeron informs me gruffly, preempting my plan to share. “Plus, you need to take the pain meds he left for you.”
I look to where there is a pile of stuff near where the bars and water were, to see a box of ibuprofen as well as what looks like a packet of wipes, some clothes, and a box of sanitary pads.
“Doc had to stitch you, Nightingale,” Jude says softly, and I take a deep inhale as a twinge in my pussy lets me know exactly where my stitches are. “He left you some things to keep the area clean.”
“Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Baby Devil.
It’s not the first time I’ve had to do this.
” I just can’t take their pity, not on top of the fresh wave of memories and the agony that Dean’s violence has left behind.
I don’t say it, but it might not be the only time that they watch someone force themselves on me, not if what Rufus says is any sign.
“I… We don’t pity you, Little Bird,” Knox assures me, but I can’t look at any of them as tears hover on my lashes, threatening to fall. I’m so fucking sick of crying. “You are the bravest fucking person I’ve ever met, and your strength is one of the things I love about you.”
Wetness spills down my cheeks then, a sob sounding in my chest as the box in my mind cracks open just a little.
“Look at me, Eshgham,” Tarl orders, his tone offering no alternative.
My head turns, and the sight of him wavers as more tears fall.
“We will make sure that his blood flows out of his body in the slowest, most painful way. We will make his entrails become his ex-trails all while he watches and as he begs for death. And we will deny him the grim reaper until he’s felt every ounce of pain he inflicted upon you tenfold. ”
His declaration should scare me, should have me running for the fucking hills.
But I was ruined long before I met the Tailors, and so instead, it fills me with a warm sense of satisfaction as I hold Tarl’s mismatched gaze.
His eyes burn me like the best possible fire, the type that helps you to sleep at night and chases all the monsters away, leaving nothing but the stench of burning evil behind.
I give him a smile that I’m sure looks scary as fuck if his returning one is anything to go by, but pride shines in his eyes, relief at my acceptance of his crazy, and the happiness at finding out your soulmate really is the other half of you.
Or I guess in my case, the other quarter of me. Maybe fifth? I was always shit at math.
“Deal,” I agree, my voice only a little croaky now. “So, what have you guys been doing for fun around here?”