Chapter 38
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Peach
Breathe In, Breathe Out - David Kushner
T he first thing I notice is that my wrists are tied behind my back and attached to something. My eyes open slowly, a headache pounding on the side of my head.
Blackout.
It feels exactly like my blackouts, except I remember what happened before I slipped into the darkness. I remember everything. Wren and the guys were missing. Elijah, he betrayed me. Dustin… Dustin talked.
The kick of adrenaline jolts me awake, the lethargy replaced by fear and the need to survive. I'm sitting on an old stone floor, and I recognize the room. It's an Aphrodite's room in the dungeons. My wrists are in leather binds, and they’re attached to what feels like a pole behind me. I press my back against it and use that balance to stand up. It takes me a minute, the muscles in my legs still asleep.
The door opening startles me, but I school my features, ready for whoever it is.
"Hey, Peach."
Elijah. He sounds so at ease, like we're meeting for one of our coffee dates. But the look on his face, the way he carries himself, it's nothing like the man I know. He's assured, his shoulders square. He's not big, never was, but he looks dangerous.
"Elijah, untie me." It's not a plea. It's not a strict order either. I'm putting myself on equal footing, because he needs to remember that's what we've always been. Equals.
"I'm afraid I can't do that." He stops in front of a dresser on his way to me, opens a drawer, and pulls out what looks like a riding crop. "Unlike Wren, I don't really care when a pretty girl gives me attention. I've got plenty of that already."
I pull my eyes away from the crop, only to blink up at him. Pretty girls giving Elijah attention? That's a first. I don't say it, though. I'm not exactly in a position to trigger his pride.
"We should talk," he says. "Get back down. On your knees. When I'm in the room, you always get on your knees."
My mouth drops open, and I force myself to shake my head to come back to reality. "What are you talking ab?—"
The crop moves like lightning, and I cry out when it slaps violently against my cheek. My face. He went for my fucking face. The cut I had from yesterday opens, and I feel a dribble of blood coming down my cheek.
"I don't repeat myself."
My heart races, body shaking from the inside out as my legs slowly lower me to the floor. He didn't hesitate one second before hitting me. I have no doubt he'll do it again. Just like I have no doubt this isn't the first time he’s done this.
"There you go. You'll learn quickly with me. I have a talent for it."
"What are you talking about?" I croak, looking up at him. My wrists are already hurting, and I'm wondering how long I was unconscious down here.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Not wanting to play his game, I look him up and down before saying. "You drugged me. You… The blackouts. How many times have you drugged me?"
"Well"—he turns around, pacing as he taps his palm with the length of the crop—"the first time was when I killed Ania. So I could pin it on you."
I feel dizzy as my heart stutters. My ears ring, nothing making sense anymore.
"What… What? "
"I drugged you. I chased her through the woods, I brought you to the river where she was, and when she looked at you, I pushed her in. I thought if you have flashbacks, you'll really think you did it."
"Oh my god," I squeak. "Oh my god, you killed her. Why?"
"Because my dad and I needed Wren to initiate with you . Not that useless girl he used to try to forget about you."
Something else pierces through my mind. "You're Hermes. You blackmailed me."
He pauses in front of me. "I'm not Hermes. I don't know who they are."
"I saw that he's a man. Yesterday, when I went into the room under the castle…"
"That was me. That wasn’t Hermes. The second I saw you come in, I ran out with my Hera. Couldn't have you knowing the kind of games I play. I needed to keep your trust a little while longer."
"Elijah, please. I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"
When he sees the confusion still on my face, he carries on. "Well, two reasons. The first is that it's very hard to control my brother. He doesn't have many weaknesses. In fact, I would say he only has one."
He taps my cheek with the crop again, making me wince, despite the lightness in his action. "This pretty girl right here. And if you're going to have a reaper who can't control his urges to kill, you want the thing that controls him too. We needed you as his Hera."
My nostrils flare when he squats in front of me, coming face to face with me. "The second reason is your dad."
"My dad?" I repeat numbly. "Which one?"
"Not your adoptive dads." He waves a hand next to his head. "Your real dad. Him, Monty, and I work closely together. And he's been trying to fuck us over. You're going to be how we teach him a lesson. And I worked really hard on it, so don't fuck this up for me. I'm finally going to prove to everyone that Wren is a useless little shit, and I'm the son everyone should be talking about."
"My dad," I say again. "I don't…" God, my head is throbbing from the drugs, and this is too much to process. "You know my real dad. That's not…possible. I've been looking for him. You know I've been looking for him."
"Yes, Keith Anderson," he explains. "Peach, I have to apologize to you. I’ve been dishonest."
No. Shit.
My deadly stare must translate my thoughts because he laughs to himself.
"I lied when I said I was an accountant for the Circle. I'm not. See, what my dad and I do is find women to trade. Not often. Only the ones who will be the most expensive. And your dad, well, I'm sorry you have to find out this way, but your dad participates in that trade. Monty and I find them, train them, sell them. Keith, he mainly sells what we provide him with. Often, we take them from our pool of Aphrodites. But for the first time"—he puts strands of my hair behind my ear—"I think we're going to take a Hera."
Stomach lurching, I press myself against the pole as his hand caresses my cheek. He smiles at me, pulls away, and stands up again.
"Keith Anderson has been playing dangerous games with us. It's about time he learns his lesson. He’s going to watch his daughter get sold at an auction he organized. Dad and I just need to convince the rest of the board members. Thankfully, you going on a little killing spree has truly helped. And Wren protecting you? Chef's kiss. You two are going to be beautiful, tragic lovers. Thank you for your help."
The fear only truly kicks in when he mentions Wren. Is he going to hurt him? The man is talking about trafficking me, but the idea of Wren hurting, maybe dying? I can't process that. He's my soulmate. He's my protector. He's my everything. He waited his whole life for me. I'm not going to let anything happen to him.
"Elijah," I say, trying to keep a calm voice, but the tremor in it can't be ignored. "You're my friend. You've always been my friend. For as long as Wren has. Please, don't hurt him."
He cocks an eyebrow at me. "Don't worry, Peach. I'm only going to hurt you." Then he smiles, so proud of himself. "Oh, wait. I think that might hurt him a little bit."
As if on cue, the door to the dungeon opens, and Shadows dressed in black suits walk in. Eugene Duval and Monty Hunter are here. They come to stand near Elijah, right next to me. Three other older members are here too. I imagine they're the rest of the board, and my nerves rachet a little higher.
A crowd of Shadows follows, and once they're all in the room, two gigantic bodyguards walk in.
They're holding a hooded man by the arms. Topless, nothing but jeans hanging low on his hips. He doesn't walk rather than being carried by the guards, his feet dragging behind him.
I would recognize Wren among a crowd of men with black hoods covering their heads, and my heart stops beating when I see the blood on his chest. It's clearly dripped from his face. They tied his hands behind his back with zip ties, making him unable to defend himself.
"Wren," I whimper as they pull him farther inside. They bring him to his knees right next to me, and the grunt I hear from underneath the hood tells me he's at least awake.
"I'm here," I whisper, leaning as close to him as I can.
I feel him calm slightly, the energy within him shifting, and out of nowhere, something touches my hand at my back. I don't need to look over my shoulder. It's him. He's trying to hold me as much as he can with his hands tied.
His hand doesn't tremble like mine. I can feel his heartbeat at the tips of his fingers. It's fast. Not scared fast.
Fuming kind of fast.
I can tell the difference when it comes to him. I know the difference in his heartbeat when he's tired or annoyed with me. When his lust takes over. When his eyes cross mine.
And when he snaps.
Wren is far, far past snapping. He's been pushed too far; I can already tell.
"I'm okay," I murmur, hoping it will calm the beast a little more. "I'm not hurt."
His thumb caresses my wrist, and I want to cry. I love him. I don't want this to be the end. It's only now that our years of complicity come to the forefront of my mind. This man has always been there for me. He picked me up on my down days, and he celebrated all my wins. When I was scared, he held me, and when I wanted to push myself further, he was right behind me. Wren always puts me first.
"Gentlemen, you have been called to this emergency meeting to witness the board of the Silent Circle punishing two traitors," Duval says.
"This Hera." He points at me, and that triggers Elijah to grab me by the hair, showing my face to all of them.
I cry out when he twists his grip, and even though he can't see me, Wren grunts at my side. It's animalistic. His hand tightens around mine, and it brings me a peace even Elijah can't sever.
"This Hera," Duval repeats, "has killed our own. And her Shadow…"
Monty Hunter pulls the hood off Wren's head, and a desperate gasp tears from my chest.
"Wren," I whimper. "Oh my god…"
They've beaten him up so badly, both of his eyes are swollen. His nose is clearly broken, and there are constant strings of blood dripping from his nose and mouth. At this point, I don't even know which is feeding the thick liquid running down his chin, his neck, and to his chest.
"Elijah," I say through the sob constricting my throat. "Please…please, do something."
I don't know why I call out to him. Years of friendship have wired my brain into thinking he's got my back. Of course he doesn't. He just told me exactly why. His hatred for his brother, his vengeance on a father I never met. Nothing that makes sense to me. Nothing I can process in a way that would tell my nervous system Elijah is not an ally anymore.
The crop striking my face again would have sent me crashing to the floor if he wasn't holding me.
"Quiet."
"Let him go," I hiss through the pain.
The second strike turns Wren uncontrollable.
"Elijah, I swear to God, you're a dead man." Those are the words I catch through the garble of insults and blood pouring out of his mouth. Despite being beaten, he pulls at the zip ties, and for a split second, it looks like he's going to break through them. I take great pleasure in seeing every single member in this room step away from him.
But ultimately, there's nothing he or I can do, and Duval continues his trial.
"We're gathered here to decide on their fate and punishment for betraying the Silent Circle, a family who welcomed them and nursed them like their own children."
I would laugh through the irony if this wasn't so fucking tragic.
"Kill them!" some man throws out from the crowd. "That's the punishment for traitors. Kill them and kill them now."
This is more savage than a Vikings trial. No sense, no reason, just the need for blood.
Monty takes a step forward, putting a hand in front of him to quiet everyone.
"Death is the usual punishment, but we don't think they deserve such an easy way out. I know Wren. He’s my son. Dying with his loved one would be a gift for him." He pauses, looks at us, and smiles brightly.
Monty Hunter said he had plans for me in the maze. He surely delivered on his promise.
"Keeping him alive while knowing she's out there somewhere suffering, that would be a real punishment. As for her, she deserves nothing more than to be sold as a whore to the highest bidder."
There's a round of approving sounds in the room.
"My son, Elijah, and I will take care of this."
Elijah releases me, distributing what looks like pictures to the Shadows. They pass them around, sneering and looking at me.
"I've got everything I need. She's been on the market for a while."
On the…market?
"And remember, she's drugged in those. We used them to attract attention. But she'll look a lot more alive during the auction."
Those are pictures of me.
A flash. I'm feeling cold.
Those are pictures he took when he drugged me. I thought I was blacking out from drugs or alcohol, but it was Elijah. That's why I always woke up feeling like something bad had happened. And that’s the flash I remembered from time to time.
Wren's grip on my hand tightens, but I break anyway.
These men are looking at what I'm assuming are naked pictures of a drugged me. Something Elijah has been using for months to attract attention to me on the black market.
"Don't worry, baby," Wren murmurs next to me, his words barely audible. "I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill every single man in this room."
"No," I sob. "Enough. You won't do anything for me anymore. I forbid you. You're going to let them send me away, and you're going to save yourself. That's it."
He doesn't listen. He doesn't agree. Of course not, because he lost his mind a long time ago when it comes to me. But I don't care. I don't care what Wren chooses. I’ve decided that I will take their punishment if it saves him.
After that, the trial is chopped into lapses of time I disconnect from. The board agrees on Monty and Elijah's proposal. The Shadows applaud their decision.
He’ll keep working for the Circle, knowing I’ve been sent to be sold.
Wren is kept kneeling on the floor, but Elijah detaches me from the pole and brings me to standing.
I don't know what happens around me, exactly. All I know is that my eyes don't leave Wren's, and his don't leave mine.
"Don't be scared," he says. "This is going to be over soon."
I'm not too sure how he can believe that, but I nod to make him feel good. If this is our last moment together, I want to leave him thinking that everything is going to be okay.
"I love you."
"I will come get you, Trouble," he insists, clearly seeing I don't believe him. "I don't care how long it takes. You're going to hold on for me, do you understand?"
Those words pierce through my heart. I want to answer something, anything, but only a sob bursts from my lips.
"I promise you. Write-it-on-my-arm-in-a-marker promise you. You survive. You hold on, and I will bring you home. Say yes."
I open my mouth as Elijah drags me by the hair, but I can't breathe.
"Say yes!" Wren screams. "Say you'll hold on. Say yes! "
"Yes," I weep.
"Good girl. I love you. I love you…" he repeats. "I love you." Until I'm not in the room anymore.
And I still hear it. It resonates in my head until I realize I'm long gone. And we're far, far away from each other.