Chapter 58
CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
THE HEATHEN
Warm breath fans over my face and a minty fresh scent fills my nostrils as my eyes pop open.
“Carter.”
I spot Knox and Killian in the corner of the room and quickly notice a table full of instruments.
A scalpel.
Bandages.
Restraints.
Other things I don’t recognize.
Shit. What are they planning?
Carter reaches for the cup on the end table beside him and hands it to me.
I quickly take it as I sit up, relieved that Killian put cream on my ass before bed. Again I look at the table, and my relief turns to uneasiness once again.
“What are you three up to?”
The guys all seem nervous, which only increases my anxiety.
Knox is the first to speak.
“We need you to hear us out, Tesoro. Please listen before reacting.”
I take a big swallow of my coffee, wishing it was something stronger because I think I’m going to need it.
“Someone better start talking. Fast.”
Killian clears his throat nervously.
“Killer, we don’t know what is planned for this fight. We are worried for your safety.”
He waves his hand over the table in front of him and continues.
“This is for a tracker. We need to know where you are at all times.”
“You think they're going to kidnap me?” I ask quickly, and Carter shrugs his shoulders.
“It’s a definite possibility.”
I settle my gaze on Killian and speak a firm, “No. I am not consenting to this.”
My eyes move from him to Knox. I see profound sadness, a look of regret, and his words rattle me to the core.
“We were hoping you’d consent, Tesoro, but we are doing this with or without. This is not to hurt you. We are protecting you. If you’re taken, we will be able to find you. This is not an act of cruelty but one of love.”
I glance at Carter, who watches me like he’s waiting for me to run. He probably is.
“After the fight you’d take it out?”
He shakes his head.
“No. We like the idea of knowing where you are.”
I look at Killian remembering what he once told me about his brother, before returning my gaze to Carter.
“Of course you do. You stalked me for how long before shooting me with a dart?”
Pointing a finger at Killian, my voice gets louder as I shake.
“And you. This is how you make up for what you did? Track me like I’m an animal? Nothing more than a possession?”
He rises from his chair and walks over to the side of the bed. His head hangs down, his glare angry but mixed with pain.
“Have you given any thought to what happens if the fucking Prophet gets his hands on you? Because we have ad fucking nauseam. The thought terrifies us, and it should terrify you.”
I swallow hard, knowing he’s right. If he takes me, I’ll be tortured until my body gives out and I die. I know this. I’ve always known this, but I try not to think about it.
“Can you think about how I feel for one second? How would you react if I said I wanted to put a tracker under your skin?”
They exchange glances and Carter nods to Knox. I really hate these fucking silent conversations they have. Especially now.
“Is that what you want, Little Heathen?”
I was trying to make a point, but it’s clear this is happening no matter how hard I fight. This is the only say I have in this argument.
“Yes. It’s the only way it seems fair.”
Killian fishes his phone from his pocket and makes a call.
“Raven, I need three more trackers. Can you make that happen?”
He is silent for a few moments and says, “Yes, she wants to track us if we’re going to track her.”
I can hear Raven's laughter through the phone.
“Thanks. I appreciate it.”
Kill disconnects the call with a grin on his face.
“Done. He will be here shortly.”
I shake my head, now knowing Raven is responsible for this. Of course he is. Fucking psychopath. I wonder if he put a tracker in Bianca.
“Are you hungry?” Carter asks, and I shake my head.
“No. I’ll eat after you butcher me.”
Killian grumbles to himself.
“So glad she isn’t being dramatic about this.”
If I’m honest with myself, it’s not the worst idea. It makes sense. If someone—anyone took me—I’d want them to be able to find me. So why the pushback?
“Tesoro, please tell me you understand why we are doing this.”
I nod as emotion wells in my eyes, and I blink back the tears threatening to fall.
“I do.”
Taking a shaky breath, I attempt to get my thoughts together so I can make them understand.
“I was controlled for my entire life. The way I looked— acted— who I had inside my body. Even whether or not I could reproduce. Everything was taken from me. And then I met you and I was gifted the ability to consent or not consent.”
I lose the battle, and tears fall down my cheeks as my men watch me with rapt attention, listening to every single word as I continue.
“I say gifted because that’s what it felt like for me—a gift.
It should be something I simply expect. A right, not a fucking gift.
For me, it was different because you are the first and only men to offer me a choice.
That’s why I fought you—not because I don’t understand the danger that lies ahead.
But because I’d rather die than lose my ability to choose again—to anyone, including you. ”