Chapter 25 #2
“What has gotten into you lately?” he hisses, dragging me close and getting into my face. His hot breath toasts my skin, and it takes everything in me to settle the familiar sense of nausea swirling in my gut.
“Let go!” I try to wrench myself free of his hold, but his grip is bruising.
“Is there a problem here?” comes a third voice, cutting through our argument like a poison-tipped arrow. Knox goes still and swivels his head to Rook, who leans across the hall with his arms folded and one ankle over the other.
“Nothing that has anything to do with you, scat.” Knox sneers.
“Stop calling him that!” I snap, furious that Knox would use such a foul word to describe any human being, regardless of who he is. “What is wrong with you?”
“You’re defending him?” he snaps right back. “Solitudes killed Raine, or have you forgotten? How do you think your brother would feel knowing you were siding with one of these animals?”
“I know who killed Raine,” I say, trembling with fury. “You don’t have to remind me. But Raine was a Storm Guard, and he knew the risks.”
My voice cracks, and warmth slips down my cheeks. I don’t know exactly what I’m crying for. So many things threaten to spin out of my control—General Sol, my father, the Extinguishers—and I’m on the verge of breaking in half.
“You should probably let go of her.” Again, it’s Rook, his focus zeroed in on where Knox still has me in a firm grip. I wince as his hand tightens further, and Rook’s eyes darken. “Now.”
“This is none of your fucking business,” Knox replies, his body shaking with fury, his face turning mottled.
Rook pushes himself off the wall and approaches so he’s standing right before us.
His sharp gaze meets mine before traveling down my arm and back up again, and I get the strangest sense that he’s trying to tell me something.
He circles a broad shoulder, almost like he’s preparing to throw a punch.
He’s a few inches taller than Knox, definitely bigger and more built.
The threat is clear. “I’m not going to ask you again. Let. Go. Of. Her.”
The tone in his voice vibrates with bottomless menace, and Knox’s confidence falters for a second before he recovers. “Who’s gonna stop me?”
I’ve gone still, watching this exchange, wondering why Rook is coming to my defense.
Rook takes another step, leans in, obviously using his height to his advantage. “I will.”
Finally, Knox’s grip loosens ever so slightly. I seize the moment, mirroring the motion Rook just showed me, as I circle my arm, and Knox’s hold breaks.
Rook noticed that I’d frozen.
His silent suggestion just reminded me that I’m not helpless.
I scramble back, trying to put some distance between Knox and me, and swear I catch a flash of pride in Rook’s eyes. A heartbeat later, he has Knox pinned to the wall, his forearm braced against Knox’s throat.
“Apologize,” Rook says.
I rub my skin, now tender and bruised. I’ll have to wear long sleeves tomorrow. It’s the first time Knox has ever physically restrained me, and it sets off a whole new set of alarms. Ones that sound far too much like my father.
“You can’t—” Knox attempts to choke out, but Rook presses harder, cutting off his air.
“Why must we keep doing this?” Rook asks. “How many times do I have to humiliate you before you fucking get it? Apologize.”
Knox scoffs, his feet scrambling as he tries to gain some leverage against the wall, but Rook is iron, and he isn’t going anywhere.
“Sorry,” he mumbles to me. There’s no sincerity in it, but the point has been made.
“If I ever see you touch her like that again, we’ll do this until you learn a fucking lesson.”
Then he releases Knox, who quickly steps away, creating some distance. “You’ll pay for this, sc—” He breaks off, his jaw clenching as if it’s causing him physical pain not to degrade Rook with vile names. Maybe he’s finally scared. Good.
“I doubt it,” Rook says. He waits, his hands stuffed back into his pockets.
Knox glances between us. “You can move along now,” he says, clearly trying to maintain some control over the situation. “We aren’t done here, and this doesn’t concern you.”
Rook shrugs and tips against the wall. “I don’t think so. I like standing here.”
Despite everything, he appears perfectly at ease, his shoulders loose and his expression blank.
I recall our conversation outside the med wing and him standing in the hall. I don’t know if it’s an intentional move to make me laugh, but suddenly, a snort blasts out of me.
Knox looks more confused than ever.
I swear that Rook is also clamping down on a smile, and something about that touches some secret place deep in my chest.
“What’s going on?” Knox demands, his gaze darting between us. “What’s funny?”
His expression turns suspicious. He’s probably jumping to several conclusions that aren’t even remotely true.
I roll my eyes. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing is going on. We are done here, though. I’m tired, and I’m going to lie down. Don’t follow me. Run to your dad. Run to mine. I don’t fucking care. But you don’t own me, and I don’t answer to you. At least not yet.”
And hopefully not ever.
Then I turn on my heel, leaving them both behind.