8. Chapter 3
Large monitor’s line the wall, the starkly lit blue and grey images flooding the room with an eerie light. The screen that holds my attention shows the tiny figure lying on the floor of the last room in the west wing. She’s not moved in hours and my stomach cramps, worry making me doubt the dosage of the injection I gave her.
Did I give her too much? She’s so small. They both are, but the tiny, sweet flower curled into a ball on the floor has me more concerned.
Cora woke up several hours ago, crying a little at first before working herself into a frenzy. Then she screamed for Delilah a few times, her voice cracking as she got more and more upset. When no one came, she went back to crying and now…
Nothing.
She’s not made a sound in a long time.
A slithering sensation snakes through my gut. I don’t like this, even if it’s necessary. I keep reminding myself that we have to do this, but it doesn’t dissolve the black, tarry feeling.
Reaper says we’re not leaving her like this for long. He said we’re not leaving them like we were that first day at the school, but it’s been several hours, and even he’s becoming uncomfortable with watching their fear, though he’d never admit it.
When Delilah woke, we watched her lie still for a beat too long. My mind starting racing with doubts. I gave in to the impulse when Reaper left the room and went to untie her. Although he said nothing when he saw our Princess walking around the room, I could feel his anger as if it were a living thing. But Reaper refuses to untie Cora just yet. Even though she’s remained dangerously still for the last hour. He insists if we leave her a little longer, she’ll crack faster.
But still nothing.
My eyes snap to Delilah’s screen. She’s back to pacing the room. She spent a good thirty minutes screaming, banging on the door with frantic desperation before finally giving up. After she searched the room, clearly looking for a means of escape, she sat on the bed for a while, staring at her hands and rubbing the red marks on her wrists. Now she’s muttering to herself as she slowly paces at the end of the bed.
It doesn’t take long for isolation to create fear. You place someone in a dark room, leave them alone, and pretty soon they’ll do anything to be let out. It’s human nature. We’re social animals. Not meant to be by ourselves or locked in a room with nothing but our thoughts.
But we’re still animals. And a caged animal is easier to control.
We would know. My brothers and I all endured a similar introduction into the school. Although Fallon called it lessons, he trained us far more brutally than what Reaper has planned for our girls.
Fallon left us alone. Cold. Scared of the endless darkness in the room he locked us in, our minds warped by an intense fear that slithered into the deepest parts of the mind, creating nightmares. I know the feeling of being so scared that you think you might die from it. That your heart may give well before your will to live.
By the time Fallon retrieved us days later, we were so thankful to be rescued it didn’t matter our savior was the one who put us there. We would do anything to keep from returning to that black, lonely cold room, starved and freezing, not knowing if or when we would ever escape.
Delilah swipes at her cheek and I remind myself this is necessary. We need them to cooperate and we have little time. Reaper thinks Delilah’s abrasive personality, her hard exterior, and the things she’s learned from Rune will make it harder for her to submit.
He thinks the weakest link will be Cora. That she’ll break easier. Faster. Beg to be released, doing anything we ask. Reaper believes she’ll be the easiest of the two to break and bend to our will, but after watching her for hours, it’s clear. She may very well be the strongest one out of the two.
“I don’t like this,” Breaker says from next to me, snapping my attention over to him. He can’t seem to sit still. He’s been pacing behind us as we watch the screens, a feral, agitated energy pouring from him like waves of smoke, so thick it’s setting my teeth on edge.
“They belong to Rune,” Reaper says from behind me. He places his hands on the back of my chair as he watches Cora on the screen.
The statement carries a layer of contempt. His level of hatred toward Delilah concerns me, and I want to remind him she’s not Rune but keep the words tucked behind my teeth.
Rune brought this upon himself.
And her.
But when we decided that we’d take Delilah, I don’t think any of us were prepared to feel this… uncomfortable.
“No,” Viper says slowly, gaze darting between me and Breaker. “Delilah is his blood. Cora is…” He cuts off, gaze returning to the screen.
What is Cora to Rune Gavin? On the outside, she’s his adopted daughter. She’s the child of his murdered friends and business partners. She’s something else too that none of us have yet to voice. Or maybe it’s that we don’t want to.
We’ve been watching the two for a long time. We know the girl’s routines. They differ little from one another, except for Cora meeting with Rune either at his office or his mansion several times a week, but most nights she’s out with various men, while Delilah stays home alone.
Since her divorce from that slimy little fucker, Delilah’s become a recluse, rarely leaving her home. We didn’t want to risk cameras or listening devices being discovered. Our source told us Rune is a paranoid motherfucker, constantly having his men scan for devices, so we had to settle on old-fashioned surveillance.
Maybe this is the cause of that gross, oily feeling in the pit of my stomach. The reason Breaker is so upset. We’ve watched them for too long.
We give them pet names for fucks sake.
The speakers amplifying the sound from the monitor zoomed in on Cora cracks and we all turn to look the screen at the same time. My eyes land on her slight frame. Her body tenses, her legs bending. A dark stain pools on the wood floor under her hip.
I close my eyes, lowering my head. This doesn’t feel like it was supposed to. This bitter taste isn’t anything like the revenge we had planned.
“God damn it,” Breaker hisses.
Viper’s fist hits the desk holding all our masks and gloves and the equipment for the cameras, and we all jerk back, shocked. His blue-green eyes land on Reaper at my back. “This has to stop.”
My gaze moves back to the screen. To the fiery woman we made feel secure enough to allow us to pleasure her, is now curled into a ball, laying in a puddle of her own piss after we betrayed her and stole her from the only life she’s ever known.
I’d think she’d be doing something. Screaming. Crying. Not this blank, empty body lying on the floor, not even fighting her restraints. She isn’t moving. Not trying to inch away from the puddle of urine. She’s…
She’s resigned. Already admiting her defeat.
My hands grip the armrest of my chair as rage rushes through me, coloring the world red for an instant. I breathe in deeply and out through my mouth, tamping down the darkness that’s constantly threatening to break free.
There’s only one way to achieve that level of defeat in a person. Someone has brutalized her before, far worse than this, and the suspicions we’ve all had may have just been confirmed.
“Reaper.” The name slips past Viper’s lips as a plea.
“We can’t fucking do this to her,” Breaker snaps. “I’m untying her.”
“Breaker,” Reaper barks out his name as an order, his mouth twisting in anger. His dark eyes flash dangerously. “If you go into that room, you are violating a direct order.”
Breaker’s brows furrow. “So fucking what, Reap? This isn’t the school.”
“We have orders,” Reaper says, his tone lowering on the last word. “Orders we cannot ignore.”
“Orders, you broke the second you took her,” Viper says.
Breaker steps forward, his chest inches from Reaper, both men’s jaw popping with tension. They are almost the same height, but Reaper bests us all. In size. In strength. Endurance. In every way that matters.
“It has to be done,” Reaper reminds him, eyes like pools of black ice. A slick smile slides up the corner of his mouth. “You of all people know how brutal a breaking can be.”
Breaker’s eyes fall.
Breaker got his name for a reason. He is the breaker of rules. Of codes. Of things.
Of men.
Viper’s tense laugh tears through the room as my brothers relax. I hate it when those two butt heads. Breaker has always, always, been headstrong, going up against orders whenever they don’t sit well with him, so I’m glad when he rolls his head on his shoulders, easing the tension from his neck, though he grinds his teeth. I want to tell him I don’t agree with these orders either, but, well…
It’s too late now. Even if I don’t like what we’re doing to these girls, we all agreed to this.
“Breaking is never pretty,” Reaper says, as he takes a step backward. Reap’s black gaze flickers to the monitor. “But it’s necessary.”
I jump as Breaker’s fist goes through the plaster, breath whooshing out of me in surprise.
Breaker’s clear blue eyes narrow on Reaper. “Necessary? Doing what we had done to us, scaring the shit out of two innocent women, is necessary? Leaving them in isolation? What next? Will we starve them? Beat them? Tell me Reaper, at what point does necessary become your cruel fun?”
“You knew what this mission entailed when you agreed to it,” Reaper growls. Lunging forward, his finger lands the center of Breaker’s chest. “You agreed this was the only way, just like the rest of us.”
Breaker shakes his head, casting his eyes down. We all agreed to this before we knew their bodies. Before we knew what they tasted like. Before we heard them moan and the feral sounds they made as we made them come.
“He’s right,” Viper says quietly, and we all turn our attention to him. He points to the screen with Cora in the center. “But this one? She’s innocent.”
Reaper barks out a laugh that reminds me of our otets. “Innocent? We’ve watched her for a long time. Cora is hardly innocent.”
“We watched her, yes, and we all know she…” Breaker trails off. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes moving back to the screen. She still hasn’t moved.
“Rune Gavin raised her,” Reaper says. He points to the monitor. “Which means she’s manipulative and cunning. This is the only way to get what we need from her.”
“There are better ways to get their cooperation,” Breaker says. “We don’t have to terrify them to get what we need.”
“And suddenly Breaker has a conscience,” Reaper says brutally. “Is it because your cum was still inside her when we took her? Since when does coming in a woman make you care for their well-being?”
Breaker’s palm slams against the door frame. He’s wound up so tight, I fear he may lash out at Reaper.
“There are other ways,” he says again. His eyes focus on the screen behind Reaper for a moment, then bounces between us all. “We agreed to do this, but not with her. She’s not even supposed to be here.”
“He’s right, Reap. She’s just a girl,” Viper says quietly.
Reap laughs. “She’s hardly just a girl. She’s a sly little Vixen, remember?”
I watch her still form on the screen, a gross, slick feeling roiling in my gut, remembering the day we saw her leave Rune’s office. “Ever consider she was made that way?”
Reaper’s gaze locks on the screen. “We’re all made.”
“I’m going in there.”
“Don’t even think it, Breaker,” Reaper snarls as Breaker takes a step back defiantly, almost daring our brother to stop him.
Breaker shakes his head as he backs out of the room. “I will not allow this part, Reap. We don’t have to be cruel to get what we want.”
I expect Reaper to go after him and drag him back to talk some sense into him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sits in the chair next to me, and leans forward, forearms on his thighs, his eyes on the screen. Despite what he says, he doesn’t like this any more than the rest of us.
I think he may like it even less.
Reaper isn’t as cold as he pretends. Like the rest of us, he was made that way, but he’s lying about Cora and he knows it. We all do. The months we spent watching them gave us insight into their lies and Cora’s life wasn’t easy. She’s had it hard with little control of her fate, despite being raised by Rune in wealth. She’s still been surrounded by powerful, cruel men and if what we suspect is true…
She’s had even less control over her body.
“Fucking idiot,” Reaper says, but there’s no anger in his voice. He may think we have to treat them brutally, but we all know he doesn’t want to.
We saw how he acted last night. Cora’s sweetness enchanted him as much as the rest of us. He was verging on the edge of utter madness with Princess the entire night, barely able to restrain himself. We see now how he’s been in and out of the room, coming in to stare at the monitors, watching Delilah closely, then leaving again only to come back and do the same thing. He’s never been like this with a target before and we’ve done this dozens of times. Held targets for days in fact. Watched them break or forced them by any means until we could retrieve the information we needed. Or we just kept them alive until the price was paid. Then we either released them or disposed of them. Whichever we were paid to do.
But we all know this time is different.
This time, they are ours to do with as we please.
Those are our direct orders.
To make her, them, ours, and by the time we’re done with them, they’ll do anything and everything we ask.
“You catch more flies with honey, Reap.” Viper stands and leaves the room, following Breaker.
Several minutes later, the door to Cora’s room cracks open and Breaker and Viper walk in. They must have fucking run to get to her so quickly.
“They’re going to regret this,” Reaper says, eyeing the screen.
I don’t tell him I think we’re all going to regret this, maybe him most of all.