Chapter 28 Thorne
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THORNE
The towel conformed to my face, my lungs screaming for even the smallest break.
Each thrash sent a searing agony up my arms, the bindings responsible for keeping me in place digging into my skin with a bite intending to leave a mark.
My legs were no different, unable to flail despite my desperate attempts to free myself.
A haunting laugh pierced through the indescribable agony, a voice that would forever mark my nightmares. “Look at you taking it like a good boy, Thorne.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
I was drowning.
Drowning.
The towel lifted from my face as he settled in front of me, the dark lust I’d grown accustomed to in the privacy of his quarters returning. “What is it going to be? Another round of screaming from pain, or would you like the reprieve of pleasure?”
“P-Please…” I whined, my body trembling from the onslaught of shock and agony. “I-I… Please…”
His hand struck my cheek, the slap echoing in the stillness of the room. “You know you have to state it, otherwise it’s marked as assault.”
Bile bloomed in the back of my throat, every inch of my body sensitive from the multiple lacerations that coated it. I was at my breaking point—I couldn’t… I couldn’t take…
“P-Pleasure…” I sobbed, shaking my head as every part of me recoiled with the expectations he’d drilled into me. “P-Please… S-Sir…”
“Are you that much of a whore to beg?” He grinned, tossing the towel to the side as the sound of his zipper tainted my ears, prefacing every unholy thing I’d have to endure for the next hour.
“Y-Yes… I-I…”
Stop. I screamed internally, wishing for nothing more than to be bled dry than for him to violate me for another second.
But the words kept coming.
“I am… A…” I gulped, tears welling in my eyes. “W-Whore…”
“My dirty whore. My commander. A weapon both on the field and in these cramped walls, so do what you do best and serve.”
My bottom lip quivered, my mouth opening out of the need for this to be over. As he stepped forward, freeing his length from his dress pants, I drifted to a place far beyond the room. Somewhere…
Gasping, I sat up abruptly. My head swam, sweat coating my body and the sheets wrapped between my legs. Each breath was fractured, my mind struggling to understand where I was as the lines blurred between memory and reality.
“Thorne?” The softness in his voice startled me, those cerulean eyes staring at me.
Oren. God, it was Oren, but those eyes… Those fucking eyes…
All I could see was him.
My chest hitched as I shoved myself from where I lay, my back slamming into the headboard as my panic spiked. “P-Please… I can’t…”
“Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” His timbre was choked, but it was that fucking blue that kept me spiraling further away from him.
“I-I can’t… I can’t…” I whined, my body trembling beneath the weight of my recollection.
Bringing my hands to my neck, I clawed downward, reddening my skin, trying to pull myself from where I’d headed.
My inability to breathe only worsened, my desperate need to find air leading each motion as I dug my nails deeper and deeper.
I knew he was screaming at me to stop, but every sound vanished, the incessant drum of my heart in my ears creating a white noise that only exemplified my trepidation.
Muffled voices rang in the background until a new, clear timbre replaced the broken horrors surrounding those cerulean irises. With a firm grip, hands cradled my cheeks, turning me to face the one person I had found comfort in during my episodes.
Matt let go once my eyes met his, his breathing even and his lips pressed taut. “Box breathing. I start, you finish. Got it?”
“I-I can’t… I-I…” Each attempt to speak came out as a pathetic sob, my body trembling as I battled against the talons wrapped around my throat. “M-Matt… P-Please… I-I…”
“I know. I’ve got you.” Matt settled on the bed, his frame blocking the image plaguing my mind at seeing those fucking eyes. “In for four.”
Swallowing, I shook my head. “J-Just… Please… J-Just kill m-me… I can’t… d-do this… I can’t do t-this… a-anymore…”
“You focus on me.” Reaching to the side, Matthew grabbed a pillow, stuffing it against my chest. “What’s in your lap?”
“W-What?” The question caught me off-guard, deterring my attention briefly.
“What did I give you?” Matthew asked again, the sincerity in his tone continuing to catch me off guard.
“A-A pillow…?”
“Good. What’s it feel like?”
“Like a pillow…?”
“Sure, like a pillow,” he repeated. “What color is it?”
“T-That’s a stupid q-question when you c-can see it yourself, i-idiot…”
Matt chuckled. “Maybe I’ve lost my eyesight, and I’m relying on you to tell me. What color is it?”
“Fucking w-white.” Securing my grip around it, I tossed it at him. “God, y-you’re annoying.”
“I would say it’s more of an off-white color, but we can agree to disagree.”
“I thought you said you lost your eyesight?” I shot back, not even realizing my panic had nearly subsided.
“What’s a friend for without a lie here or there?”
Those words. That playfulness. The underlying meaning.
Anger rolled forward once more. “Right. You’re familiar with the concept aren’t you?”
Matthew sighed, raking his hand through his hair, the stubble along his jaw noticeable as it tightened. “Right.”
Every emotion that’d rendered me breathless shifted into something far more sinister, a fire reigniting within me that I knew they’d never be able to put out. “You’re fucking unbelievable. Leveraging vulnerability now too? God, how fucking pathetic have you become?”
“I came here to apologize, Thorne. For betraying you. For hiding it from you in the first place and for how I acted outside while you burned the drawings.”
“Drawings?” Oren chimed in, the shaking of the word unmistakable. “What… What drawings burned?”
“As if you have a right to be upset after what you pulled,” I snarled, wrath consuming my ability to think straight.
“But since you inherently love making everything about you and your feelings, it was the ones you’d thrown together as if you could somehow make up for the damage you fucking caused. ”
“T-Thrown together? The ones… The ones I’d drawn for you?”
“Sucks when someone destroys something you love, doesn’t it?”
Oren took in a breath, swallowing whatever lies he wanted to throw my way. “I’m sorry.”
“Lies,” I snarled, my teeth grinding together. “Everything you utter is a fucking lie.”
“Thorne, if you want to take your anger out on someone, you can do it to me. I’m the one who dropped the ball. I’m the one who pushed for this mission. It’s my mistake, and I—”
My knuckles collided with Matthew’s mouth before he could continue speaking, the force of the punch enough to send him off the bed and onto the ground.
Shoving myself up from where I sat, my feet collided with the cold wood, its temperature doing nothing to dampen the ire seconds away from consuming me.
Lifting my leg, I drove my foot into his stomach. “I don’t believe I fucking asked you.”
Coughing, crimson dripped from his lips, but Matthew didn’t move. “I know. If you need to hit me, that’s fine. I fucking deserve it.” And there it was, the resolve in his gaze that made Matthew a ferocity on the squad. Once determined, it was limitless.
“You want me to kick the shit out of you?” I scoffed, cracking my neck as I bent down, gathering a handful of his collar. “Fine.”
Holding him in place, my fist greeted his face time and time again, the sound of cracking cartilage and bone filling the space.
The viscosity of his lineage became detectable on my knuckles, chest, and face, but I didn’t fucking care.
I didn’t care. Not when they so willingly tossed me to the side as if I hadn’t mattered, as I never had.
Arms wrapped around my waist, hauling me a step back from Matthew before I could get another hit in.
Oren.
Fucking Oren.
He maneuvered himself against my chest, clinging to me with every ounce of strength he had. He was fucking blocking my path.
Shoving him away from me, I lifted my arm, backhanding him with a force that rivaled a punch. “Don’t. Fucking. Touch. Me.”
Tears welled in his eyes, but that determination, the stubbornness I’d once fallen in love with, remained. “Okay… Okay, I won’t touch you.” He lifted his palms and took another step back. “I’m here for you. We’re both here for you… but I know we fucked up.”
“Yeah? Do you? Because you both attempted to brush it off as if it were nothing! As if I were nothing!”
Matt grunted, pressing his hands into the floor for leverage, but he faltered. “F-Fuck. I know.”
Oren nodded. “I know… I know, and it wasn’t right.”
“After what we fucking established with one another. The promises we fucking made.” My chest heaved, tears welling in my eyes, but I forced them back. “You,” I locked eyes with Oren, my throat bobbing, “you went against it all.”
He let out a sob, his head nodding in agreement. “I did… I fucking did, and it was a mistake.”
“No, Oren…” Matt sniffed, lifting his arm to attempt to swipe the blood from his face. “You followed my orders. I thought… I thought it was best.”
Scoffing, I shook my head. “You didn’t bother taking my feelings into consideration when you made your decisions, so sitting here shedding tears is beyond pathetic.
Following orders or not, Oren holds a title that he could’ve leveraged.
He never had to obey your command, because you are not the commander of this goddamn squadron.
So stop making fucking excuses. If sympathy is what you’re looking for with me, you won’t fucking find it. ”
“No… No sympathy or forgiveness,” Matt answered. “He didn’t have to, but we told him you’d be okay once the plan was unveiled. It was wrong, and I leveraged our friendship.”
“And he believed you, after everything he knew about me.” Rolling my eyes, I clenched my jaw tighter. “Just… fucking forget it. Get out of my goddamn room.”
“No. We can’t forget it, because it was wrong.”
Oren’s sniffles filled the space, his hands wiping the wetness from his cheeks. “I did… I did believe them, and nothing I can say will change the fact I did what I did, but I can’t leave you. I don’t want to.”
“Suppose you should’ve considered that before you took a knife and drove it through my fucking chest.” Lifting my arm, I pointed toward the door. “Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
Oren shook his head, his fingernails digging into his arms. “N-No.”
“I will not repeat myself, Valens.”
He shook his head, reaching into his back pocket to reveal a singular photo and the cross he used to wear around his neck.
Tossing the necklace onto the table, he unfurled the photo of my family, taped together and worn in spots.
“This is your family, Thorne, and you would’ve done anything to protect them. ”
“If this is some fucked up form of justification for the level of hurt you instilled upon me, you can shove it up your fucking ass.”
“No. No, it’s not.” Oren took a breath. “I just wanted to give this to you. I-I found it in my room under some of my drawing papers and forgot to return it.”
“Cool. Thanks.” My expression remained unchanged, brows lifting. “Now get out.”
Handing it over, Oren helped to collect Matt from the ground, his arm pressed against his nose to keep it from leaking any crimson. “O-Okay. I’ll… I’ll come by later.”
“Don’t bother,” I stated, walking them to the door. “Our relationship was nothing more than a waste of time. There’s nothing left to fucking salvage.”
With a quiet sob, he exited with Matt, leaving me alone just like everyone always had.