Chapter 3 #3
Somehow the two of them got me on the horse.
I clung to a handful of its mane as my head spun.
The horse swung its head back, huffing curiously at my pants.
Trey said something to Griz, but the words sounded jumbled.
Then his arms closed around me and he urged the horse forward.
I tipped backward into Trey’s chest. He wrapped one arm around my waist, holding me against him, and the warmth of his solid body behind me felt nice.
My head rolled to the side, resting on his chin.
I shouldn’t be doing this, I knew, but I couldn’t remember why. Maybe Wolf would be mad?
I promised myself that I’d figure it out later as my eyes drifted shut.
—
“That’s not what I fucking asked, Trey. Did you know?”
“Mac, listen, godsdamnit. She tried to hide it. I barely got her to let me patch up her shoulder ’cause she didn’t want us to see it.”
I opened my eyes. I was lying on a mattress. A single electric bulb dangled from rickety rafters. My head throbbed, but adrenaline shot through me like a drug. I closed my eyes again before anyone noticed.
“You shoulda told me.” Mac growled out the words.
“Mac, I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what? You didn’t think it was important to tell me Juck fuckin’ branded her like an animal?”
“It wasn’t my story to tell.” Trey sounded angry. “I thought you of all people would understand that.”
The silence crackled with emotion.
“He branded her?” someone else finally asked.
“Burned a big J right into her chest.” Griz spoke up.
“I doubt that’s all he did,” Trey said darkly.
“Fuckin’ bastard.”
“I think he’s dead.”
“Good.”
“You met him once, right?”
“Yeah, me and Griz.”
I couldn’t tell who was speaking anymore, but I didn’t dare open my eyes or move.
“Hated him from the moment I laid eyes on him. We didn’t see her, though.”
“Yeah, well, he woulda kept her hidden, I bet.”
“Didn’t the Reapers deal in slaves?”
“Mostly.” I recognized Mac’s voice. “The slavers hired them to deliver people purchased by warlords. But they also scavenged and bartered anything worth something, and you could hire them to do anything so long as you were willing to pay for it.”
“Was it the Reapers who tracked down that woman who ran away from the warlord near Salt?”
“You mean hunted her down and tortured her before turning her over half dead? Yeah. That was them.”
I had to clamp down on the memories that surged: the sound of the woman’s screams, me breaking down and begging Juck to stop, the beating I received for daring to question his decisions.
“What did Madame say?”
“That she’s our responsibility.”
“Oh, great,” someone said sarcastically.
I cracked my eyes open enough to see who was talking, hating that I couldn’t keep track.
“Another fucking test?” Griz frowned.
“It’s my fault.” Pain filled Trey’s voice.
“Trey, don’t,” Mac said. “She’s just pissed we actually delivered.”
“What she did last night—”
“I know,” Mac cut Trey off.
“Mac, I can’t—”
“I know,” Mac repeated more firmly, but he didn’t sound angry.
“Gods, won’t this be fun.” Sam crossed his arms, frowning.
“Is she gonna die?” a young voice asked. “What’ll Madame do to us if she dies?”
“Nah, Jax, she’s not gonna die. I’m sure she just needs rest,” Trey said.
“Lana’s gonna lose her shit,” Griz muttered.
“We need to set up a rotation,” Mac said. “Trey, you—”
“I got it,” Trey interrupted. “You can—”
I tried to be quiet as I shifted, my arm tingling from my position, but the floor underneath my mattress creaked loudly and all five of them stared at me.
“Welcome back,” Trey said.
I pushed myself up with shaky arms, feeling far too vulnerable lying down.
My head still pounded, but the rest of me did feel better.
My stomach dropped as I noticed their eyes flicking to my chest. I glanced down, and my panic swelled at the sight of my shirt’s low neckline displaying the brand on my chest.
“How you feeling?” Trey strode over and crouched next to the mattress. “And if you say you’ll be fine one more time, I’m gonna give you a narc.”
My heart leapt into my throat at the mention of the heavy drugs. I knew I didn’t manage to contain my terror when Trey’s eyes narrowed.
“My head hurts,” I said fast before he could ask any questions.
“Can I?” He reached out toward my forehead, and despite feeling uncomfortable, I nodded. He pressed a large, warm hand to my forehead and then let out a relieved sigh. “Fever’s gone. You want some water?”
“Where’s my flannel?” I whispered.
“Right here.” He reached behind me, plucking my shirt from the floor. “I’ll get you some water.”
I pulled it on as fast as I could and buttoned it up without looking at the silent group standing at the table watching me. My skin crawled at the attention. When Trey came back with a chipped ceramic mug of water, I took it gratefully.
Mac moved forward to stand behind Trey, his arms crossed over his chest. I couldn’t help glancing down to his stomach, the memory of the giant gash in his gut and the fear in his eyes racing through my mind.
“We gotta talk,” Mac said.
“Come on, Jax.” Griz steered the boy outside with Sam following, leaving me alone with Trey and Mac.
Trey looked resigned. I took a large gulp of water and tried to hide my anxiety.
“Madame would like to offer you a job here as healer for the Vault,” Mac said, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.
“And if I decline?”
Something like discomfort flashed across his stoic face. “That’s not an option.”
I wasn’t expecting anything else, but the heavy wave of hopeless dread washed over me again.
“You can stay here at the clinic,” Mac continued after it became clear I wasn’t gonna ask anything else.
“There’s a loft.” He gestured at a ladder I hadn’t noticed before.
“Upstairs can be your lodging. You can have whatever’s left here from the previous healer.
Madame had a stash of narcs.” He motioned toward a dingy safe that had recently been placed in the room, judging by the absence of dust on it.
“Trey and I have the key, so you can ask us to open the safe when you need one. Madame wants you under guard to make sure you’re… cooperative.”
I made a scornful noise under my breath and those sharp eyes narrowed on me.
“You’ve been officially added to my crew,” he said bitterly, letting me know how he felt about that decision, “and yes, I expect you to be cooperative.”
I bristled but managed to keep my mouth shut.
“You will replace Exo. You’ll be under our protection and answer directly to me or Trey, but you will follow my rules. I don’t tolerate any of my crew causing harm to each other or putting each other’s safety in jeopardy.”
I resisted the urge to look at the bite mark on Trey’s arm.
“Madame will have”—he hesitated for the briefest moment—“special projects for you from time to time. But if you follow orders, you can make a real place here.”
After last night I knew what sort of “special projects” I’d be expected to do. I couldn’t torture anyone like that again. I couldn’t.
You’ll do what you have to to survive, Wolf corrected.
Anger burned in my throat. A small part of me had hoped this place would be different, and I hated myself for it.
They may have treated me better, but nothing had really changed.
I’d exchanged Juck for Madame, the Reapers for Mac’s crew.
With Juck I’d been forced to watch people I could save die, and here I’d be forced to heal people who’d probably prefer to die than experience endless torture.
Gods, I would never be able to atone for anything.
Why couldn’t I simply heal people without hurting them?
I knew I should keep my mouth shut, but my temper got the best of me.
“So that’s what you two did, then?” I asked. “Followed orders? Tortured a few people here and there?”
Trey recoiled, but Mac’s expression turned dark.
“Watch your mouth, Bones,” Mac warned.
He sounded so much like Wolf that I saw red. “Or what?” I shot back. “You’ll tell Madame that I’m uncooperative?”
“Bones, we’re trying to help you—” Trey tried to interject.
“I don’t want your fucking help!” I leapt to my feet, my voice rising. “I never wanted it! I don’t want to be a part of your fucking crew. I didn’t ask for any of this!”