Chapter 4 Confession 4 #2
Thorne released my hand then, rolling his shoulders back.
Both Rafe and Kane took over similar postures, so I forced myself taller.
Our Buyer paid a pretty penny, after all.
We needed to act the part. My heels clicked as I followed the three Creed, my eyes darting across their broad shoulders, Thorne and Kane flanking either side of Rafe.
Rafe may not have been blood-related, but their Creed tattoos sealed their brotherhood indefinitely.
I glanced down at my DOLL tattoo, my lip curling slightly with anger.
I deserved the Creed mark, and I’d have it by the end of the year if it was the last thing I did.
The doors sealed behind us with a hydraulic hiss. The room was cavernous, the walls poured concrete, the air sharp with disinfectant. Soldiers stood shoulder to shoulder along the perimeter, rifles at their sides, mirrored visors erasing their faces.
“Bags,” someone said.
My suitcase was dumped onto a steel table and pulled open.
“Strip,” the next voice said.
I stepped out of my shoes, the concrete cold.
“Everything,” the guard barked.
They took the pearls from my neck, fingers quick, before they helped me peel the dress from my body with the same neutral attention.
Fabric slid, slipped, and pooled at my feet.
For a second I thought of Leah’s hands in my hair and then there was no room for thought.
A guard circled with a camera, the lens capturing me.
Front. Profile. Back. Another cut away the holsters at my thighs, taking away my gun and lighter.
My bra came next, folded and cataloged. A swab to my mouth.
Then a scalpel against the back of my neck.
The sting of them cutting caused me to jolt, blinking rapidly as they slid something beneath my skin.
Thorne cursed, "What the fuck is that?"
They answered with a rifle butt to his temple.
He went silent after that, his worried gaze meeting mine.
Kane was forced onto his knees, fingers interlocked behind his head, while a guard surveyed his tattoos.
Rafe stood like a statue, palms flat to a wall they’d cornered him toward, his jaw working as he, too, had some kind of small, blinking device placed into the back of his neck.
They took the most pictures of him and I, the camera’s flash fucking blinding me while another guard stitched up the cut, sealing the device in.
When they were done, the group of soldiers handed each of us a plain, gray uniform and pushed us into narrow corridors.
They led us to a single room with four bunks, a thin mattress for each.
It was exactly how I imagined a jail cell would look except less solitary.
The only thing that held my panic at bay was the fact I wasn’t alone.
The door banged shut. A bolt slid into place, and the four of us stood there, crowded near the door, staring at our new home.
“Well,” Kane said after a long moment, the first one to lurch forward, “I call dibs on a top bunk.”
Thorne reached for my fingers and gave them a reassuring squeeze, then climbed the ladder of the second bunk. His weight shifted the frame as he settled, one leg hanging down, gaze fixed on the door. “I’ll take first watch.”
Kane chuckled. “Settle, bulldog. I doubt anyone’s snatching us tonight. We’ll probably get our assignments in the morning.”
“Assignments?” I asked.
I took the bunk beneath Thorne, the thin mattress creaking as I sat down. Across the narrow aisle, Rafe sat on his own bottom bunk, elbows braced on his knees, shadows cutting across his face. He hung his head and ran his fingers up through his hair.
Kane sprawled into the mattress above him, making a show of sighing loud enough for all of us. “They didn’t buy us just to sit pretty, sweetheart,” he muttered, tugging his blanket over his head. “Get some shut eye. We’re going to need it, I’m sure.”
The room settled. I should’ve felt safer with Thorne above me, but the tension across the aisle pulled harder.
Rafe laid back, hands behind his head, but his face was tilted toward me, his dark eyes looking me over. The light clicked off, darkness swallowing the cell. But even then, I felt him watching.
With a heavy breath, I laid down facing the wall, my back to him, and pulled my blanket up over me.
I wasn’t sure if I found sleep, or if it found me, but I woke with a hand over my mouth.
My eyes flashed open, my nostrils flaring and adrenaline rushing. It was so dark in the cell. I couldn't make out who was above me, only the shape of their tall frame lit by the faint glow of the camera in the far corner.
"You're okay," a deep voice grumbled, and I immediately recognized Kane.
My throat felt sore, like I’d been…oh. I sleep talked. Sleep screamed, really. Leah noticed it growing up. My nightmares could be brutal, but I’d never really had to share a room with anyone besides Viktor. Even he didn’t stay the whole night.
The edge of my bed dipped when he sat beside me, gently releasing my mouth. “You can’t go waking us up every night,” Kane said quietly, his words barely above a whisper.
“I can’t control it.” I sat up and glanced over at Rafe. My eyes slowly adjusted further, and I made him and Kane out better. Thorne snored above us.
“My brother sleeps like the fucking dead,” Kane admitted. “Me, on the other hand, not so much.” He managed a small grin. “Get those bad dreams in order, alright? I need my beauty sleep.”
“Sorry,” I told him. “I’ll lie on my stomach. That way it will at least be muffled.”
He nodded and stood. “Thanks, Doll.”
My stomach churned, and I sat up further, my lips pulling into a frown as he climbed up to his bunk. “Kane,” I said solemnly. “Don’t call me that in private. Please.”
He peered over the edge of his bunk with an apologetic look. It was the most genuine I’d ever seen him. “You got it, sweetheart. Now go back to sleep.”
But the nightmares came back with a vengeance.
I could feel myself thrashing in my sleep, but I couldn’t stop either.
I felt trapped in a state of paralysis, unable to keep myself from screaming.
It wasn't until something warm grabbed my hand that my body finally allowed itself to rest. It felt like an anchor, like nothing could hurt me as long as I kept hold of it, my grip tight.
Sometime in the night, I rolled over with a yawn and froze, shocked at what I found.
A second camera in the opposite corner had been turned on, its red recording light adding another layer of brightness to the room. Kane was asleep sitting on the ground beside my bed, his head on my mattress, and his hand tucked in mine.
I swallowed, not sure if I should remove my hand from his or hold onto him tighter.
I shifted, letting myself curl in toward him and deciding on the latter, wrapping my other hand around both of ours and holding his fingers like the lifeline they felt like.
My eyes fell heavy, but I made out Rafe across from us and stiffened.
His eyes were open and alert, as if he hadn’t gone to sleep yet, and he was staring at mine and Kane’s hands.
Slowly, his gaze trailed up and met mine.
He looked strange. Not angry. Not sad. Just…
unsure. It occurred to me that Rafe had never been purchased by a Buyer with any other person before.
He was always sent off alone. I couldn’t imagine what that must’ve been like.
Even that small kindness from Kane was more than what Rafe had likely seen all his life.
I hesitated slightly before I lifted my hand from clasping mine and Kane’s, extending it toward Rafe.
His eyes darted down to my fingers, his entire body jerking back a little as if I’d shocked him with my gesture.
His brows pulled together, the confusion on his face truly heartbreaking.
I would never call myself a lucky girl, but maybe in Viktor’s house, I had been.
I’d had Leah. Then I had Thorne. Now, I’d been bought, but I had all three Creeds with me.
I’d never had to be alone. What did Rafe have growing up?
Anyone? He didn’t even have Kane until the last four years, and even then, he was still sold off alone until now.
For a moment, I thought he might take my hand. His eyes lingered on my fingers, his brows still drawn in that way that made my chest hurt. I held my breath, waiting, wanting—because if anyone needed the small mercy of a hand held, it was him.
But then his jaw flexed, and he turned away.
Nothing but the shift of his shoulders as he rolled to his side, his back cutting me off.
The rejection stung sharper than I expected.
My hand hovered there a beat longer, suspended in the space between us, before I pulled it back into the safety of Kane’s grip.
“Safe dreams, Rafe,” I whispered.
I don’t really know what made me say that. Safe instead of sweet. I think deep down I knew we were all a little too rotted to ever claim anything sweet, but safety—there was still a way to safety. In the small things. When we were alone or together.
He turned back at my words, his chin hooking over his shoulder. I honestly thought he might speak. That I’d hear him say, Safe dreams, Arden. But he didn’t. His gaze fastened to my mouth, then flicked up to my eyes. His brows drew together again, his lips pressing together in frustration.
It was then I realized, despite living near his orbit for over a decade, that it wasn’t that Rafe Creed didn’t want to talk; it was that he couldn’t hear. He sensed I’d spoken, but he had no idea what I said. So I said it again, mouthing the words to test my theory, without saying them aloud.
Almost imperceptibly, breaking my heart a little further, the corner of his mouth hooked with a small smile before he turned back to the wall.
The lights came on without warning, a blinding flood that burned through my eyelids and set every nerve screaming awake. Boots hit the floor outside our cell.
“On your feet!”