Chapter 5 Confession 5 #4
“They—They put me in The Tank, and Rafe was there. He saw I was drowning and he tried to show me to break the glass by ramming into the glass window up in the balcony,” I started, shaking my head.
“But then Halden put us together in a deprivation chamber and Rafe kissed me. He—He kissed me and we got out in this room, and I was strapped to the bed, and then Rafe shot everyone.” I hiccupped, dots blurring the corners of my vision.
“Fuck, I—” The blanket fell from my shoulder as I reached down to my abdomen, my hands shaking as I found the source of all the blood.
“Jesus Christ, she was shot,” Kane said.
Kane pressed his hands over mine against my stomach, my knees buckling. “Arden, keep those eyes open, sweetheart.”
Thorne pounded on the door.
“He can’t hear you,” I said as I fell over, my eyelids drooping. Thorne caught me and I slouched into his chest with a tortured laugh. “He’s deaf.”
“What?” It seemed to be the only word Thorne could get out.
Kane cursed low. “She’s right. We can’t use sound. We need another way to signal him.”
Thorne shook his head. “She’s losing blood fast.”
“Here. Keep pressure on the wound,” Kane instructed.
He slicked a bloody hand through his hair and charged up to the camera in the top far corner.
“Mr. Halden,” he growled. “If you could so kindly send a fucking medic, you’re billion dollar asset is bleeding out all over the floor, and let me assure you—if Arden Creed dies, so will you. ”
There was a crackle, like a speaker turning on.
Then the bastard’s voice answered. “It is amazing the gusto you boys have when your Doll is nearing life support. A medic is on the way. If you could so kindly tell your gunslinger to stop shooting down my men, then maybe our good doctor will make it in time.”
“Fuuuuck!” Kane shouted. He looked at me lying in Thorne’s lap. “Now we have to rely on gun-happy Rafe fucking Creed not to shoot down Arden’s goddamn life preserver.”
And it really was all we could do—wait. Shots kept firing on the other side of the door until they slowed and a whistle blew. It was meant to be a warning, a signal that someone was coming out with their hands up, I just hoped Rafe saw their hands before he shot.
The ceiling spun as I stared up at it. Thorne and Kane were saying things, trying to keep my eyes open, but I found myself wanting to drift.
I knew if I was saved, their lives were all about to become infinitely worse and it’d be my fault.
We revealed a major weakness that day; we were family.
A sick, twisted family, but that was exactly what we were, and now?
Now Halden knew just how far we would go to protect each other, how great of a shot Rafe is if it means keeping me safe. I was…a liability.
But if I died, in theory, I’d be saving them from so much hurt.
I didn’t want to die, but I would’ve for them.
Somehow, in that one month, Kane and Rafe had filled more space in my name, carving their places next to Leah and Thorne.
It was a stupid thing I was doing—getting attached—especially as I laid there with a hole in my fucking stomach.
But then the cell door swung open, and the medic was there.
She was older, her skin wrinkled, but she had surprisingly kind eyes for being a resident of the compound.
She began inspecting my wound, and my tired gaze flitted up past her, my throat working as I saw Rafe break.
Truly just crack open as he realized what had happened.
He stared at my wound, and he lowered his gun, his skin a sickly pallor.
His jaw was slack, his dark eyes swimming with guilt.
The medic prodded at the wound. “Through-and-through,” she muttered, voice clipped but competent.
Cool metal kissed my skin; gauze pressed; a needle bit.
Thorne’s hand trembled against my hair and I wanted to tell him to be steady, that I needed him steady, but my mouth wouldn’t shape anything except the little gasps the sutures tore out of me.
Kane paced like a caged thing, blood drying in tiger stripes up his forearms. His blond hair was a muddy red from the amount of times he’d scraped his bloody hands through it. He kept looking at me, then at Rafe, and at his brother. Back and forth.
There was a long time that I believed Kane to be an idiot.
Brute force, a bit of a bully, and definitely not smart.
Watching him that month, seeing him in that moment, I knew how wrong I was.
He saw clearly that the worst was ahead of us, and he knew just as I did that saving me meant damning us all.
I knew he knew because I saw his eyes drift to Rafe’s gun.
It wasn’t a long look, and he covered a hand over his mouth after he did, squeezing his eyes shut and pacing to the corner of the room, but it was enough.
Kane had thought briefly to kill me, and it’d made him the smartest person in that cell.
“Pressure,” the medic said. Thorne bore down with the heel of his palm.
I hissed and clutched his wrist. “Sorry, baby,” he breathed, eyes glassing.
There was real fear in his face, and I’d hated that.
Back at Viktor’s, Thorne was soft sometimes beneath the leather jacket and the smokes he claimed he didn’t actually smoke, but he didn’t lose his shit.
He just didn’t. He was the calm of our storm, the level headed Creed.
Rafe may have been quieter than Thorne, but his chaos often rivaled Kane’s.
Thorne couldn’t break that day. I couldn’t let him.
He needed to live so they all could live, and I guessed that meant I’d have to keep on living too.
The sutures pulled tight. The medic taped, wrapped.
“You’ll live for now,” she said to me as if she was in my head, hearing me circle torment.
“But you tear this dressing, and you’ll bleed again.
Don’t.” Her eyes cut to the camera, and for a second I could have sworn there was anger in them.
Then she gathered her kit and knocked twice on the door.
It opened, she slipped out, and the bolt slammed into place.
She was there one second, gone the next, and I was somehow miraculously no longer bleeding out thanks to her.
Still, my eyes were heavy. I couldn’t stay awake much longer.
Just the thought seemed to send me comatose.
I briefly felt the light around me fade, the sensation of Thorne picking me up gently and placing me in bed, then the hush of someone lying a blanket over my naked, bandaged body.
Then it wasn’t just the light. Everything faded, and when it did, I leaned into the embrace of darkness with a sigh.
It wasn’t peaceful, sleep never was, but it was easier to escape than life.
All I needed to do was wake up if the nightmares came too fast and dark, but even when they did a few hours in, I kept my eyes closed as my ears pricked with the voices of Creed.
“You kissed her?” Thorne asked, his voice rough.
I was only half awake, trying to drift back toward sleep.
“You kissed her,” he said again with more finality. “Do you love her?”
I wished I’d known what Rafe answered, but my eyes were glued shut, my breath deepening and pulling me far, far away from them again.
"Brother, be honest," Kane said, surprisingly gentle. "Do you love her? Do you even know what that is? Because fucking hell, if neither of you do, then you need to get your dicks out of your heads. That kind of shit will be used against us, so you better make sure it's worth the risk."
“I don't know,” Thorne said after what felt like centuries.
“I don't exactly have anything to compare it to.” He swallowed. I knew he did. I could picture the three of them sitting on Rafe’s bunk.
Kane was there too, he had to have been.
I imagined Kane and Thorne sat on either side of Rafe, the three of them leaning on their knees as they watched me sleep in the bunk across.
"At the end of the day, I'm not sure it fucking matters. "
Kane grunted in agreement, but there was still nothing from Rafe. It was quiet for some time, but I heard the bunk shift, like someone was moving.
“You’re fucking with us. Tell me you’re fucking with us,” Kane said after a long silence, and I realized that Rafe was trying to tell them something. Just the possibility that he was had me desperate to see him.
Tugging out of the dregs of sleep, I peeked through my lashes.
I’d been right. They all sat there on the edge of Rafe’s bunk, bruised and exhausted, covered in blood.
Their grey uniforms were all stained, Thorne and Kane watching as Rafe tried to act things out like a sick game of charades.
He seemed to be finishing, tapping the gun he still had a few times.
He must've been trying to explain exactly what had happened.
“I won’t do that to her,” Thorne said, his voice cracking. “How could any of us? We were raised to be used, not to be users.”
Kane dropped his face in his hands. “He’ll try again.
Halden will pair us with her if it means obedience.
He’s built this, all of this, to make us care enough that now?
If we lose each other? Have to hurt each other?
It’s the ultimate test. He’s not going to let us go until we’ve given him what he wants. ”
“I’m not going to rape my girlfriend,” Thorne spat. “That sadistic psychopath can choke on my balls before I lay a hand on Arden that she doesn’t want, and Kane—I swear to god—if you give in, I’ll kill you.”
I was stiff listening to them. I’d purposely kept my breathing even, trying not to draw attention. Though I hated to admit it, I didn’t trust completely that they wouldn’t give in to Halden’s demand, and it was further confirmed with Kane.