Chapter 36 #2
“I’m not picky, my stomach is just weird,” I complain.
“Didn’t say you were,” Lars grunts. “This is a grilled cheese sandwich with chopped zucchini and tomatoes. I cut it into fourths for you.”
My lips purse as he puts the plate down in front of me, and then my stomach growls with hunger. Well, here goes nothing. Lars has a way with food few other people do, and I love grilled cheese sandwiches. Taking a bite, I sigh as I chew.
“Mmm. The zucchini is everything,” I mumble. “I don’t know why this works as well as it does.”
“You need more vegetables,” he grins. “I will happily sneak them in ways that don’t involve a green smoothie.”
“Real food is yummy.”
Hollis chuckles as I eat, piling her plate up with food. I’m so glad her mother didn’t ruin her ability to eat. From what I remember, she was fucking mean.
“You were my favorite reason to come over to your house,” she confesses. “Caleb and Lars are great, but their testosterone can be very difficult to deal with sometimes.”
“I feel so unloved,” Lars grunts. “It’s true though. The second she was through the door, she wanted to know where you were.”
“I was missing a piece of my heart, and hanging out with you helped,” she says. “Your brothers would be tired of letting us hang out and would insert themselves to be involved.”
“Sometimes, I didn’t know what to talk about with you,” Caleb says. “The second you turned twelve, Dad tried to tell Lars and I that it wasn’t normal for us to spend so much time with you.”
“He was such a dick,” Hollis groans. “May he burn in hell. I have video and photos for you once you’re done eating.”
“Oooh, yay video!” I say happily.
“I love you,” Lyle says as if in awe, shaking his head. “I’ve never met anyone else who is so tiny and lethal.”
“Make sure you don’t,” I reply, picking up the third section of my sandwich.
“Down girl,” Hollis laughs. “I’m going to need to make visits to come see you.”
I know my brothers’ natural default setting is overbearing and grumpy. It’s simply who they are. Not every day will be good, and we’ll still undoubtedly fight. Today, they’re on their best behavior because my nerves are a little raw.
All omegas are a little sensitive post heat.
Once I’m finished, I take a long sip of water, but end up draining the glass.
“Wow,” Lars says, taking it from me and refilling it. “Dehydrated, huh?”
“A little…”
“Shh. That’s going to lead to questions no brother needs to know,” Hollis says quickly, pulling out her phone.
“You’re changing the subject with murder photos?” Troy asks, smothering a grin behind his fork. “Damn, things got desperate.”
“The less these two think about their baby sister having a heat, the better,” she whispers, clicking on an album. “Scroll to the left, Alisa. You’ll find everything there.”
Taking it from her, I gaze at the first photo.
Lars is digging a knife into our father’s body as he hangs from the ceiling while Caleb burns his arm hair with an electric stick lighter.
Dad’s face is filled with pain, which means they’re doing their job.
Sliding my finger to the left, I see he’s laying on a tilted table with weights over his ankles to keep him anchored as his legs dangle over the edge.
They put the hood back over his face and Lars is drenching it with a large bucket of water.
Scrolling again, I squeal excitedly as I see it’s a video.
“Turn it up, Little Fighter,” Lyle says, watching beside me.
My brothers rigged my father’s body in a way that his ankles are held up by their pulleys. His ass is hanging over the edge of the tilted table, and an electric prod is shoved up his hole. Caleb shocks him repeatedly while he’s being waterboarded, and at one point it stops his heart.
“That’s when Doc stepped in,” Hollis says, looking over my shoulder. She’s standing now, watching me go through the album. “Keep going. The guys were meticulous about doing what you wanted.”
The next video is Caleb digging Dad’s eyes out with a hot spoon, while Lars watches.
“You’re not looking so hot, Dad,” he grunts. “Too bad we’re nowhere near done.”
“She’s just a fucking girl!” Dad screams. “You can stop this and we’ll never speak of this again.”
“No we can’t. I’m tired of your fucking yelling. None of it is helpful. Caleb, can you cut out his tongue?”
“It’s been awhile, but I can manage that,” Caleb grins.
“Wait,” Hollis says. “He needs to eat his eyes first. I swear, this is why I’m here. Get it right, boys.”
I can’t help but snicker as they indeed make him eat his eyes, and then they cut his tongue out before sewing up his lips. There are countless videos and photographs of torture, and I sigh happily as I watch my new favorite show.
The last video is of Dad being fed to the meat grinder while still alive and his muffled screams are filled with pain. I drink more water as they start with his feet and keep going until he finally dies.
“Best present ever.”
“Damn, I don’t know how we’re ever going to top this then,” Caleb snorts.
“This sounds insane, but I can’t remember my birthday,” I say suddenly. “Oh shit. I’m twenty-six now, aren’t I?”
“Did we miss your birthday?” Lyle asks.
“Your birthday is February first,” Hollis says. “You are twenty-six.”
“I was a little busy in February,” I say with a wince. “I blinked and half the year went by.”
“I know we didn’t know, but I hate that we missed it,” Troy murmurs. “Can we have a half birthday?”
“I’m pretty sure I have cake,” Lars says, standing.
“We don’t have to do that,” I say, blushing.
“Ah, yes we do,” Hollis says, easing her phone away from me. “Feel free to cry because we’re awesome, but we’ve missed enough of your birthdays.”
My lips tremble as Lars comes out with a strawberry chocolate cake like it’s no big deal.
“I had someone order this and not pay for it,” he explains. “I don’t often make cakes, so I was kind of pissed about it. Now, I can be less grumpy about it.”
My alphas make room on the table for Lars and someone knocks on the door.
“We’re closed!” my brother yells. The knock just gets louder as he pulls out candles from his back pocket, and he glares at it. “Oh. I forgot about Doc. Caleb, will you let him in.”
“He’s going to think we’re insane,” I sniffle, tears streaming down my face.
“It’s a little too late for that,” Silas drawls, picking me out of my seat as he moves into it. I settle in his lap as Doc walks in with a large shopping bag, trying to figure out what’s going on.
“Whose birthday is it?” he asks.
“It’s so silly,” I groan.
“There’s nothing wrong with a little silliness,” he grunts, putting down the bag.
“Alisa is twenty-six,” Silas drawls. “While she was doing her damnedest to stay alive, the world missed her birthday. Since we’re in the middle of June, it feels like the perfect opportunity to celebrate her half birthday.”
“Fuck yes it is,” Doc says. “I don’t think there’s anything silly about that. Are we singing too?”
“Oh yeah,” Hollis grins.
Lars finishes placing the candles in and lights them with a flourish. The stick lighter used on my father, and I feel inappropriate giggles bubble up inside of me. What are the odds that it’s the same one?
Silas’ eyes follow my gaze and his chest rumbles with laughter. “It probably is,” he whispers, understanding my train of thought.
My humor turns to more tears as the people closest to me sing the happy birthday song, and I think about how far I’ve come. Twenty-six is shaping up to be both the best and hardest year of my life.