50 #4
My eyes narrow to slits, and my hand stills again. “No, it won’t. And I don’t want you going back to him. Stay here. He can’t get in our Bonded chambers.”
Her brows arch. “Aren’t you forgetting he can split my head open at any moment, no matter where?
” She pauses to consider something in that brilliant mind of hers before divulging, “You were right: it is Avri. It is part of his cluster that he used to create a connection between me and him—like how the energy in our identification chips links to all our other Avri. I think he has another microchip created from an Avri pixel in his cluster, some of which is in my eye and skin, and the rest of which I have concluded must be in another chip he has somewhere around his head. I am unable to tell its exact location, and whenever I think about it, he can feel the threat before I have time to do a thorough search. I had once considered drugging him, but although he does not know my exact thoughts, he senses the danger there too.”
I’m glad she’s realised she can’t hide the truth anymore, but the way she’s now talking about this as if it isn’t absolutely disgusting grates on my nerves.
But I know I treated my abuse the same way sometimes.
It’s a coping mechanism. Even if she’s convinced herself to not care, I find it hard to believe that’s how she feels all the time.
“Do not bother yourselves with this.” She waves her hand absently, and my temper rises even more.
The fury isn’t for her but her bastard of a father who’s affected her so badly that she treats this like it’s nothing, as if we shouldn’t care that she’s being fucking tortured on a daily basis. “It is all . . .”
Vengeance goes rigid.
Then she shoots upright, Scotty’s T-shirt falling back down and covering her up. Tate lets out a deep sound of protest that goes ignored.
“What is the time?” Ezla snaps.
“Wait, wait, wait—you’re not doing that again.
” I drop the used towel and gently but firmly grasp her shoulders, Tate moving closer and boxing her in at her back with the same idea as me: keep her here, make her stay.
“Where’ve you got to be, huh? With him? Your father?
” My head dips down, forcing her to catch my gaze.
“I cannot be late for dinner,” she snarls. And yet, despite the tension lining every inch of her body, she doesn’t move, like she’s begging for the opposite when she demands forcefully, “Let me go.”
“I’m not letting you go back to him,” I grit out, grip on her tightening.
“I think we have already established that he can cause me pain from anywhere,” she growls right back.
“But wouldn’t you rather not see him?” Tiger cuts in desperately, enlarged eyes imploring.
“Please stay! We can have dinner together instead! I mean, look at all these muscles! Much better option!” He tries for his usual cheer and jokiness, curling his arms to emphasise his biceps, but the panic painted all over him at the thought of our Bonded going anywhere near the Game Master drowns it out.
“We don’t even need to talk about this more! You don’t have to say anything at all!”
Ezla’s hands ball, and Scotty reaches over to envelope one in his.
“We’ll leave this alone tonight, okay, Love?
Just have dinner with us, and we’ll make no other mentions of your father.
Right?” He looks around, and everyone nods, me much more begrudgingly, knowing there’s so much more HC is hiding in that pretty little head of hers.
“Hm.”
“That was definitely a ‘yes’ hum, right?” Tiger brightens, his usual sunshine peeking through the curtains of his pain for our Bonded.
“Hm.”
“Yeah. That’s a yes, everyone! Off to the dining room we go! I’ll order our food!”
***
Vengeance hasn’t talked, but she stayed, and that was enough.
And she’s still in Scotty’s T-shirt.
With only her underwear on beneath.
Scotty was well chuffed when he watched her fail to keep the pyjama shorts on after she’d attempted to get back into them, only to have them slide down her legs when she stood.
As always, we try to engage with her, but we can read the signals and largely work to include her in the conversations without her needing to speak.
Mostly, I’ve noticed how she’s been watching us.
Back at the feast she’d held for us, she hardly looked at any of us the entire night, even in the hot tub—just the reminder has my cock hardening again where I’d finally managed to get it to go down a fraction, the images that funnel through my mind of our time in that steaming water provoking a heated thrum in my blood—but now, she scrutinises us.
I’m not sure if she knows we can tell, if she’s attempting to be discreet, or if she simply doesn’t give two shits what we think, but she’s examining us, taking in the dynamics of our group, the way we all interact when we’re not training.
Her head cants marginally as she watches the way Tiger tosses a baby carrot at Scotty with a “Catch!”, and it slaps his brother’s face before he can even try to open his mouth, falling onto his plate with a plop.
She seems a little confused, a faint line appearing between her dark brows when Scotty only fights a smile and shakes his head before he stabs the carrot on his fork and brings it to his mouth without bashing his brother’s skull in.
I make a mental note to tell Tiger to never try that with Vengeance unless he wants his head lopped off.
She curiously watches Alby’s reaction on her right while he smiles around his fork at Tiger’s antics, then slowly turns her head to Scotty’s side of the table again, where Tate sits between him and me, eating silently and boring holes into her head with searingly fixated eyes.
He gives her a suggestive grin when their gazes meet, and she narrows her own intense one before moving her inspection onto me.
Her defined jaw tenses when she catches me studying her right back.
With how straight she sits and how neatly she holds her knife and fork, I can tell this behaviour for meals has been drilled into her, and it’s just another reason to hate her father; he’s made her feel like she can’t relax, and she’s clearly never had a regular family dinner before.
It’s no doubt why she speaks the way she does, too; I’ve noticed she uses abbreviations little to never, her words always put together neatly. She could’ve simply mimicked the Game Master’s speech style, but I wouldn’t put my credits on the learning process being so painless.