38
EZLA
Whipping around, my Avri dagger presses to Cooper’s throat as I pin him to the wall of the largest dining room in the penthouse.
“I knew you would not obey me,” I hiss.
Hands up by his head, the backs of them to the glossy onyx taalk, the line of Cooper’s jaw becomes rigid. “I can’t leave you alone in here, Vengeance,” he grinds out.
In this moment, I find I am the closest to wanting to truly harm him since Game 1, and my fist clenches bruisingly around my armoury stick. “Did you not understand me when I said we do not have the time? I am trying to prevent anything from happening to you!”
His eyes soften a fraction, and I feel his love for me like an ever-present beacon through the bond.
“And that means everything to me, Ezla. You can feel that.” He pauses, visibly firming again.
“Which means you can also feel my need to keep you safe and my bloody fear, my terror, at the idea of something else happening to you at the hands of that piece of shit.”
“I have told you he is not here—”
“Well his memory damn well is,” he retorts, nostrils flaring. Swallowing, he then closes his eyes and exhales steadily, evidently trying to keep his temper under control.
I do not cut him, but I press the curved blade of my dagger into his skin just a little to ensure he feels the bite, because a part of me does not like how he no longer sees me as a threat, despite by new and still-developing feelings.
His lids ping back open, but he still does not feel an ounce of fear. “Just let me look for the tablets with you. The others have split up—we’re still lowering the time a fair amount, HC. I just . . . I need to stay with you. Let me be here for you. I know how trauma works, Ezla.”
Fury surges up in the form of a wildfire. “I will destroy every atom of everyone who has ever watched on whilst you were obviously being beat—”
“Vengeance.” He speaks with a half-smile, his features softened again. “As much as I appreciate your need to avenge me, that was in my past. That chapter of my life is over—yours isn’t.” Then, once more, he firms. “So don’t tell me to leave when I can be here for you in a way no one was for me.”
A low growl emanates from me.
“I’m not fucking leaving. You’ll have to make me, and that will take time. Time we don’t have, remember?”
My next hiss has him fucking internally smug. “I hate you,” I spit as I spin on my heel and march over to the table.
“Love you too, HC.”
Something within me flutters, and I mentally curse him in every way possible.
Following me with a quiet chuckle, he sobers in the next moment as he asks, “Do you really think they could be in here?”
Glancing over my shoulder to see him scanning the minimalistic room, nothing but the long dining table in the middle and the four walls enclosing us, I reply, “I think they could be anywhere—they may not be here at all. The fact that your Avri clusters have darkened does not tell me anything when I am positive Joseph would up your Scores accordingly as I have previously stated, but I believe he would think the penthouse to be a much better hiding place than the Avri labs, even if he has people working on them. The labs are too obvious.”
“You think he brings workers here?”
“Possibly.” Lips tightening, I kick the chair before me a tad more harshly than intended, and it shrieks as its solid weight skids across the hard floor.
Concern radiates from Cooper. “Are you okay?”
I huff, the frustration within me bubbling closer to the surface. “Stop asking me questions I do not know the answers to,” I snap as I crouch down to look at the underside of the table. “I do not like it when I do not have them. Father has not played such petty hide-and-seek games before.”
Pulling out a chair of his own much more calmly than I did, Cooper follows my lead. “Do you—”
Snarling, I yank myself backwards, rising to my feet. “They are not under there.” Marching my way around the table, I then proceed to check each chair. Cooper is quieter now as he again copies me, but I can feel his attention digging into me. “Focus on searching,” I bark.
Sighing, he shockingly obeys without argument, which is very smart of him, as I am finding it increasingly difficult not to tear everything inside here to shreds, and the only things I am able to do so with are the padding on the plush dining chairs and him.
Then again, with the bond I am now not even thinking about closing off the majority of the time, he likely can hear and feel all of that and is simply choosing his life over a thrilling verbal sparring match with me.
When I am done with that, I toss the most recently useless chair back into place carelessly before storming for the exit.
“Where were you supposed to be searching?” I demand without looking back to see if Cooper is following.
I can hear and feel him, and even if I could not, I know he will be tailing me always.
“The library,” he murmurs back as he nears.
Whirling to the left when I am out of the dining room, I head in that direction.
But I freeze at once, Cooper almost smacking into my back with a curse when I hear faintly, “Scotty! S-scotty, come quick! I found s-some-thing!” Hordes of nausea and pain and horror simultaneously flood the bond.
Puppy, I snap, cataclysmic rage rising to the forefront as I spin around and shove Cooper out of my way. He grunts and hisses my name as he rushes to keep up with my long strides as I head in the direction the distant cry came from. Speak to me. Why have you only called for your brother?
He does not answer, and panic and wrath almost have my knees buckling, the feelings are so potent.
Tiger! Scotty! Tell me what is—
They have blocked me out.
They have managed to block me out.
Now frozen in place, I simply cannot believe the audacity, the .
. . the pain that comes with their actions.
Lips parted, I can only blink for a moment.
I am vibrating with the force of my rage, feel physically ill with the amount of hurt within me that I attempt to shove back but cannot.
But beneath all of that, my own reaction has me realising just how much it must pain my Bonds when I do the same to them.
I was already aware, but experiencing it myself is very different.
Moreover, it has me realising seconds too late that something is very, very wrong.
Blinking at the sensation of my head being shaken, Cooper comes into focus before me. Alarm is etched into every crevice of his handsome face until he registers my return. “Fuck,” he breathes shakily. “There you are. Are you okay? I felt Tiger’s feelings for a moment before they all shut off—”
Heart pounding painfully, I step around him in an instant. “We must go. Where was Tiger headed?”
“The cinema.”
Breaking into a sprint, I hear more footsteps echoing ahead as well as Cooper’s own pounding ones from behind. “What the fuck is going on, HC?!”
That is another fucking question I do not know the answer to, and I am this close to absolutely losing my shit.
Ignoring him, I keep running full speed towards the home theatre.
“Vengeance, wait!”
I do not, and I pass through the woody-black-pepper-smelling halls to reach my destination in record time.
Except, when I reach the cinema, Tate is blocking the entrance.
Burly arms crossed over his chest, he seems to fill the entire doorway. And he has shut me out, too, though he is finding it harder to do so, snippets of his roaring anger coming through the bond, too overpowering to be held back completely.
My beast most certainly would not block me out—he would never dare to even think to. And yet he has. He is.
Whatever is in that room must be even worse than I had originally thought.
“Tate, what the fuck, man?” Cooper demands, words only slightly breathy from the run with all his training. “Why are you . . .”
When he trails off, I whip my head around to face him just as I stop before Tate.
His complexion has paled too many shades in just under a second, and his features have slackened. He is looking over Tate’s shoulder, and I snap my neck back my beast’s way, intending to get a glimpse even if I have to knock two of my men out, when Cooper jumps back into motion—and onto me.
He tackles me to the floor, and wrath takes over everything else.
“Don’t touch her!” Tate bellows at once, and as Cooper and I roll across the taalk, each of us trying to get on top of the other, I note him storming over, forgetting to guard the door.
My eyes snap upwards, trying to see what the fuck has caused my men to act so foolishly, but this angle does me no good.
And I can hear faint noise in the background, as if a film is playing on the big screen, but with all the other sounds, the blood rushing in my ears, Cooper and Tate shouting at each other, I cannot make it out.
Hissing, I am in perfect control of my mind and body for our fight this time, and my elbow slams into Cooper’s neck while my other arm dodges all his attempts to stop me as I snatch up my armoury stick—
Tate crashes into him, and they spin away in a tangle of limbs.
Shooting to my feet, I race for the open doorway.
Scotty’s panicked blue gaze greets me first as I enter the cinema. He is halfway to me, hands out to stop me, but it is too late as my eyes snap to the right to find the large screen at the front of the room, directly opposite me.
I freeze in place, every bone going cold.
It is the kind of cold that numbs you. The kind that is so icy, it strips you of any and all feeling. The kind that could only find me in this one instance, where a video of Joseph and I in bed has been put on display for all who walk in here to see.
I can only stare at the high-quality footage as he moves inside of me, ears ringing to muffle his low grunts and groans.
I do not remember this, but then, I would not—I was unconscious when he took me that day. Sometimes, I had a bit too much fight in me, and Joseph would knock me out to take what he wanted.
Secure arms wrap around me, a strong hand cupping the back of my neck and pressing my face into a solid chest. A clean and fresh smell envelopes me as Scotty murmurs, “Don’t look, Love.
” His grip is gentle but firm and unrelenting, and I know he will not let me go, that he would not even if I could bring myself to fight him off.
Like the rest of my stone-still body, my lips lack any feeling, my mind any thought but one:
I did not know he recorded us.
Scotty makes a pained sound in his throat, and I know he heard that. I can feel him through the bond, all his crushing emotions that he can no longer keep from me, the only thing to break up that numbness within me.
“Turn that fucking shit off!” I vaguely hear Cooper roar, his voice passing by me as he storms into the room.
“I-I’m trying!” That is Tiger’s distant sob.
“Try harder!” Tate’s thunderous shout is not far behind Cooper’s in location. “Did you fucking turn this on?! TURN IT OFF!”
“I—I’m so-rry! I didn’t m-mean to! I was ju-st checking everything!” Tiger cries again.
Beneath my cheek, the warm surface vibrates as Scotty speaks. “It’s okay, Tiger. You didn’t know. Alby, keep looking for how to turn it off with him. Cooper and Tate, calm the fuck down. You’re not helping anything.”
“Calm the fuck down?! There is a video of our Bonded being raped on the fucking screen!” Cooper explodes even more violently than before.
While I stand here uselessly without a single twitch of my muscles, Scotty shifts his hand from the back of my neck to my ear, his arm wrapped around my head, cradling it protectively, his bicep pressed to my other ear.
He is doing it to try to maintain the most soothing environment possible for me, but I still hear his returning shout as he loses his composure, his voice cracking halfway through: “I know, Cooper! I fucking know! So focus on getting it off instead of carelessly throwing your anger around when we’ve already got enough to deal with! You too, Tate!”
Through the cacophony, another thought manages to form.
How did I not know that he recorded us?
Then another and another as self-hatred creeps up on me.
How many recordings does he have? How could I have been so clueless? How could I have not even considered the fact that Joseph may have secretly recorded the times he forced himself on me when I am now aware of the hidden cameras? Why did he record them?
The last one lingers the longest, but it is not too difficult to figure out the reasoning: He would not want to share this with anyone, not even for blackmail to control me in any way.
He would never share what he believes to be his.
And that leaves only the knowledge that he has kept these videos of me to watch for his sick enjoyment.
It is clear to me that he has been watching them in this very room, maybe even today, likely pleasuring himself as he did.
Suddenly, as if he is right here, his scent overwhelms me. Bile crawls up my oesophagus, but I will not let it out. Tears prick at my eyes, but I squeeze them shut. A scream builds up in my throat, but I stuff it back down.
I am abruptly dragged forwards as Scotty rushes backwards. Alby’s terrified cry rings out at the same moment, and I drag my eyes back open, my senses returning enough with the dramatic increase in horror and disgust to have me honing my focus back in on my men.
Through my blurry vision, hazy ears, and weakened limbs, I manage to push myself back from my sensible one. His grip loosens as if he believes he now needs it to, as if he needs me free for what is to come, and the back of my neck prickles far too late.
I had been so out of it . . . so lost in the disbelief, my own horror .
. . that I did not realise how much time had passed.
My awareness had been so dampened that I failed to notice his presence the moment he entered the penthouse as I otherwise would have.
I had failed to notice the fact that his scent was not simply stronger in here because he had spent the most time in this room recently .
. . but because Joseph and his newly appointed group of Exots are standing right behind me.