Chapter 30
Thirty
Daphne
Iopened my eyes in the Fawn Quarters and hated everything around me.
Everything was white.
White walls. White sheets. White furniture.
Like whoever had been in charge of decor’s favorite color was cocaine.
Thank God Blair and my mom had also warned me about this place. Otherwise, waking up here after last night would’ve sent me straight into another spiral.
I shifted my arm and winced when the IV tugged at my skin.
Blair had warned me about the post-Initiation fluids.
I stared suspiciously at the clear bag hanging beside my bed.
Electrolytes, according to Blair.
But I didn’t trust the Sons.
Is that what’s really in here?
The door opened before I could decide whether to rip the IV out.
Brooks walked in carrying a pizza box, and I immediately glared at him.
He looked like shit.
Good.
He wore his Saint Vale uniform, but he looked far from polished with the bruises on his face.
My stomach growled at the smell of the pizza. The red logo on the box belonged to Ed’s Pizzeria.
My favorite.
They didn’t deliver to Saint Vale. Which meant he’d driven forty-five minutes each way to buy me pizza after spending an entire night terrorizing me.
Again, psychopath behavior.
Thoughtful psychopath behavior, but still.
Brooks kicked the door shut behind him and set the pizza box down.
“Wipe that ugly look off your face,” he demanded.
My scowl deepened, and I struggled to cross my arms around the IV.
“Take this out.” I nodded toward it.
He shook his head. “You need the electrolytes.”
“Get me a Gatorade then. Blue Glacier, please.” I pointed at the pizza box. “And hand me a slice too. I need to get my strength back after you crazies pumped God knows what into me. You don’t get to decide what goes in my body.”
His mouth kicked up at one corner. “I’m the only one who decides what goes in your body.”
I snorted.
He crossed the room and planted one knee on the mattress beside my thigh. His other leg stayed on the floor as he leaned over me, caging me in against the pillows.
“Better yet, I’m the only thing that goes into your body.”
“Unless your name is pizza, Dr Pepper, or tampons, wrong.” I motioned between my legs. “This is a closed-to-crazies area.”
Brooks looked between my legs before slowly dragging his stare back to my face. “You survived Initiation, but don’t mistake that for power.” His tone hardened. “You don’t make a single fucking rule here, Daphne.”
I pouted. “That sure doesn’t seem fair. You put me through hell. The least I deserve is some free will to decide what’s right for me.”
“Like I told you before, life isn’t fair. The world isn’t fair.”
“I hate that saying because it could be fair, if not for power-hungry bastards.”
“The world will always be run by power-hungry bastards. It’s best you understand that now and learn how to survive them.”
I lifted my bandaged hand between us. “I have a battle wound. Doesn’t that earn me something?”
“You’ll get plenty of somethings.” His expression turned filthy.
I shook my head. “If it doesn’t come in the form of food, currency, or freedom, then I’m not interested.”
“You, of all people, know there are rules here.”
“Rules I’ll regularly be breaking.” I scooted higher against the headboard, trying to get comfortable with this stupid IV. My stomach let out an embarrassing growl. “Pizza me, please.”
Brooks shook his head, looking more entertained than annoyed, and stood.
Finally some personal space.
He flipped open the pizza box. “Only because you used manners for once.”
Hot mozzarella and buffalo sauce filled the sterile room.
He pulled a stack of napkins from his pocket and tore off a slice.
I licked my lips before sniffing. “Is that buffalo chicken?”
He nodded.
Damn him. He remembered my favorite.
“Did you get ranch?”
Without a word, he pulled a ranch cup from his pocket and sat beside my hip, close enough that his thigh pressed against mine.
I pretended not to care.
The second I reached for the slice, he jerked it away, clicked his tongue, and held it out for me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Feeding you.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“You need to conserve your energy.”
“For what?”
“None of your business.”
“That doesn’t exactly make me want to cooperate. And actually, new plan.” I raised my fist. “Your Fawn is officially on a hunger strike.” I dropped my arm. “I’ve had enough of your surprises to last me a lifetime.”
“Start that strike tomorrow. Now, eat your pizza before it gets cold.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why do you care if I eat?”
“Because you’re my Fawn.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It means everything.”
“All I’ve gotten is misery so far … and a ruined laptop that better be replaced.”
“Sure. But I’ll also give you the highest moments of your life. After this ends, you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing that feeling with other men … and you’ll never find it.”
I blinked at the arrogance sitting beside me. “A little cocky, aren’t we?”
“Who’s not to say I won’t spend the rest of my life chasing the Daphne high?”
I was staring at the old Brooks I knew.
Not the one who chased me through the woods with a fucking chainsaw.
The one who’d once had me convinced there could be an us.
For once, I had nothing smart to say.
I opened my mouth instead. He dipped the pizza into the ranch and slid the bite between my lips. I quietly moaned as buffalo sauce, cheese, and ranch hit my tongue. My stomach applauded.
He fed me another bite, stealing one for himself before bringing the slice back to my mouth. We continued like that in silence.
Me taking a bite. Brooks taking one. Me pretending this wasn’t weirdly intimate.
“You know,” I said as he reached for a second slice, “I could get used to this princess treatment.” I pointed at him. “Which reminds me, you owe me a tiara.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
“You know that’s a bad omen, right? Stealing a Caliran crown or tiara.”
“I had no idea.” He settled back on the bed. “Educate me.”
I straightened like I was about to give him a history lesson. “Caliran lore says anyone who steals from the royal family suffers great losses. The gods take their third-born child.”
He didn’t even blink. “Then I’ll only have two.”
“You’ll go bald early.”
He froze with the pizza halfway to his mouth.
I grinned.
“Now, you’re just making shit up.”
“I’m serious. They say it steals the three things Calirans treasure most. Their children, their vanity …”
Brooks chewed slowly, watching me. “And the third?”
“The ability to find someone who loves them.”
“Good thing I don’t want that either.”
“You may lie well in public, Brooks, but you don’t with me.”
“You think you know me better than you do, Fawn.”
“We’ll see …” I held his stare.
We knew each other too well.
Not every memory. Not every secret. But enough.
He knew what hurt me. I knew what pissed him off.
He knew how to make me smile when I didn’t want to.
And I knew when he was full of shit.
I finished my bite and swept my hair away from my face, then froze.
Wait a damn minute.
It’s clean.
I grabbed a handful and brought the ends to my nose.
My shampoo.
I slowly lowered my hand. “How did I get clean?”
Brooks didn’t answer. Only plucked a piece of chicken from the pizza and popped it into his mouth.
“Brooks,” I said in my best warning voice. “Who cleaned me?”
“Me.”
I threw a punch at him, and the IV nearly ripped from my arm.
He leaned away, dodging it, like he’d expected it.
“I thought I made myself clear when I beat Sinclair with a bat.” His stare never left mine. “No one puts their hands on you but me. Not to hurt you. Not to comfort you. Not to clean you. And for damn sure, not to pleasure you.”
He caught a strand of my hair and wound it around his finger. “If they do, that just cost them their life.”