Chapter 39
Zayne
I grunt in pain as I walk down the stairs, each step I take rattling something inside of me that feels like it's no longer connected the way it's supposed to be.
I have been handed my fair share of ass-whippings in my lifetime, but this may be the worst one yet.
The hospital kept me twelve hours, and if I hadn't insisted on going home, they probably would've kept me longer.
Besides the bumps, bruises, and cuts, my biggest concerns are the aftereffects of the drugs they pumped into my system and the two bruised ribs that make themselves known with every breath.
I never considered myself a vain person until I got home a few hours ago and looked in the mirror.
Swelling has gone down in both eyes, but my left eye took nearly every hit they issued to my face. It still has a way to go before I can see out of it, even a little.
I went through X-rays, a CT scan, blood draws, and I'm sure they did a fast ultrasound in the ER, trying to determine if I had internal bleeding.
I feel like death, but the doctors assured me that I was far from it, except for the drugs.
The memories of it have come back in waves, the drugs doing nothing to wipe them fully from my memory.
Scott, walking into the room, put more fear into me than anything else. I could die from a beating, but the things I knew ran through his head when he wanted to hurt someone is a fear no one should have to face, much less experience.
Thankfully, the sick bastard didn't even mention it, despite every derogatory word he could pull from his bigoted head flying out of his fucking mouth.
The second I clear the bottom step, I'm met with angry eyes.
"You're supposed to be in fucking bed," Zeus growls.
"Can't sleep," I grumble.
"Sleep and rest aren't the same thing," Zeus clarifies.
"I can't rest, either," I argue as I make my way to the couch.
I realize I may have made a huge mistake when I look down and see that the couch looks like it's literally sitting on the floor with the effort it will require to sit on the damn thing.
"You could've stayed upstairs," he says as he places the bowl of soup he came down to get, which he insisted I eat before he left his room.
The guy acts like I was some sort of prisoner of war who had been abused for months, rather than the guy who missed meals for a single day.
"What time is it?" I grumble, an attempt to hide my pain as I drop down to the couch.
I may end up having to fucking live here because getting up by myself will be impossible, and I'll be damned if I'm going to ask for fucking help.
"Seven nineteen. A perfectly respectable time to still be in bed."
"Says the Marine who no doubt sees every single sunrise," I mutter, the soup in the bowl on the table looking more tempting than I know it will feel hitting the cut on my upper lip.
"Haven't seen a sunrise before today in weeks," he says, reminding me that the shitty cabin they had us in had no windows.
"Doesn't mean you weren't up."
"True," he finally agrees, taking a seat on the other sofa across from where I've been sitting.
The man has been very attentive since pulling me from that dungeon on the compound, but not in the way a lover would.
The guilt flowing off of him with every action tells me that he fully blames himself for what happened, and despite the pain I'm in, I bet he would've traded places with me just to not feel how he's feeling now.
"Who's in the conference room?" I ask, wanting to change the subject because the references to me being an invalid are eating away at me.
Pain is pain. We all experience it, but it's a whole lot easier to tell someone that having a moment of weakness is completely normal than being the one on the receiving end of that sympathy.
"New Mexico," he mutters. "They got here twenty minutes ago."
"Is that common?" I ask.
My only direct experience with Cerberus, aside from the training I went through for the job, was the prep for this last mission and now. Kincaid was here both times.
Zeus shakes his head.
He told me a little about what happened at the compound when we got back, even though getting those little pieces of information was like pulling teeth.
Nyx lost his shit to the point that there's little doubt he'll be in Cerberus much longer.
Melody, the waitress from the diner, is actually a badass Robocop who set the raid in motion.
Bobby ate the fucking business end of his handgun before any agent or member of Cerberus could get their hands on him.
They recovered his computer, but a lot of the files had been compromised before they got it.
A lot of the girls were at a processing unit in Knoxville, many refusing to give their real names even after being assured they were safe.
"He said we'll have a meeting later to debrief," Zeus says. "I doubt he expects you to be there."
"And why the fuck would I miss it?" I growl, lifting a hand to press to my ribs as I groan in pain.
He waves his hand in front of him, moving it up and down to indicate my body.
"My ears still fucking work," I snap, my anger only coming out in my voice rather than body movements because, if anything, I'm a quick fucking learner.
"Why cause yourself extra pain?" he argues back. "There's no fucking point in it."
"I didn't spend the last three weeks of my life in that shithole to stay upstairs and take a nap while everyone else is debriefed."
I don't even bother to start the argument once again about how I ended up in his room. I presume it was because no one wanted me to be the only one in the other house, as if more than just Zeus thinks I'm going to fucking die if someone doesn't have eyes on me.
The only reason I didn't argue that point at the time is that the vehicle transporting me back here was parked outside of this house, and the walk to the other house seemed a million miles away.
I really thought I could go to bed and sleep for a couple of days, but the pain radiating from every inch of my body makes it too damn hard to get comfortable in any position.
The walk over to the other house seems just as daunting now as it did early this morning, or maybe I've somehow subconsciously convinced myself that being in Zeus's room is where I really want to be.
"Fuck me," I wince when I sense motion on the other side of the room.
The pain it causes to simply try to look over my shoulder makes me wonder if the doctors missed something during their many examinations.
I catch Nyx walking by, his eyes filled with rage.
He only pauses at the conference room door long enough to turn the handle before going inside.
"Oh shit," Zeus mutters, his eyes locked in the same direction as mine. "That can't be good."
The man doesn't even bother to close the door all the way behind him, which just reinforces the fact that Nyx doesn't give a fuck about anything, certainly not what others may think of him.
I don't know if New Mexico is here because of the raid on the compound or if they're here to sever ties with Nyx after how he acted.
Conversation is hushed, neither Zeus nor I talking.
It's never easy to bear witness to someone on your team getting their asses ripped, but neither of us moves to leave the room. Curiosity keeps us locked in place.
Despite feeling like a snoop, I crane my neck as best as I can to hear better, but I don't think that the partially open door would filter much of what comes next.
"You're not fucking listening," Kincaid roars. "You can't pull that shit."
I'm unable to hear Nyx's response, but it's surprising that, given how angry the man seems to be, he doesn't raise his voice back. I doubt it's respect for the club's highest leader that keeps him cool and calm. It's just further proof that he couldn't care less about what others think of him.
"You could've just left him to fucking die then," Kincaid snaps, pausing a second before speaking again. "Humane? There isn't a single fucking thing on this earth that makes me think you give a flying fuck about humanity when it comes to men like him."
Another hushed answer from Nyx, and if I weren't hurting so badly, I might risk the chance of getting caught eavesdropping by walking closer so I could hear both sides of the conversation.
"Then explain the shit that went down at the compound," Kincaid demands, his anger growing with every word he speaks.
"Jesus, talk louder," Zeus mutters, making me smile.
He's just as invested in what's going on as I am. It makes me feel less nosy.
"Do you have any idea the amount of fucking paperwork involved when you pull the shit you pulled yesterday?" Kincaid snaps. "Not your fucking job?"
His voice is a growl, and I commend the man for not having put his hands on the insolent motherfucker yet. I highly doubt Kincaid is the least bit intimidated by Nyx. It shows just how much patience and control the man actually has.
"Like I said on the fucking phone," Kincaid snaps, his voice more controlled, albeit less loud. "You have a fucking decision to make, but you're done here."
I can't turn around fast enough to avoid being caught.
Nyx glares at us as he leaves the conference room, but it doesn't stop his feet from carrying him out.
"Looks like we're a man down," Zeus mutters when I manage to turn back in his direction.
"Give us a minute," Kincaid says, startling me.
"I'll warm this soup back up," Zeus says, scrambling to pick up the bowl and leave the room as if he's afraid his head will be on the chopping block next.
Kincaid comes around the end of the couch I'm sitting on. Instead of sitting on the sofa Zeus just left, he takes a seat beside me.
"You had a really fucking rough introduction to Cerberus with this one, huh?" he asks, not a hint of the anger I just heard coming from him in the conference room.
"I've had other assignments that went better," I answer.
He gives me a soft smile, but the apathy on his face makes him no less intimidating.
"I have these," he says, holding up a couple of pamphlets.
I attempt to hide my wince when I reach for them.