Page 8 of Penance

“Can I come nearer? I promise I won’t try to move you. I just want to comfort you, can you let me do that?” Kacey asks her and her bottom lip trembles.

Her gorgeous eyes glazing over with unshed tears. With that being enough of an answer, he shuffles on his knees along the worn carpet until he’s before her, she looks down at him and shuts her eyes tightly.

“This isn’t working,” she exhales.

“What isn’t working?” Kacey asks her gently, like he’s trying to tame a beast.

Approach with caution to avoid a venom-filled bite in the process.

“This fucking knife isn’t gunna hold me, Kace, I need more,” she says through gritted teeth, her gaze darting over his head, locking with mine. “I’m going to kill him unless you can keep me in this chair,” she says robotically.

A shiver works its way up my spine and Huxley turns to face me head on, blocking my view of her.

“What did you do?” he seethes, his dark eyes flaming with rage, my mouth opens but no words come out.

I’m overwhelmed, drowning in despair, I’m angry, I’m sad, I’m so fucking confused.

The front door slams open, ricocheting off the wall sending it flying back into the person entering. I snap my head to the right and internally groan. Even though I knew he was coming, Lala asked for him, of course he’d get here. Even so, why has this had to happen today? I’ve been travelling for fucking hours and all I wanted to do was have a drink with my boys then fuck off to bed. Instead, I’m dealing with this.

CharliefuckingSwallow.

Brilliant.

His tall, chiselled frame glides into the room, sweeping through like the grim fucking reaper. Shirtless as is usual for him, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen the guy in a shirt,it’s fucking December. Like a silent assassin he assesses his surroundings. His eyes flying between the other two men in the room, neither of them seems to care he’s here, Kacey actually looksgrateful. Do they know Charlie Swallow? Because even the most feared men on the planet would be wise to cower under his emerald glare, not be fucking happy about his arrival, regardless of the situation.

Charlie’s gaze bypasses me before doing a double take, stopping him in his pursuit to his younger cousin. He tilts his head to one side, narrowing his eyes on me, watching the pulse point in my neck like the apex predator I know him to be. Without shifting his position, as though he’s made of stone. He rolls his eyes over to Lala, taking in the scene before him. Tucking away every detail and drawing his own conclusion. There is no hesitation when he lunges forward, striking like a viper, his iron fist smashing into my stomach. It happens so fast, I never saw it coming; all of the air in my lungs whooshes out of me as I double over, clutching my stomach.

I deserved that.

“You’re fucking lucky that’s all you’re getting,” Charlie whispers gruffly to me as he gives me a harsh tap to the face. “Be very fucking careful,” he warns me lowly, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end at his unmistakable threat.

Charlie Swallow is not someone to fuck with.

I’ll be honest. I’m notscaredof him, but I am cautious. He is averydangerous man and anyone that says otherwise is a fucking moron. He’s a cold, ruthless, calculated killer and if you upset him, you’ll know about it, Charlie doesnothold back, especially when it comes to Lala.

I remember him turning up at our school once. Lala was about thirteen at the time, I was in my last year, smoking by the front gate. He breezed through the gates, straight past me, his sights set very clearly on someone in particular. He stormed through that school building, walking straight into the middle of a religious education lesson, grabbed some little prick by his throat and made him piss himself in front of the whole class. Apparently, he’d said something rather crude about Lala and Charlie wasn’t gunna sit by and let anyone talk about his baby cousin in that way.

That’s the type of man Charlie Swallow is. It only got worse when he was stolen away from his family, subjected to god knows what and returned in an even more twisted way than he left. A man that survives half a year of torture, giving out no informationanddoesn’t wind up dead as a result, should get a world of fucking respect in my opinion. Even if I don’t particularly like him, I respect him.

“Ky,” Charlie greets his cousin in that gruff, damaged voice he has.

Without being instructed to, Kacey automatically slides out of the way, allowing Charlie access.

I carefully straighten to standing, but fuck me, I think he broke a rib, my breaths come in short rasps, but I ignore the pain. I’ve had worse.

“Charl,” Lala grits out. “Everything fucking hurts,” she almost whines.

Her legs jumping, her free hand tapping her thigh, all tics of someone struggling to keep it together.

“Tie me to the chair,” she breathes out.

Charlie swipes his tattooed hand over her hair, cupping her face as she looks up at him. Whatever he sees in her eyes spurs him into action and he silently nods his head. He turns back to face us. Kacey moving back into the space he occupied only moments ago, murmuring pretty words to the broken girl in the chair.

Charlie crosses back towards us. Pointing at me, “you, don’t fucking look at her or I’ll remove your eyeballs from their fucking sockets and gift them to her as earrings. You got it?” he growls, I exhale sharply sending pain hurtling through my side.

“Charlie-” I start but he instantly cuts me off.

“We are not friends. You do not fucking look at her. If she didn’t have some sort of fucked up feelings for you, you’d be a dead man. Regardless of what she says, I still know her better than she knows herself. So, you fuck her up,anymore, any more damage, fromyou, I’ll end you, am I quite fucking clear?” he rasps out. The strength of his voice rapidly declining with every threatening word, the strain on his damaged vocal cords more than obvious.

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