Page 71 of Talon

“He did.”

“And?” she prompts, clearly annoyed with how much I’m dragging this out.

If only she knew the truth. I never wanted to tell her about him, but I have to. It’s the only way she’ll trust me again. If she understands why I’m this way, she’ll get why I kidnapped Hank. It will all make sense after she hears my story.

“Blackstone adopted me when I was seven. This was after they found me behind the quick-mart dumpster looking around for food.”

“After your parents abandoned you?”

“Yes.”

“Go on,” she says. There’s sympathy in her eyes, but also fear—the uncertainty of whether she can trust me is still there. It’s a good question. I ask myself the same thing every day.

“Blackstone is a sadist and a pedophile. He gets off on causing pain, both physical and emotional. When we lived with him, he kept us locked up in his basement.”

“We?”

“Scar, Nitro, Matrix, and Reaper. That’s where we met.” I shudder involuntarily at the memory of that cold, dark hell. The scent of mold and dampness still haunts me to this day.

“How old was everyone else? Were you all kids?”

“Yes. We were around the same age, plus or minus a year or two.”

“What happened in the basement?” she asks softly, uncrossing her arms and coming to sit by my side.

“He controlled every aspect of our lives. What we ate, when we slept … even how long we were allowed to breathe.” My hands clench into fists, feeling the chains that once held me captive.

“Oh, Talon.” Tears fill her eyes until they’re glistening in the late afternoon light.

“Every day was filled with torture, both mental and physical … and other stuff.” I’ll never tell her details about the other things he did to us. Disgusting, perverted, revolting things that still make me feel like I can never get clean.

“Blackstone would beat me until I couldn’t stand, then laugh as he watched me struggle to rise again.” Anger simmers in my belly, but I force myself to keep it contained—for her sake.

Her eyes widen and the first tear spills down her cheek.“That’s awful. How did you survive?”

“Survival wasn’t a choice,” I admit, looking down at my hands.“It was instinct. And eventually … I learned to fight back.”

“Is that how you escaped?” she asks, her voice soft and gentle—an unexpected balm on my frayed nerves.

“No,” I shake my head.“We had to outsmart him. Fighting back wasn’t an option. Each of us developed certain skills. We used them to come up with an escape plan.”

“What kind of skills?”

“Well …” I study the sincerity in her eyes, and for the first time in my life, I feel safe telling someone outside the brotherhood about my powers.“I can talk to animals.”

“Really? How?”

“With my mind.”

“That’s amazing.” She cocks her head while processing this information.“Is that why Loki likes you so much?”

“Yeah. I told him I’m here to protect you. That’s all I’ve wanted to do since we met. I know I haven’t done the best job, and I really fucked up with Hank, but you must believe me when I say I thought I was doing the right thing. I don’t kidnap innocent people. It’s not who I am. Please believe me. Please trust me. I can’t lose you. I care too much about you, especially now. I realize I made a mistake, and for that, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to say. Please, Jess …”

As I wait for her response, my heart skips several beats. I can’t lose her. Not now. Not when I’m so invested in protecting her. I may have ruined what we started last night in the cabin, but I hope to God I can at least regain her trust. If she leaves now, she’ll be all alone in the world, unprotected. It’s my worst nightmare. She needs to believe me. Because if she doesn’t, she’s as good as dead, and I can’t let that happen. Not on my watch.

Chapter 20: Jessica

I lace my fingers through Talon’s and lean against him. I almost can’t believe what he just told me, but I don’t think he’s lying. Who would lie about something like that? And Nina told me that Talon had been through a terrible ordeal with Blackstone. She seems like a shrewd woman. If she believes him, then I do, too. The details of his story are too specific. The more he tells me, the more horrified I get, but I want to hear more. I need to know exactly what he went through so I can better understand him.

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