Page 52 of Fear the Reapers
She may have walked into our world willingly, but we were the sick fucks that welcomed her with open arms. We were the ones who thought her presence wouldn’t affect us. That all she’d be was a token of our power.
But Stevie was so much more than that. She didn’t seem fazed by the blood on our hands. She had seen the damage we could cause, had been exposed to the lifestyle and attention we garnered, and she still wasn’t intimidated. She was one of us. Even if we didn’t want to admit it. Even if she couldn’t admit it to herself.
“Just be grateful Dr. Roswell let us keep her here for now.” Atlas said, turning to face us. “He wants us to bring her by his office next week for a follow up.”
Dr. Roswell was on our payroll. The old man knew what kind of businesses we ran and had stitched us up more times than I could remember. His discretion was something we could rely on. But above anything else, Dr. Roswell was a good man who took his code of ethics seriously. If he found out we were holding Stevie against her will, he would flip his fucking lid.
“So, things have to change.” I said, holding her frail hand in mine.
“Indeed, they do.” Atlas sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Indeed, they do.”
Chapter 31
Stevie
I awoke to four sets of eyes staring at me. Stoic expressions painted each of their faces as they watched my eyes slowly flutter open.
I glanced around, trying to get my bearings. We were in my room and aside from the four massive men and the shattered door, everything was as I left it.
“What happened?” I asked, wincing at the dryness in my throat.
“Your reluctance to eat is what happened.” Atlas chastised, handing me a glass of water.
I took a small sip and averted my eyes, feeling the weight of each of their gazes. I felt guilty, but I couldn’t understand why. They were the ones who drove me into madness. If anyone should feel bad, it’s them.
“How long have I been out?” I asked, watching as my hand swirled the water in my glass.
Ezra sighed, brushing his tattooed fingers against mine. It was a small comforting gesture, but it made me feel less alone.
“A few days, Angel.” He said, pressing his lips to my knuckles.
My eyes flashed up at that news. Days. That combined with the time I’d spent locked away meant that it had been over three weeks since I last spoke with Alex. Three weeks since I knew she was safe.
“How did you guys find out?”
They forbid the guards from ever entering my room. The only interaction I had with the guards was when they knocked on my door to offer me food and when I’d knock back whenever I needed a restroom trip. As part of my protest, I limited my trips to the restroom to twice a day, which meant that the guards wouldn’t have thought anything was amis until at least the next afternoon. How long had I been laying there alone?
“Tris spotted you.” Cyrus responded cooly.
“What do you mean, he spotted me?” I asked, piercing my eyes at Tristan.
“We have cameras.” Tristan mumbled as he crossed his powerful arms and tilted his chin up.
“Cameras.” I scoffed, shaking my head with disdain.
Of course they had fucking cameras. So Tristan’s been watching me. While I’ve been literally dying for some form of human interaction, Tris had been getting his fucking kicks from spying on me.
“Well, I hope you got your fucking money's worth.” I hissed.
“Relax, Princess.” Cyrus insisted, moving to stand next to his twin. “We outfitted the entire house with a security system before we knew you existed. It was an omission. Not a lie.”
The anger brewing underneath my skin dissipated. Cyrus was right. It wasn’t as if he installed the camera specifically for me, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make me a little happy to know that Tristan missed me as much as I missed all of them. It made the feelings I had developed for them in such a short amount of time seem a little less crazy.
“Anyway,” Atlas spoke up, taking a seat at the foot of my bed, “it seems we’re at an impasse. The four of us would like to keep you alive, but you seem hell bent on doing everything you can to get yourself killed.”
I wanted to smile at his admission. They still wanted me alive. Despite all the trouble I had caused and all the bullshit I pulled, they still wanted me in their lives.
“Well, what do you suggest?” I asked, fighting the smile that threatened to surface.
