Page 105 of Addicted
“I–I have no choice!” he all but shouts in my face, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on my cheeks. “He’ll know if I don’t, and then he’ll kill us both.” His grip on my hands loosen, his forehead dropping to mine, and a splash of moisture lands on my cheek. “I can’t let him kill you, Lark.”
My own tears spill over then as he sobs, and I want to make Rufus hurt so fucking badly for putting this all on my brother. For giving Rook an impossible decision that no brother should have to make.
“He won’t kill either of us, Rook,” I say gently as his cries quieten, and he pushes up, a pain-filled gasp leaving me as he rolls off me to one side.
“Shit, you’re hurt!” he exclaims, his eyes trailing over my body then his face grimaces. “Umm.” His face reddens as he looks away.
“See, there was no way you could fuck me, you idiot,” I say with a chuckle, grabbing the sheet to cover myself a little. It’s a testament to how fucked up my life has been that I can laugh after they sent in my brother to rape me. Guess we got to get our humor where we can. “And Rufus sent Dean to visit me not long after I arrived.”
Rook’s eyes widen, he knows how fucked up Dean’s tastes are. Everyone does, and it’s the reason he’s never been allowed a shot at me before. A shudder runs through me at the unwanted memories, and I snuggle the blanket around me tighter.
“Fuck.” He swallows hard, his brows dipping as tears fill his eyes.
“Don’t you pity me, Rook. It’s not the worst thing to have ever happened to me at the orders of our sperm donor,” I tell him,looking down, not able to face his sorrow. We need to sort this shit show out first. “Case in point.” I sweep an arm out, glancing back up and indicating the situation we have found ourselves in, and he wrinkles his nose again.
“What the fuck are we going to do, Lark? He’ll check, you know he will,” he sighs, his voice so small and the lost look back in those baby blues of his. I take a deep inhale, only needing a moment to debate with myself about telling him of our plan. He’s my brother, and regardless of the past few minutes, I still trust him completely.
“I have friends who’ve promised to come get us tonight,” I tell him quietly, and his eyes widen once more. “We just have to wait.”
“I’m not sure how long we have, Lark,” he replies while scrubbing a hand over his face, then letting it drop into his lap. “They teased me and said they’d give me maybe twenty minutes before the others started to come in.” His jaw stiffens as his hand clenches into a fist. I reach over and unfurl it, sliding my fingers between his and giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze.
“They’ll be here. I know they will,” I say, my voice only wavering slightly at the end. Looks like hope has made me her bitch after all. “And we’ll figure something out if not.” We both swallow hard at that.
“Have they been treating you okay?” he questions, looking at me from under his dark brows. “The Tailors, I mean?” As I look away from him, I feel the heat in my cheeks. I could never hide a blush. “I’ll take that as a yes then.” He chuckles, and the sound tugs my lips upwards as I glance back at him.
“At first it was tough, but after a while…it wasn’t,” I whisper, unsure how to tell him all that I feel for the guys and they for me. “Aeron promised your safety too.”
His eyebrows raise at that. “Really? Aeron Taylor?”
“Yep. He swore that he'd get you out. It was the only way I could get them here.” My free hand toys with the blanket, and he gives our joined hands a squeeze.
“So, how are they going to get us out?” he quizzes, his brows furrowed. “I mean, they’re trapped in the cages, right?”
“Before we left to come here, I left a note for Adam Taylor, telling him about the coal chute, the booby-trapped door, and the best time to come get his boys.” He whistles, both brows rising into his dark hairline.
“You played them all.” He sounds impressed, his lips pursed, but it just makes me feel sick.
“I didn’t want to,” I breathe, looking at our clenched hands and giving a small smile when he squeezes them.
“They’ll forgive you, Lark,” he assures me, and I look back up at him to find his features soft, a small smile on his lips.
“They already did,” I tell him, fiddling with the sheets between my fingertips that aren’t wrapped around his. It seems to be becoming a habit right now. “I’m getting out of here Rook, and I want you to come with me.”
He swallows visibly at my words, his blue eyes wide, then he frowns.
“Dad says I’m to take over the Soldiers one day. That they’ll be my gang. Then I can do what I want with them, stop all this drug running, prostitution, and all the other shit. There’s so much, Lark. So much fucking pain in these walls, so many innocents suffering.” His grip becomes painful as he speaks, and I finally realize that while he may not have suffered like I have, he’s had his own cross to bear all the same. “I want to make the Soldiers what it should have always been; a family.”
Moisture gathers in my lashes at his words. It’s what we’ve both always craved but never had aside from each other. A genuine family. It’s what I’ve found with the Tailors and mybreath rushes out of me thinking that I so easily could have lost them.
“I’m sure—” My words are cut off as we’re plunged into darkness, my hand a death grip on his. “What the fuck?”
My heart races, my eyes darting around the pitch-black room as if I’ll be able to find what caused the blackout. Unless…
Rook lets go of my hands, then a light pierces the darkness from beside me as he turns on the torch of his phone.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asks, having sat up and swung his legs off the bed. I do the same, reaching into the bedside drawer and pulling out the battery-powered lamp. Having the entire HQ underground means we have these torches in every room, just in case. It was never big enough for me to use as a weapon, but it’s enough for us to see by.
“I think it might be them, the Tailors,” I tell him in a hushed tone and watch as his eyes widen. “Do you have a key for the door?” I don’t remember him locking it behind himself as he walked in.
