Page 24 of Snapped
Chapter 14 | Finally, the Truth
August sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. Lord, but his heart was pounding, blood boiling. Cillian had latched on to his grief and fueled the fire with promises of retribution and revenge. For the past hour or more, he’d sat quietly and listened as Hector shared every detail of what actually happened that day in the clearing. How Gorilla Man—Cillian, had been called to the clearing by Autumn with the promise of royal blood and body, his for the taking. They’d only learned after the fact that Cillian intended to take Aiya but had taken Kaden instead once he’d learned exactly who Kaden was.
Named tattoos, Hector called them—it was how Cillian knew exactly who Kaden was. Inked on each man’s arm as a permanent reminder they belonged to someone, they were loved that much. August wanted someone to love him that much. Hector cleared his throat, successfully jerking him back from his meanderings of happiness. “He was chained up in a basement, beaten, starved and basically tortured by Cillian for weeks before Aiyan and the others found him. But not before Cillian tried to drown him.”
“Jesus,” August muttered.
Hector’s eyes held a note of sadness when he spoke again. “I was not here to witness their grief, but I’ve been told it’s something that still clings to both of them, Aiyan and Kaden.”
“I’m going to die down here, aren’t I?” August said it more as a statement than a question. There was no way in hell anyone would be able to stop the man with the odd brown eyes, rimmed in gold and hatred, from slitting August’s throat as well.
“We don’t know that, August.” Hector leaned toward him, tentatively patting August on the leg. Shivering, August didn’t realize he was chilled to the bone until he felt the warmth from Hector’s hand. Lifting his head, he locked eyes with Hector, and August immediately felt a rush of emotions he’d never experienced before.
His parents would share the story of how they met every year on their anniversary, his father remembering the exact moment as if it were yesterday and how he just knew his mother was the one, felt it deep down inside. “All it took was one look, a simple touch, and I felt more alive in that moment than ever before.” His father would take his mother’s hand and smile at her as he told the story, relived the memory for their children.
Right now, looking into Hector’s kind eyes, his hand resting comfortably on August’s leg, he felt very much alive. And judging by the intensity in Hector’s eyes as he stared back at him, the feeling was mutual. Blinking, Hector pulled away and sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. For some reason August couldn’t fathom to understand, he missed the warmth of Hector’s hand. Wanted…no…neededthe warmth back.
“So, what was your grand plan, August? Why did you go after one of the people that your sister and Cillian had already bestowed enough pain and anguish on?” Hector continued to watch him, patiently waiting for an answer.
“I didn’t…I wasn’t…Maeve wasn’t my target. Aiya was.” He finally managed to get the words out.
A myriad of emotions played out on Hector’s handsome face. Confusion gave way to clarity, which quickly became anger, followed by pity. This close to him, August could see now the man’s eyes were hazel with flecks of green and gold littering the iris. Hector was gorgeous, and August was definitely attracted. On top of everything else that’d happened in the past few hours, the beautiful man that was perched in a chair between August and the door had August entertaining thoughts of bending him over the bed and fucking him senseless.
“I…he…” August rubbed the back of his neck, agitated and unsure. “… he killed my twin and left her body lying in the clearing in a pool of blood. My intention was to do the same to him. To cause him the same pain I live with—every damn dayshe’s gone.” The words left August in a rush. Almost immediately, he felt lighter having just said them, as if a weight were lifted off his shoulders. Head bowed, he sighed, fighting back the rush of tears threatening to break free. He refused to break down in front of this man.
“August, will you look at me? Please,” Hector begged. He expected to see the same look of pity in Hector’s gaze but instead, he found sorrow and understanding. “I’m so very sorry about what happened to your sister.” August had to look away, unable to stop a few stray tears from falling. His sister had been dead a year and this man, this virtual stranger that had August tied up in knots, bound by thick ropes of regret, uncertainty, and arousal was the first person to ever say those words to him. Of course, people in their encampment had said similar words of sorrow to his parents over the loss of their child. But Hector was the first person to recognize the bone-deep pain August carried every day over the loss of his twin.
He thought he might climb out of his own skin right then until he felt the now-familiar warmth of Hector’s hand on his leg again. Hector sighed. “Well, I’m hungry, how ’bout you?”
August couldn’t help it; the abrupt change from baring his soul until he was raw to being asked if he was hungry in a manner of seconds made him laugh. Shaking his head, he angrily wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt before answering Hector’s question. “I could eat.”
Hector stood as the door to the room flew open and a tall, slender man with black disheveled hair blew into the room. He resembled Cillian just a bit—same blue eyes, though Cillian’s were always dark and almost lifeless.
“Where is he? Where’s my husband?” The man’s booming, Scottish voice did not fit his frame, but it caused the hair on the back of August’s neck to stand on end nonetheless. He’d only seen Cirian and Rian from a distance or in pictures and paintings, never up close. Up close and personal, the man was a bit frightening.
He made a beeline toward August, stopping short when Hector stepped in his path. “Cirian, hang—”
“Get yer arse out of my fecking way, Hector.” Cirian never took his eyes off August. His icy blue eyes reached out with invisible fingers, wrapping around August’s neck and slowly strangling him.
“Hector, we can’t find Rian, and that red-headed demon over there is the only person left here with a pulse who might be able to point us in the right direction. I suggest you move.” The big blond man that was all attitude and ink spoke. He was standing in the doorway, nonchalantly leaning against the frame.
August was turning different scenarios over in his head so it took the words Tanis spoke a few moments to sink in.“The only person left here with a pulse.” Holy shit.And then Cirian was on him. He grabbed August by the shirt, lifting him easily and slamming him into the wall with so much force it caused his teeth to rattle.
“Now, ya listen to me ya little bugger. You’re gonna tell me where my Rian is or I’m going to tear you apart, one limb at a time, and I’ll make sure Raven is there to keep yer sorry arse alive while I do it.” The blue of Cirian’s eyes slowly ebbed away, a bright silver lining the black orbs of anger.
August didn’t answer in a timely manner, as his captor obviously expected, so he was rewarded with a hard slamming of his skull into the wall behind him. He saw stars and felt nauseated. “Do not test me, boyo; trust me when I say I can and will kill you where you stand.” August almost laughed out loud since technically, only his toes were touching the ground right then. Cirian was no longer shouting at him; in fact, the man looked to be downright calm. Completely mental, but calm.
Just when August felt certain he was about to be murdered by the crazy Scottish man, Cirian released his grip, and he fell to the floor in a heap. “You’ve got ten minutes to get him to tell us where Rian is, Hector. Ten minutes, then I’m going take him outside and drop him off a cliff.”
Hector groaned. “Cirian…”
“Nine minutes and fifty-five seconds!” The man was halfway down the hall, and yet his voice still bounced loudly off every wall in the room.
“This…” August coughed, trying to force air back into his lungs. “…my fault.”
Bending down and wrapping his arms under August’s, Hector used strength his frame shouldn’t possess to pull August up. Standing on wobbly legs, their faces mere inches apart, only the fear of that crazy Scottish man coming back and breaking both his arms and legs then using the limp limbs to beat him over the head, kept August from moving those few inches and capturing Hector’s lips in a kiss he’d wanted since he first laid eyes on him in the garden.
Hector sighed, stepping away and turning his back to August. “Still hungry?” August could only nod, his throat still raw from where Cirian had his hand wrapped around it, realizing Hector wouldn’t hear him. He managed to croak out a faint yes. “Follow me then.”
He hesitated for a moment before pushing off the wall and following Hector. Four guards fell in line behind him, as if he had the strength or energy left to attempt an escape or a murder. He was so done. As far as August was concerned, the lot of them could put him down; he’d failed his sister, failed to do the one thing he’d promised the day he lowered her body into the ground.
