Page 96 of Brutal Knight

“You shouldn’t be up,” he says, agitated. “Please, get back in bed. Whatever it is—“

I ignore him, and I realize my brothers haven’t moved. They haven’t tried to stop me. They’re all just standing in the room, watching.

I know their answers, but I ask anyway.

“So, are you coming with me, or not?”

CHAPTER36

Willow

I don’t dream, but the time I spend in darkness is uneasy and tainted with fear. It’s not the perfect sleep I have with Connor, when it’s just the two of us after a long day. There’s something lurking in the deep as I’m unconscious.

And then I wake up, and everything gets worse.

I can feel that I’m bound almost immediately. There’s something tied around my wrists and ankles, wound so tight that I can feel my pulse in those places.

I start to strain against the ties. I don’t care if it seems impossible. I won’t give in easily. I’m not hopeless anymore.

Connor.

I know he’s somewhere. I don’t want to think he’s dead. I can’t imagine it. His brothers were nearby. They must have found him.

So, he has to be alive. And if he’s alive, then I have to live too. I have to get back to him.

I start to look around for the first time. The walls around me look like poured concrete, gray-brown and brutal. There are pillars too, dotting the wide, flat space. The lights overhead are blinding, but they’re so far up they barely illuminate the floor.

I don’t recognize the place, but I know the look. It’s a warehouse, I think. The floor is cold and there’s no heat in the place. The longer I sit, the more I can feel the cold in my bones. I’m not sure how long I’ve been in here.

My head aches, a throbbing pain resting over my left eye. I wish I could touch it and see if there’s blood, find out if I have a concussion. But I’m tied to a chair, and there’s nothing to check my reflection with.

The chair I’m tied to has metal legs, so any thought of breaking it leaves my mind. The only thing I’m left with is to keep pulling at my wrists and hope the ties break.

I slowly become aware of my father like a shadow in the corner taking form, shapes assembling themselves into his body.

A cold chill runs through me. How long has he been there? Was he watching me?

But his back is toward me and he’s standing by a pillar, phone in hand. I bite my lip as I watch him slip the phone into his pocket and turn around.

When his face comes into view, my stomach drops at the anger that contorts his features. It sends a spike of fear through me, piercing my heart so hard that it almost burns. I feel like a little girl again, cowering in a corner, about to face his wrath.

“You used to be useful, at least,” he says.

There’s an emptiness to his voice that scares me more than anything else I’ve heard from him before. I’m used to his anger and I know his cruelty. This is unlike either of those.

He’s cold when he looks at me. There’s not even a trace of glee in his expression. No emotion that I can discern.

“Now, you’re not even doing that.” He shakes his head. “Because of you, my business has taken a hit.”

“I’ve never been responsible for your business, or why it fails,” I snap.

I can’t hold back my fear or my fury. I don’t want to just play the same part I always did, afraid and holding my tongue. He can go fuck himself. No matter how crazy he is, I won’t just nod and pretend that any of this is because of me.

He steps forward and without warning, without any words, he backhands me.

The slap hits hard. It makes my neck ache, my head snapping to the side. I can feel the sting on my cheek set in immediately. I know there’s going to be a welt, even a bruise later.

My father takes a step back as I let out a low moan. There’s cruelty glittering in his eyes. His gaze skids over my face, looking but not really seeing.

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