“Fuck!” I scream in frustration, pacing away from the door that’s keeping me from getting to my boy.
I walk back to the opening, peering through, hoping I’ll get a wee glimpse o' my boy. My eyes light on him through the plants and trees that fill the atrium. He’s standing with his back to meand Samuel is in front o’ him. Growling under my breath, I keep watching, but I cannae see what’s going on, and they’re too far away to hear what’s being said.
I punch the door, my fist still wrapped around the axe handle. Pain explodes, and I growl, “I’m going to tear that fucker limb from limb with my bare hands.”
After another glance through the opening, I weigh my options: keep hacking at the door until I can fit through or take the option I tossed aside earlier and go back through the passageways so I can get to him another way.
Realizing I have no hope o' getting that hole big enough to fit my hulking body through, I raise my hands above my head, resting them and the axes there, and I growl loudly, “Ahhhhhh!”
I turn, looking back over my shoulder at the door. I admit defeat and swear under my breath. With axes in hand, I take off in a sprint, vowing, “Tavish, I’m coming for ye, min karlek.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
TAVISH
I turnand run from him, fleeing as fast as my feet will move. Draven’s bellows and the door smacking into the table as he tries to get through it provide a backdrop for my escape attempt.
“You best stop. You know what happens when you run from me.”
“Screw you!” I scream, making a mad dash through the atrium toward what has to be the door out of here.
I dodge all matters of things as I run for the door. Anything and everything I can pick up and toss behind me as I go, I do, leaving a path of destruction behind me. Something has to slow him down or injure him enough he can’t chase me down.
My hand wraps around the handle with a sigh of relief and I yank it open.
A fucking closet.
My eyes flood as defeat swarms me like a hive of angry bees attacking from every angle. I look around the tiny room. There’s nothing I can use to protect myself. It’s just an empty closet that smells of soil and fertilizer. Samuel bears down on me, so I step inside and pull the door closed.
Or try to.
The door that opened easily enough sticks as I try to pull it closed. It’s almost like something’s wedged in the hinges.
“Please, please, please,” I beg, but no matter how much I yank on it, it won’t shut.
Letting go of the door, sobs overwhelm me, and I let them have a moment, but that’s all they get. When I hear Samuel’s feet approaching, I suck it up and dash the tears from my face. I’m not the same boy I was when I was with him. I’ll not let him push me back there.
The sound of Draven beating on the door, trying to get to me, reminds me of who I am now.
I am Tavish Buchanan.
A founder of Societas Exspiravit.
But most importantly, I’m Draven and Simon Helvig’s boy. It doesn’t matter whether Simon is with us. That changes nothing. I’m still his because I’m Draven’s and so was he. I’ll be damned if I let Samuel take me without a fight, covered in tears and snot, begging for mercy. I’ll do my Daddies proud. Both of them, the one who loves me and the one who didn’t get the chance.
Samuel appears in the doorway, a smug smirk painted on his ugly mug. His eyes run up and down as if he’s appraising me. It leaves me feeling cold and used.
“You know better than to hide yourself from me.”
I did know better. But that was old Tavish. New and improved Tavish wants to tell him to go fuck himself. But I don’t think I have the courage, not yet. So, instead I whisper it. Something I know he hates.
“What was that? Get out here, boy.”
I still don’t answer. I keep my gaze on his face, my mouth shut, and I watch him stew, growing angrier and angrier.
He reaches into the closet and snatches hold of my arm, pulling me toward him. The touch of his skin against mine has my stomach churning with the need to puke. He’s alwaysdisgusted me. Now that I’ve met Draven, I feel even more turned off by the man in front of me than I ever have before. He’s vile, evil, and not worth the money he spent on his expensive shoes.
“You know how to behave. I expect you to do exactly as you’ve been taught.”
