I can see the tremor he’s trying to hide and I know that he’s close to losing it. I give Vex a tight smile before standing and moving to Justice’s side, wrapping him in my arms. “Shhh, you’re safe.” He nods, and sniffs wetly, before raising his head.
“Sorry Prez. I, shit, I, maybe I’m not cut out for prospecting, I’m weak. I, it’s ah, God why is this so hard?” he whispers the end of his sentence, then looks at me, eyes pleading. “Tell them,” he murmurs, before hiding his face in my shoulder.
“You’re sure?”
The nod of his head has me taking a deep breath, and looking around the room. Swallowing, I try to work out how I’m going to say this to a room full of men I trust, but still don’t know terribly well. Funny how that works. Taking a deep breath, I look at Dex. “I’m guessing the body was covered in small cuts, all over?” Dex dips his chin, and I nod back, letting out a breath. “And there were long, almost rectangle shaped burns on him? Mainly on his chest and back?”
“What the fuck?” Flack murmurs as Dex nods again.
“Then I’m also guessing the tongue was cut too.” I take another deep breath then let it out. “In Eden’s Keep you were disciplined for every slight. Mainly paddled or made to kneel on cold coals and pray to God. But some of us, well, some of us weretreated a lot worse.” My eyes dart down to Justice, who sniffs then raises his head.
Without a word he straightens up in his chair, head raised high as if somehow my words have made him feel stronger, more confident.
“From the age of two years old until I was 17, my fatherrapedme,” he whispers. “His reasoning was to ‘fuck the devil out of me’.” Growls sound out around the table. “If I cried I was punished.” Justice stands, his hands going to the buttons of his shirt.
He makes quick work of them, then opens his shirt, peeling it off his body to reveal a road map of torture and pain.
“Prospect,” Dex, our Prez says in a voice I’ve never heard before. Clear, commanding and with such gravity that there is nothing you can dobutlisten to him. “There is nothing weak about what you have survived. I mean it. You are not a victim, you are a fucking survivor and we would be honored to have a man like you in our ranks.” Justice sniffs loudly next to me. “Thank you, for sharing your story. We will protect your privacy, as we will protect you.”
A breath rushes out of Justice as he lands heavily in his chair, the weight of revealing his secret leaving his body unburdened. “Thank you, Prez. Thank you brothers-” his voice catches on a gasp when his gaze lands on Vex and his brothers. Shirtless.
Their bodies bear the same marks, skin puckered and marred in places, others covered in silvery lines of healed trauma.
“This is why I wasn’t grossed out, Damian. We’ve seen the injuries before, just not on a dead body,” Vex says, with a tight smile.
Damian looks from Vex and his brothers to Justice before settling his gaze on Sniper and Prez. “So, who are we killing and when?”
Chapter 13
Vex
Iquietly follow Loyal out to the vehicle, the weight of a sleeping Bree in my arms while Addy’s little body almost dwarfs Loyal’s small frame. There was no real decision made on next steps going forward in Church. To his credit Dex let the weight of what Justice shared this evening lead the way forward, which was to get a full run down from the ex-Eden’s Keep members just what they’re dealing with. I’m not sure if it helped or just confirmed why the fuck we work so hard to help the people we do.
I gently place Bree in the vehicle, buckling her in gently, then wait on Loyal to do the same. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms and hold her tight. I know what we went over in Church is likely to have brought up trauma and pain for her, but my woman is a fucking warrior, and instead of falling to pieces, she quietly marched into Joe’s room to retrieve the girls, and we’ll take them home and have them close while I help her sort through her feelings. And I know there will be a lot.
I settle into the driver’s side, waiting patiently for Loyal to take her seat beside me. As soon as she’s settled I start the vehicle and head toward our home. I place my hand on herthigh and give her a little squeeze, letting her know I’m here for her. Her eyes are on the dark path outside, not really looking at anything in particular as one of her soft hands lands on top of mine, gripping it tightly.
I keep my eyes on the road for the short ride, letting the silence wash over us. I know Loyal, and I know she needs this time to get her thoughts in order. When she’s ready she’ll let me know.
We pull up to the house and I move quickly to open the front door and get the lights on before rushing back outside and this time getting Addy out of the car. Loyal walks ahead of me with Bree in her arms, shushing her slightly when she stirs. On silent feet we move into the twins’ room, our movements synchronized as we lay them down, cover them up and press kisses to their auburn heads. Each twin snuggles into their beds, oblivious to the storm of emotions Loyal and I are dealing with.
Grasping Loyal’s hand I lead her to our room, only letting her go to move into the bathroom and get the shower running. I don’t feel dirty after what was shared tonight, but somehow I still feel the need to be cleansed. I can’t explain it, but I know Loyal feels it too as she cups my cheek in her hand, her thumb stroking the coarse hair of my beard.
She holds my gaze, her bright blue eyes saying everything her lips aren’t. She’s hurt, haunted, but I can see relief and a spark of hope. Hope for the future, hope for her dreams, hope that the worst is already behind us.
She steps back slightly, hands moving to her pretty cream blouse. Her fingers fumble on the tiny buttons, but she doesn’t take her gaze off mine. She’s determined, strong. She tips her jaw up a little higher as she finishes the last button, then the blouse falls from her shoulders, the creaminess of her pale skin glowing in the low lighting of our bedroom. I open my mouth to ask if she’s OK, if she wants this, if maybe she’s moving too fastor needs some time or something, anything, but she stops me with a finger to my lips. That’s when she surprises me. Her lips tilt up at the corners and she peers through her lashes at me, not coyly or flirty, but strong, like a woman who is calling the shots. I press a gentle kiss to the finger that silenced me, and she smiles wider. Her hands move to her jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping, and I can barely restrain my cock as it jumps in my jeans when she shoves the denim down her thick thighs, the material taking her panties with them. She kicks her clothing away when she shucks off her ballet flats and my breath catches at the beauty of her, laid bare to my eyes only.
Every dip, every curve, every handful of soft flesh on display for me, only for me. It doesn’t escape me that for the first time in her life she has made a choice, her choice with her body, and it’s me that she’s chosen to bare herself for. It’s only fair for me to return the gesture. I kick off my unlaced boots, flinching slightly at the loud thud they make against the wall. Loyal scrunches her cute nose but her eyes don’t leave mine. My hands move to my cut but I’m stopped by her gentle touch. She runs her hands up my chest ever so gently, running them up over my shoulders, pushing my cut with them. I catch the soft leather before it drops to the floor and Loyal takes it from me, carefully folding it in half and laying it on the dresser, running her fingers over the DRMC patch reverently before turning back to me and roughly untucking my Henley from my jeans. As if all her gentleness has been replaced with desperation she shoves my shirt up over my head, the material barely clearing my face when I feel her hands on my belt, then my jeans. It’s a complicated dance of hands, fabric, body parts and movement and before I know it I stand before her, naked as she is, bare, exposed. Raw.
Our breaths are coming quick, as if we’ve run a marathon rather than undressed, and again my eyes catch on how gorgeous and perfect she is. The silvery white lines from thepunishments she endured glow in the light, every one of them placed to match mine. The thin lines on her collarbone from speaking out of turn match the ones on mine from where I questioned the Prophet on his teachings. The three thicker scars on the top of her chest from disobedience match the three long lines that cut across my pec like a bear claw attack from my own disobedience, only mine elongated every time I was caught. The only silver line I don’t have a match for is the one that sits low on her pelvis, just above the copper triangle between her legs. That one is the cruelest. That is the one Goodson gave her when he took away her ability to become a mother, a dream that I know my woman would have wanted more than anything else in this world.
I don’t realize how much staring at that little, thin line upsets me until Loyal steps closer and catches my tears on her lips as she kisses them away. Leaning back I search her gaze, her cheeks wet with tears that match mine. I press my lips to them, the salty taste of them lingering on my tongue as she takes my hand and guides me to the bathroom. She leads me into the shower and joining me we let the warm water run over us, from the top of our heads to the tips of our toes. The heaviness of Church and our memories are washed away with the water as my hands gently, reverently cleanse Loyal as she does me. There isn’t anything sexual in our movements, even if my cock is hard as rock. This, what we are sharing, is healing, not arousing. For the first time in my life the girl that I knew was mine is standing before me in all her glory, with her pain on show and I’m here to help heal her. I believe that in my heart.
I’m unsure how long we stand there, but it’s long enough for the water to run cold. Instead of yelping and rushing to turn off the spray Loyal tips her head back and rejoices. She laughs, wild, free and full of happiness and it takes my breath away when she looks up at me, waterdrops hanging on her thick lashes.
“I love you, Loyal Blessing.” Somehow she lights up even more, her lips crashing to mine as the cold water blasts us, but I don’t care.
She tears her lips from mine, beaming as she repeats the words, and my world is complete.
