The bridge of her nose is swollen, her face mottled with bruises. Deep shadows are etched under her eyes.
Her watery, raw, accusing eyes.
“There he is.” Jett’s tone is sickeningly cheerful, louder than before.
I don’t look at him. I can’t. My eyes stay locked on my broken, wounded Bronwyn. The sight of her is a weight pressing down, crushing me.
“Let her go.” My throat tightens, my voice rough. “She won’t tell anyone?—”
“You.” Knox’s grip bruises my arm as he squeezes it, dragging me closer to his side.
My arm screams under the pressure.
“What the hell is this?” Papa’s blue eyes cut to Knox’s, his brow furrowing. “You call this taming her?”
Easton groans as Jett hauls him to the spot next to Papa. The open gash on Easton’s forehead drains the last ounce of hope from me.
Out of the three of us, Easton is the strongest. Now he’s nothing, subdued and wounded.
Bronwyn’s chin quivers, her cheeks stark red.
Knox, if possible, holds me tighter.
“Yeah, Brother, we heard you up there. You banged her around. Where’s the blood?” The leering gaze Jett directs at me has my skin crawling. “The swelling?”
Knox takes a step forward, shifting his grip on my arm so he can push me an inch behind him.
He’s…shielding me?
Why waste his breath? There’s only death waiting for me here.
For the three of us, if I don’t do something soon.
“Her stomach and back are bruised.” Knox huffs, pretending to be completely unaffected while he shoves me another inch behind him.
“We taught you better than that.” Rage flickers across Papa’s face. “Other than doing whatever it takes to paralyze them, you don’t damage the quality by striking below the neck.”
Paralyze who? Quality of what? What the fuck is going on?I want to ask.
Then I remember…
“See, I won’t sell your skin. I’ll tan it, turn it into leather. Keep you with me forever.”
No. No.
This can’t be what I think he does.
They can’t be doing…this.
No fucking way.
“I’ll make sure the quality’s fine,” Knox talks faster than words can form on my heavy tongue. “Don’t worry about that.”
“Ma, there you go.” A little girl’s voice carries up from the basement, happy and shrill. “I sharpened the knife just the way you like.”
My stomach ties up in knots.
My mouth snaps shut. The blood drains from my face.
