He’d been doling out similar warnings since she decided to join the club. She didn’t want to admit he was right.Change the subject.
“What the hell are you doing? This is my Rage.”
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
“I don’t need your protection, if that’s what you’re here for.”
“Believe me, protection is the last thing I think you need, but you might want it.”
They’d been through this before. Not once, but countless times. He’d tell her some horrible thing about the Society, push her to quit, and then throw his hands up in exasperation when she wouldn’t listen to him. As far as Sam was concerned, he didn’t understand. Hecouldn’tunderstand.
Or rather, Thomas didn’t want to understand her or why she had to do it. In her darker moments, she would bitterly curse him and make bold, internal accusations—like he didn’t want her to succeed because he wanted to remain their father’s favorite. Those baseless speculations didn’t stick for very long. Thomas was probably the most honest, forthright man she knew.
Which wasn’t sayingmuch. But it was saying something.
“I’m not giving up, Thomas. Nothing you say can make me do it.”
“These guys are ruthless—”
Her fingers itched to throw her hands in the air.
“Didyougo through it?”
“Yes, but I also have a cock and believe me, they’re easier on people who have one.”
“I may not have a cock, Thomas…” Sam was unable to keep a smirk from breaking across her face. Her brother took everythingsoseriously. Couldn’t he relax? Take a joke? “But I do have balls. And I’m going to see this thing through.”
“Jesus.” It was his turn to throw hands in the air. “Come see me in the morning so I know you’re stillalive, at least.”
He disappeared around a corner, leaving a trail of frustration and hollow disappointment behind him. Her conscience picked at her. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want him to be upset. She wanted him to be the happy-go-lucky guy who always knew how to put a smile on her face. She just couldn’t trade her chance at joining the club for it. He would see. Once she was in the Society, he would understand why she’d fought so hard and defied him so often.
Shake it off. You don’t have time to worry about Thomas. You’ve got enough to worry about for yourself. Following her own marching orders, Sam slid into her bedroom.
She shouldn’t have been shocked at what she found there. But she was all the same. As she’d predicted, in one corner, two of the men in blue suits were digging through her underwear, shoving lacy selections in their pockets. Graham’s feet hung out from under her bed, but whatever he was trying to do down there, Sam couldn’t even begin to guess. Wellington, a short stooge who panted at every word Captain said, turned out the drawers onto the floor. The saddest member of the party was clearly PJ, who’d tucked himself into a corner of the room so he could read Sam’s ancient copy ofNew Moonto the nearly empty wineglass cradled in his arms like a baby. Captain jumped on her bed. He shook a champagne bottle, twisting the golden cap.
“Champagne, lads?”
Pop!The cork exploded, firing champagne threads at the wall. He waved it, clearly trying and desperately failing to spell his own name. The entire display flushed Sam along her collar, but she didn’t dare speak.
Don’t say anything, Sam. Don’t say anything. This is what they do. It’s harmless fun. Everything can be cleaned or replaced.
“We need a fire!” Graham shouted from under the bed. “It’s cold as shit in here.”
In a flash, everything changed. It was no longer fun and games, no longer harmless fun. Because when she looked up, it was not trash Wellington extended carelessly out for fire starters. It was her mother’s pictures. The only ones she had of the woman who gave birth to her. The only picture she had of her parents together.
“Use these. Are these important?”
She couldn’t control herself anymore. Call hergirl. Call herPiggy. Steal her underwear and do God knows what with it. Ruin her room and drink all of her wine, but they couldn’t have her mom. With the ferocity of a wild cat and even less sense, she lunged for him.
“Hey, don’t—” Sam roared.
But she didn’t make it more than two steps before being caught by her collar. She didn’t know which one had her, and she didn’t care. Hard arms clutched her, trying to pull her toward the door. Her vision tunneled toward those pictures, the only evidence she had of her family.
“Take her outside.”
“I can take it.” She struggled to catch her breath, to seem cool long enough to be released. If she could get across the room, she could save her mom.
“Oh, I’m sure you can. But you’re not allowed. We find people get very…” Captain took the pictures out of Wellington’s grasp. Sam’s entire world froze. All she could see were his spindly fingers along the edges, starting to tear the delicate paper. “…sensitive when their rooms are getting rifled.”
