I watch him grab two bottles of water from the fridge, holding one out to me as he downs half of his. I take the other from him, but I don’t take a drink. I hate that he fucking knows me. I hate that you can say nothing but he figures it all out. "You're right, it's not about the order. It's about trust. I don't trust them. Fuck. I don't trust anyone. Prez, ever since Snake—"
"I get it. One of our brothers betrayed us, someone who had been in our ranks for more than twenty years. You're not alone, Ice. I struggle with trust right now too. But I’m asking you to take a step back. I know that it’s hard, but we have to learn to trust again. I'm going to let you into a little secret, something that only Wrath knows."
He sits on the bench, leaning forward, resting his arms on his knees. He drops his head into his hands, rubbing them across his face. "I never trusted Snake. From the day I got here when I was a kid, there was always something about him that seemed off. I kept it to myself for a while, but when Wrath came to visit, he said the same thing from the first time he met him. I tried to tell my dad how I felt, and he told me I was being stupid, that I was imagining it."
He looks up at me, and it’s the first time I've noticed just how tired he looks. "I should have trusted my gut. You think you failed when he attacked Marissa, trust me, it isn't comparable to how I feel. I let her down. But I also let you and the rest of the brothers down.” He stands and walks toward the door, and then he stops, turning back to me.
"My gut has never been wrong; I won't make the same mistakes twice. Trust your gut, Ice. If it tells you that something is off, then it probably is. And as for the Legion Riders, I've met them all. I don't get a bad vibe from any of them. Give them a chance." He doesn't wait for me to respond. He just turns and walks out of the door.
Chapter Seven
My head pounds and my stomach heaves as I continue to vomit into the toilet. I don't know how I have anything left to bring up. The only thing I've had for the last three days is water.
When my aunt and uncle came home on Sunday morning and realised that I stayed out on Saturday night, they withheld food from me. And when I tried to leave to go to work on Sunday afternoon, I realised they had locked me in my room.
As my stomach begins to settle, I lower myself down to the tile, gently placing my throbbing cheek on the cold tile floor. I know I can't lay here all day, if they find me here, they'll only give me another beating. I need to move. I need to go and prep dinner ready for them getting home from work. I just need another minute and then I’ll move.
I jolt as a door slams. "Oh. Ow," I croak out as I try to move. Shit, I'm still on the bathroom floor.
"You lazy worthless piece of shit. You were told to make sure that dinner was ready. Get off the floor and get into the kitchen," my aunt yells at me.
I groan as I try to move. My eyes sting as I blink a few times, trying to prise them open. Spots dance in my eyes, causing my vision to blur, but I can just make out my aunt leaving. I let out a breath, only to see the shoes of my uncle step around the door.
He doesn't say anything, just grabs me by my hair and drags me across the floor, out of the bathroom and all the way into my bedroom. I try to grab at his hands, try to stop him, but I can't lift my arms. Once we make it into my bedroom, he throws me to the floor then leaves, locking the door behind him.
I've taken a few beatings in the five years I've been here, but this is by far the worst. It's never lasted this long, and my uncle has never been quiet, he always has something to say, some remark or insult.
The silence is unnerving.
I try dragging myself across the floor to my bed, but it's just too much effort, so I lay my head down, letting the darkness take me as I pass out again.
Someone calling my name pulls me from sleep. I lie there for a minute, letting my body adjust to being awake, and my head pounds as I hear Mason call out my name and I try pushing myself up to my knees.
My head begins to spin and my stomach swirls, but I need to get to him, so I push up and crawl along the floor to the door. Grabbing the handle, I try to pull it open. “No. Shit,” I cry out. The door is still locked.
"Nova," I hear Mason cry through the door. "Are you okay?"
"Hey, buddy, yeah, my door is still locked... listen, you've got to go to your room before they come up—"
"They've gone.” He cuts me off. “I need to let you out.” He sobs as I hear him fumbling with the bolt. It takes him a few seconds, but he finally gets the door open.
"Oh, Mase," I cry. "I'm so sorry, buddy." Tears stain his face, his eyes swollen from crying. He’s cradling his left arm, holding it at an odd angle.
“What the hell did they do to you?” I ask, guilt washing over me.
He rushes over to me, wrapping his good arm around me. I hiss from the contact but hug him back.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I tried to stop Uncle Roger from hurting you, I ran up the stairs, but Aunt June pulled me down by my ankle and I landed on my arm.”
“I’m so sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to help you.”
"Nova." He sobs. "Please can we run away?"
I shake my head but don't let him go. I don't want him to see me cry. "We can't, Mase, I don't have enough money, we don't have anywhere to go."
"Riley’s. She'll help us. Please, Nova," he begs me between sobs. He's never begged me before, not like this. He's never cried like this before.
"Mase..."
