I flinched, and his eyes softened.
"Jesus, I didn't mean that," Kane backtracked, but it was too late. The words were sinking down inside me. It was one thing to think something like that about yourself, but it was another thing to hear it from someone you looked up to. "Arden," he tried, taking a step toward me. "I'm a dipshit. I'm sorry. My mouth got ahead of my brain."
But Rafe stood, jerking between us when I took a faltering step back. He wrapped a protective arm behind him, his fingers tucking me close.
Kane's nostrils flared, his anger rising again. "What? Now you want to come to her defense, you fucking hypocrite?"
Thorne jumped down from his bunk with a heavy exhale. "Brother, back up."
But Kane didn't. Him and Rafe were the same height, relatively the same build. It was impossible to know if one of them would win in a fight, or if they'd just beat each other down into mirrored pulp.
"Please, stop," I said, my voice catching. I tugged from Rafe's grip and limped around to shove between them. I braced my hands on their chests, forcing them apart. Thorne steadied me, stepping behind me and pressing his hands lightly against my hips in case I fell. "We have enough people beating on us. We don't need to do it to each other."
Kane hooked his hands behind his head and turned away, walking to the other side of the cell and pressing his forehead into the wall. He exhaled slowly as Rafe lowered back to his cot, bracing his elbows on his knees.
"Let's get some rest," Thorne suggested. He carefully let go of my waist. "You okay, little flame? Do you need help getting into bed?"
I shook my head. "No. Thanks."
Thorne watched me, his brows drawn in worry. His fingers came up and grazed one of my fresh bandages on my bicep. "Another burn?"
I pressed my lips together, not wanting to talk about it.
He frowned but left me be, going to his brother and steering Kane's shoulders toward their bunks. With reluctance, Kane climbed up, peering over the edge atme with a guilty expression. "Arden," he said softly. "I'm sorry."
I couldn't look at him. "Go to sleep, Kane," I muttered.
With a breath, I turned toward my cot only to be stopped by a firm grip wrapping around my wrist. I stood there, just breathing in and out, my eyes fluttering shut as I kept my back to Rafe. His hand was warm and calloused andalive. I was a hypocrite. I really was. I said what I said to Thorne and Kane about not really caring if Rafe wanted to die, but I couldn’t fathom a life without any of them and especially him. There hadn’t been a shadow in my life that Rafe Creed hadn’t also been pulled into, and I didn’t know how I was meant to survive the dark without his presence. I just couldn’t, and I hated what he was choosing.
He tugged softly on my arm, and I turned to face him. My heart thundered when I saw the red rim of his waterline and the tears he was holding back. The lights to our cell shut off, casting us in pitch black, and his grip tightened on my wrist. It felt desperate and seeking like he was trying to tell me something and he didn’t know how, but I was angry. If he put aside his pride andtriedin that fucking ASL class, then he could’ve told meexactlywhat he needed.
I yanked my arm free and moved to my bunk, rolling onto my side so I covered my good ear. If I’d done it quicker, I would’ve missed it, but I’d paused slightly when I was lifting my sheet to cover me, and in that one second, I heard Rafe speak for the very first time.
It was rough, distorted, and the cadence was off. There wassomuch pain in the words, not metaphorical pain, butphysicalpain like speaking was agonizing for him to do.
I shot up from my bed.
“Holy fuck, did Rafe justtalk?” Kane asked, jumping down from his bunk in the dark with a grunt. Thorne was down just as fast, the three of us blinking blindly. Our eyes slowly adjusted, the tiniest bit of light emanating from the steady recording light of the cameras.
I could barely make out Rafe still hunched on the edge of his bed, his head was down, so he didn’t even realize we were all there again, ready to listen. I gently pressed my hand to his knee, and the bed creaked whenhe startled. I could make out his head panning slightly, the way he shifted uncomfortably at our presence.
I sucked in a breath and took his hand, bringing it up to my mouth. “Tell us.”
Kane and Thorne peered at me. Thorne chuckled under his breath while Kane let another string of curses fly. “You’re fucking kidding me, Arden,” Kane growled. “You’ve had a way totalk to Rafeand you never told us?”
I glared in their direction, lowering Rafe’s hand a moment. “If you’d tried, you’d know he can read lips like this.”
They fell silent at that, but not for long.
“That isn’t fair,” Thorne argued, his voice soft. “Wehavetried. Rafe’s never let anyone as close as you.”
I inhaled deeply and brought Rafe’s fingers back to my lips. “Rafe,” I said, “talk to us.”
He ripped his hand away like I’d hit him, but I shook my head and yanked his fingers back with a firm grip.
“Don’t,” I growled. “Don’t do that. Don’t pull away. You justspoke, Rafe. We couldn’t understand the words, but you tried and wewantto understand. Please.”
He reached up then, grabbing my palm and placing it over his chest. His fingers shook as he slid my handover the ink that sprawled there, tugging my touch to a ridged spot against the column of his throat. I’d never noticed it before because it was thoroughly tattooed over, but it was a scar. Raised and long, it had to have been a major injury to his throat, maybe even to his vocal chords.
