Rafe, I signed with a pointed look,you could barely walk to the bed.
His nose crinkled.It's wearing off then.
You're wasted.
Rafe drummed his fingers against his chest in thought, squinting up at the ceiling.
What?I asked.
He grinned.Nothing. Just like the mural.
I turned onto my back, noticing the artwork for the first time. It was a dark motif of what looked to be fallen angels, snakes, and burning pyres—all done in a matteblack. It was why I hadn't noticed it. You could really only see the full depiction from that angle, lying on the bed with the city lights filtering through the gauzy curtains.It's kind of morbid,I told him.
Rafe shrugged.We're kind of morbid, Arden, but I don't see Creed any less perfect. There's beauty in the dark. At least, I fucking hope there is. Otherwise, what's the point of all the pain and suffering?
The point?I heaved a sigh.To make rich men richer.
He blew out a hard exhale through his nose, his lips curving downward.Sure. There's no capacity to greed in our world. But can you really say you've found any light among all the shit?
I studied his hands as they moved. They were scarred and rugged, some of his fingers just slightly off from being broken so many times over the years. He had ink along some of his hands, carrying the most tattoos of all of us. I never really understood why. The ink was mostly random—things that Buyers don’t mind when you’re a killer like skulls, snakes, and thorned roses.
I think you're pretty, I admitted, a blush on my cheeks.I even thought when I walked in here how infuriating it is that you still looked good with vomit on you.
His chest heaved with a silent laugh, a tiny bit of the sound scraping out and causing him to wince.
Finally. I had a good question. I grinned, and Rafe matched it, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
What?he asked.
I reached a finger out to the roses in thick black ink along the top of his right hand. He froze at my touch, his breath stuttering, and I yanked my hand back.Sorry, I signed. He started to shake his head, to tell me it was fine, but I lifted a hand and continued quickly.Do your tattoos have meaning? Or did you just get them because they look cool?
I didn’t think it was possible but he tensed further, his smile falling. The tiny golden flecks in his black gaze that I could faintly make out had dimmed.
I didn’t choose them, he said finally. He exhaled softly.Buyers gave them to me over the years. Viktor was first with CREED.
My smile fell, too. Rafe was sold more than the rest of us as kids. I knew that, but it was different seeing the evidence of it scrawled across his body. Tattoos crawled over almost every inch—just a map of other peopleclaiming him without his permission, making him do terrible things to himself or others.
I’m afraid, he continued, his hands pausing a second before continuing,that most of your questions will likely have an answer like that. I want to tell you, but I don’t want your pity, Arden. You bear your own scars, too.
I tucked a little closer to him.There’s just so many Rafe.I reached out again, that time less tentatively, and took his hand, running my thumb over some of the ink. I traced the lines up his forearm. I pulled away gently, shaking my head.Were all the Buyers purchasing you to kill people?I asked it slowly. Everyone at Viktor’s knew Rafe was sold for his brute force, his ability to essentially be a well-trained bulldozer with a hell of an aim. He didn’t ask questions; he just killed. I think most of Viktor’s early wealth was built on selling Rafe, to be honest.
Not all of them wanted me like that, he answered, grimacing.Boys could be Dolls too, Arden.
My stomach tightened, my heart breaking.I know. I found that out with Thorne. Viktor sold us often for sex. That was why Thorne came to the courtyard. Well, one of thereasons. He wanted to get out of there, and he wanted to protect Kane.
I’ll never forget that day,he said, his mouth hooking with a tiny grin.The way you beat the shit out of those boys.
I blushed, my nose crinkling.A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.
I’m not making fun of you; I’m admiring you,he amended, giving me a serious look.We all were. I still remember what Kane said, too.
I tilted my head into the pillow, curious.
It was after him and Thorne dropped you back at your room. He wasn’t talking to me, just his brother, but I read his lips.
I narrowed my eyes.I bet you eavesdropped on everyone, huh?
He pressed his lips together, staring up at the ceiling as his fingers flew.In my defense, half the time, I couldn’t tell if they were talking to me or not.He waved his hands.Anyway, Kane called you Creed. He told Thorne to be ready. He knew Viktor wasn’t going to pass up on an opportunity to make you more valuable.
