Dr. Fuckface leaves. Uncle Jasper saunters over to me, laying a hand on my shoulder. That’s it, just my shoulder. Tell thatto my brain. My body goes fucking ballistic as I fight like hell and fail to get it under control. Heaving breaths that are near hyperventilation. A wheezing rasp that scratches against the rubbed-raw flesh of my trachea. Sharp, stabbing pain scrapes along my ribs, doubling me over. Yep, pretty sure one of those is busted. He needs to get his hand off me. But what am I supposed to do? He’s already made it clear that he gets to do whatever he wants.
Telling my body to fucking stop it does nothing. In fact, it makes it worse, turning me into the equivalent of a pressure cooker, holding in steam, about to burst.
He takes his hand away. There’s immediate relief. So the motherfucker rests his hand there again, testing. The same thing happens, my breathing erratic, heart pounding, blood racing. All it takes is a touch, and I’m catapulted into the darkness again, seized by sheer terror.
“W-What did you d-do to me?” I force out beyond the horrifying anxiety, fighting to catch my breath, praying he takes his hand away.
He does. I settle down, but my stomach’s still doing flip flops.
Uncle Jasper’s pleased smile beams. “Any mind can be infiltrated, my dear nephew. Even your damaged one. It works so much better than beating someone.”
“Then why d-did you beat me?” I manage in an angry, shaky breath. In the background, my body’s an aching sack of bones from all the hits it took from his fucking steel-toed boots and his nasty leather belt, but thank you, adrenaline, I guess. I’ll feel it later; for now, terror is at the forefront.
He shrugs. “You got me there. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a nice stress release.”
Fucking bastard asshole. Icannotbelieve this man was related to my father. I barely remember my father, but I imaginehe was the Luke of their brotherhood. Jasper is a psychopath, and my mental profile is far too similar to his.
“What now?”
“You have to heal and get your strength up before you come home. You’ll stay at this facility and feel fucking lucky that you’re not in the basement.”
“Where’s here?”
“Not important. I’ll have tasks for you. Completing them gets you home faster. Bad behavior gets you …” He squeak-squeaks. Yeah, like a fucking rat.
This motherfucker.
Does he think he’s funny? Probably. A real sick and twisted fucking comedian. Insert sarcasm. And I know what I’m about to say, I’ll regret it, but fuck. Him.
“I can’t wait to kill you.” It would come across as so much more badass if I weren’t shaking like dice in a Yahtzee cup.
He sighs. “So close, Tatum.” He speaks into the intercom.
If I don’t like a hand on my shoulder, two bulky men grabbing me, waking up all my breaks and bruises, is infinitely worse. I’m sure Uncle Jasper’s sorry that he barely gets to hear my screams before I pass out.
16
RYAN
Everything about Tate says he’s guarded—the tightness around his eyes, the careful way he’s moving. As if he thinks he disrupted the force. Not good for someone who needs immaculate control of every situation. He told me how his uncle broke him. Tate thinks he’s heartless, sounds like his uncle made sure of that, too, but he’s been through hell to protect his brother. That takes at least a little heart. Can’t he see that?
“The months following were hell. At least I can tolerate touch now, but you don’t realize how many innocuous touches happen in a day until it triggers a violent reaction. Jasper showed me many ways he could control me, but none was as final or as caging as that one. He showed me I could be powerless.”
“I understand,” I say slowly. “My grandfather was diabolical. I wish I knew what happened to him to make him so fucking evil.”
He tilts his head. “Is that how you think it works? Something made him evil?”
Tate’s hand slides against my cheek. It’s warm and heavy. I grip it, covering the knuckles with my palm.
“Isn’t that what happened to you?”
The devil arrives on his face as if the past several minutes didn’t happen. “All that did was short-circuit my neuropathways, baby. I was always this way.”
Why is that hot? Fuck me. I bite my lip until it breaks, and copper bursts over my taste buds. He swoops in to kiss me, tasting my blood.
“But, my grandfather, he built inventions. He said they were to train future Savages. I’ve managed to keep Griff away from them, but my father?—”
His hand slips to the nape of my neck, fingers digging in. “But he fucking uses them on you.”
