A tight, white shirt strangled his biceps, and though he was standing still, I had the impression that he was ready to jump into battle.
Maverick eyeballed his son. “Costello, come get your brother off of me.”
The lighter-haired brother considered Kain, then his eyes crossed to where I was trapped between them. “Maybe you should explain what’s going on here first.”
“Fucking hell,” Maverick spat. “Are all of you rebelling? I said get him away. Do as you’re told.”
There was a second when I met Costello’s stare. His irises were sheer ice, but they weren’t cruel. Why would he be sad? It didn’t matter; quicker than a hummingbird’s wings, the lean man slid his arms around Kain’s neck.
“Shit—Costello!” Kain cried out, releasing his father to tangle with his attacker. The brothers wrenched away, Fran covering her mouth as she gawked along with me. Costello wasn’t much bigger than Kain—I’d have said he was thinner, less muscular, if pressed for details.
Kain twisted, his torso showing as his shirt peeled higher. I saw every fiber under his skin flex. The two men tumbled against a wall, their impact reverberating through my teeth. I started to rush at them, hoping to get them to stop.
Taking advantage of the situation, Maverick opened the door and pulled me through.
Francesca had started to intervene with her brothers, but she must have thought my situation was worse, because she came after me instead. “Daddy! This is fucked up! What’s wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me.” Violently, he thrust me forward. “I’m doing what I have to, to keep everyone safe.”
“This is your idea of safe?” I asked, stumbling away from him. My cynical laugh flew free. “Dragging me through your house and making your kids fight like some testosterone-fueled junkies?” I was going to say more . . . but I’d finally noticed where I was.
Flowers grew along the walls, weaving through the tiny holes to create hanging gardens. The ceiling was one big window, a peephole to the galaxies stretching above. Under my sock-clad feet, I saw I was standing on a plush, white rug. There was a large, round bed set in a corner, the gold blanket shiny—opulent.
I saw it as a private sanctuary for an emperor . . . or a queen.
How was this a punishment?
Then Maverick showed me a key. “This,” he said, making sure I was listening, “is where you’ll live for the rest of your stay, however long that may be.”
“What? This one room?” I asked.
The man raised his eyes to the hallway, mine followed. Costello had his brother in a headlock so tight it had turned him purple. I started toward him in a panic; Maverick snatched my wrist again. “You’re worried about him, aren’t you?” he asked into my ear.
Bending away, I grimaced. “Of course I am!” My next shout was aimed at Costello. “How can you do that to your own brother? Let him go!”
Amazingly, Costello did. Kain dropped to the ground, hacking as he cupped his throat. The sight was awful. I struggled to get to him, but his father was an immovable object. This was too much; I felt a part of me snapping.
“Look at him,” Maverick hissed at me. “If you care so much, how could you risk his life by making him take you off our property?”
“I needed to leave!”
“And I need people to listen to me so no one gets killed!” he roared.
Stunned, I stopped yanking at his tight grip. From the corner of my eye, I saw how horrified Fran looked. But . . . she didn’t look surprised. She’s seen her father like this before, I realized.
The big man took my shoulders, making me face him. “I had every intention of trusting you and Kain to follow my request. You didn’t. Neither of you seems to get what’s going on, how much danger we’re all in. I care about this family, even if you don’t.”
“I do care,” I insisted.
He went quiet. In my ears, Kain’s dry coughing echoed. That sound rocked me with shame. My head was buzzing, making it too hard to decide which of Maverick’s words were threats and which were advice. Did I mess up? Is this my fault?
Was Kain suffering because of me?
Letting me go, he walked out into the hall. “Costello,” he said, handing over the key. “Take turns with Hawthorne. You’re to make sure she never leaves this room.”
Lightning exploded in my veins. “You’re actually serious.”
Costello stared at me for too long. Then he slid his eyes to Francesca. Something passed between them, a look that seemed to say, This again? It was the closest I’d seen them ever come to connecting.
Francesca spun away, her scowl beyond severe.
Costello closed his fingers on the key. “All right.” Bending down, he helped Kain to his feet.
The other brother shoved him off, stepping back to glare at everyone except for me. “You’re going to literally lock her up, and you think I’ll allow that?”
“What will you do?” his dad asked quietly. “Fight all of us and flee away into the night? You’d tear this family apart for a stranger?”
“She isn’t—” Kain cut himself off. “Yes. I’d fight everyone in the whole fucking world to make sure she didn’t have to suffer through your perverse ideas of safety like the rest of us have. You haven’t learned a damn thing from the past.”
I was so overwhelmed by the full-body throb that fought with my growing pit of ice that I didn’t consider the implication that this had happened before. He’d fight his own blood . . . for me? The thrill of that admission was crushed by my morbid guilt.
I saw it in my mind’s eye: the suffering, the tears—the pain.
I saw how they faced off now, already acting like enemies.
I saw their family photo, all the genuine, unguarded smiles.
And I saw my mother standing in front of the empty casket belonging to my father.
“No.” One by one, they all looked at me. But I only looked at Kain. “Don’t fight your own family. I don’t want to see anyone getting hurt because of me.”
He took a step my way. “Sammy.”
Lifting a hand to ward him off, I turned toward Maverick. “If you want me to stay in here, I’ll do it. Just don’t punish Kain because of what he did for me.”
Pain rippled through Kain’s frown. Ignoring everyone, he stalked my way, grabbing me up in his arms. I was lost in his touch, blown away by his open display of affection. This man, he didn’t care at all what anyone thought.
And he’d said I was the tough one?
His lips found mine, the kiss too brief. “I’ll get you out of here,” he promised to me, so quiet no one else could hear.
I smiled indulgently, but I had no response.
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -
SAMMY
A white horse circled me, letting me pet its side. It was all I could see, but that was fine; it was all I wanted to see. Under my touch, it was silver and gold, and then it was nothing but black.
“Sammy!”