Page 22 of Saviors

“I believe it because it’s the truth.” His thick fingers curled into the marble. He needed to get his ass to the gym and burn off this energy. Because if he tried to take me on, I’d have to lay him out again.

The tension inside me had been growing since I’d walked into that room and seen Violet. Since I’d realized we hadn’t exterminated our infestation. Eros was my safe haven. I’d kill to keep it that way.

“She needs us.” Connor sounded as resolved as Maverick.

I hated being the one who tore them down. But that was my role. Keeping them grounded. Keeping them from flying off the handle. Keeping them safe.

“For now. Just be prepared. She’s going to leave, eventually.” My gut tightened as the words fell from my lips.

That’s what needed to happen.

I saw it in my brothers’ eyes. She had a power over them already. The power to destroy us.

A figure appeared to Mav’s left at the bottom of the stairs. Violet’s black hair was tied up at the top of her head. Pieces fell down, framing her face, making her pale skin seem even fainter.

“Sorry.” Her fingers twisted into the hem of an oversized sweatshirt. My sweatshirt. The one Ivette had given her.

My gut loosened as I noticed how it swallowed her up. How good she looked in it. Her bare legs peaked out from underneath as she took a tiny step towards us. “I didn’t know if I was supposed to stay in my room.”

“You’re not a prisoner, little bloom.” Connor smiled at her and she gave a weak one back.

Maverick closed the distance between them. His hand was raised as if he was going to pull her closer, but he dropped it a second later. “This is your house as much as ours.”

“Thanks.” Her lip twitched again, but still no smile.

“Are you hungry?” I gestured to the plate of eggs and bacon we’d made for her, hopeful she’d come down.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Lifting one foot, she rubbed it along the other as she continued to twist her fingers in her shirt.

“We have eggs and toast.” Maverick’s hand hovered over her back, guiding her to the table without making contact.

She moved either because she didn’t want him to touch her or because she was curious. She blinked down at the plate of food. Her big green eyes staring like she’d never seen it before.

Connor’s gaze shifted to me. We exchanged looks of concern. Then he was talking to Violet again. Softly, as if he was afraid to spook her. “We could make you something else. Yogurt? Fruit?”

Her throat bobbed as her eyes connected with his. “I’m not sure.”

“Do you want some coffee?” Maverick moved towards me, reaching for the coffeepot. “Cream? Sugar?”

“Stop!” Violet’s hands flew to her head. She ran her fingers along her temples. “Please, just stop with all the questions.”

As I looked at her face contorted in pain. At the panic in her eyes, it clicked. She was used to taking orders. She’d forgotten how to make decisions.

I remembered the feeling well. The paralyzing fear when you had to make even the simplest of choices. In juvie, you were told when to eat, sleep, piss. And before then, there was my mother. One tiny move outside her plan and she’d fly into a rage.

I’d spent most of my life following someone’s orders because it was easier. Smarter to keep the peace.

Then I’d been freed. I’d had to decide what to wear. Where to live. What to do. It had been overwhelming. My balm for the panic was control. I planned every detail of my day. Knew exactly what to expect.

Violet hadn’t had time to figure out her solution. And she wouldn’t with my oaf brothers bothering her.

“Get out.” I ordered. They knew better than to question me. They left without a word. But their gazes lingered on her, reminding me we had another problem to solve.

Violet’s chest rose, an unsteady breath rattling through her. But her eyes tracked me as I grabbed the plate of food and crossed the room. I moved to the table, pulling a chair out and setting the dish down. “Sit. Eat.”

“I-I can’t.” She protested even as her body collapsed on to the wood. Her survival instincts taking over.

“It wasn’t a choice. It’s an order.”

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