Page 78 of Stitches

“You wouldn’t bring her back,” I murmured.

He gave me a sad look. “He’s threatened your lives as well. He owns Stitches. He’s a payment paid to my father for debts owed. He gave me Stitches to grow close to so that someday I could harm him.” He rubbed his eyes. “He’ll kill you and Sin too. I just…I’m always in control. In charge. With this…I don’t fucking know what to do. What do we do? He has me backed into a fucking corner, Asher.”

The front door opened, and Stitches came inside looking windswept, snowflakes in his dark hair. The light shined in such a way as to make the scar on his face more prominent where he’d cut off his tattoo while in the facility.

“Where’s Sirena?” he asked, his dark eyes darting around the room.

“Away,” Church replied, his voice thick with emotion as he got to his feet.

“What?” He tossed his jacket onto the back of the kitchen chair and came fulling into the living room. “What’s going on? Where is she?”

“I met with Father,” Church said. “Why didn’t you fucking tell me what happened in the facility? Why didn’t you tell me she was raped, and you were fucking there for it? That you held her down?” His voice cracked.

Sorrow washed over Stitches’s face at Church’s words, and I got to my feet too because I had no fucking idea how anything was going to go down. As much as it hurt to hear the words, I didn’t want another Sin repeat.

“She’s in danger, Malachi. Tell us what happened in there,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I don’t know,” he choked out, coming into the room and sinking onto the leather chair and covering his face.

Church sank back in his seat, so I followed and sat in mine, waiting for Stitches to talk.

“I was so fucked up in there. I didn’t know which was up. All I knew was that I needed her. They knew I did.” He looked at us. “I fucking tried. They broke me inside there. You don’t understand the shit I did. Or thought I did. I don’t even know what’s real and what’s a lie.”

“It was the new drug,” Church said. “Father told me about it. They used it on you.”

Stitches’s bottom lip wobbled. “It was this intense high. It felt so good, but then I couldn’t even fucking think straight. I felt like a zombie on autopilot in the dark. Nothing made sense. I thought people were touching me. Sucking me. Fucking me. Hell, I thought I did a little of it back too.” He sniffled and grew quiet.

No one said a word until he spoke again.

“It was real, wasn’t it? All of it?” The stricken and sick look on his face made my guts clench and tears prickle my eyes.

“Yes,” Church whispered.

Stitches let out a soft sob and hugged himself, rocking in his seat. I got up and went to my knees in front of him.

“Hey. It’s OK. You’re not alone,” I said softly, my voice shaking.

Please, don’t let him fucking fall again. Don’t let him lose it. Keep him strong, God. Please.

“I tried so hard. So fucking hard. I tried to keep her safe. I just…couldn’t. I failed her. It’s why I can’t even look at her. I don’t deserve her. I’m not worthy. And to know all the shit was real. Fuck.” He got up so fast it knocked me on my ass. He rushed to the bathroom and the sound of him vomiting sounded out around us.

“What do we do?” I asked, looking at Church. “You’re not blaming him, are you?”

“Why would I blame him for the sick shit in our father’s head? Those aren’t his sins to bear,” Church answered in a trembling whisper. “They’re his. They’re fucking Everett’s.”

Stitches came back into the room several long minutes later and went to his knees in front of Church.

“Brother,” he choked out, reaching for Church’s hands. “Please. Please forgive me. I’m so fucking sorry.”

Church reached out and cradled his face while I watched, my heart jerking rapidly.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Malachi. I love you. It’s not your fault.”

Stitches let out a soft cry and sagged against Church who held him back tightly. I stood watching as they clung to one another.

“Who hurt our girl?” Church asked in a low voice. “Who fucked her?”

Stitches pulled away and I moved to sit on Church’s other side, not sure if I wanted to know because I’d lose my damn mind if I had a name.

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