Page 51 of Striker

“Whatever my father did must have been truly heinous to gain this level of hatred.”

“Your father isn’t a good man.” Striker drops the cloth, his eyes suddenly hard, like he forgot he was supposed to treat me with disdain. Like he forgot he’s supposed to hate me.

“You say that but won’t tell me what he did,” I say, watching as he stands and walks to the door.

Instead of answering, he says, “Wash up. Come down for breakfast after sunrise.”

“Striker,” I say as he nears the door. “I deserve to know what sin I’m paying for.”

He turns to face me. “You will find out when you’re ready to know.” He glances down at his watch before he turns to leave, but stops.

When his eyes meet mine, I suck in a breath. He barely looks present. Far away. But then he seems to snap back and shakes his head. “You may go out to the front garden, but do not go past the wall. Do not step foot on any ground that doesn’t take you right there.”

When I hear my bedroom door shut, I sink down into the water and dunk my head.

They don’t have to worry about me running again. I’m a fast learner.

And I know now exactly why I’m here.

Chapter 21

Striker

The most important lessonsare always the hardest to learn.

That is what Fallon said, as he locked the door and left us. Or when the belt cracked over our skin for the fifth time that week. Learning anything from Fallon hurt. I don’t know if lessons are supposed to, but they always did.

It’s amazing what can be learned when you crave affection. Touch. Even if the person teaching you is not worthy of yours.

Whenever we were punished, it was earned. There was always a reason behind Father’s cruelty, even if we didn’t understand it at the time. We learned eventually. Locking us in isolation gave us time to think, reflect, he’d say, so that when we emerged, we’d be different. Stronger for it, both mentally and physically. We knew we could survive three days with only water and our own thoughts. We knew we could handle the belt. The beatings. By the time we were faced with the final test, we knew, too, that we could survive the wilderness.

In order for Delilah to let go of all the false things she’s learned in her life, she needs to be broken apart and reconstructed. She now knows that if she stays inside, she’ll be safe. I told her as much. She knows if she clears her plate, or doesn’t protest, she’ll not get the same knuckle cracking lessons we got as children. Delilah knows as long as she follows orders, things will turn out well for her.

And when she can take the consequences of her actions, she’ll be rewarded.

She learned a harsh lesson last night. One I was surprised to find she took rather well. Surprised she responded by letting her own darkness seep out. But then Reaper knows what he’s doing.

That’s why we follow him.

She’s so much like him. Maybe that’s why he’s being so hard on her. He knows what it takes to empty a person. Carve off the misshaped bits. That’s what he’s doing with our Princess. Carving out the places she keeps hidden until they’re empty and we can fill them with the truth about her father. That’s the only way she’ll be able to handle it. Because when she finds out what her father is really like, she’s going to need us to guide her. And we need her trust, her acceptance, before she’ll be willing to help us.

I just hope when Reaper tries to crack her open a little more, he doesn’t go too far. She’s already accepting us, listening. We just need a little longer, but I fear that if he slips off the ledge he’s leaning over with her she’ll close herself back up and we won’t ever be able to reach her. I worry that his hatred for Rune is bleeding all over her. A little too much. So much so that she may drown in it before we can accomplish our mission.

I fear too that maybe I’m forgetting too often that I’m supposed to hate her. Just a little, so that what we’re doing is justified.

But some days…

Some days it’s easy to forget she’s here for one reason and it isn’t to fill that blank space in our hearts.

It’s solely to pay Rune Gavin back, and using his daughter is the only way.

The loud slam of the front door cracks through the room. I spin away from the window and look across the library to the entry.

Viper looks up from his book, slipping his mask down over his face. “Is she crazy?”

I catch Breaker’s grin before his mask slips down. “Maybe she wants another pussy spanking.”

I do the same, adjusting my mask over my eyes as I stalk toward the foyer, but before I can reach the other side of the room, Delilah comes into view. When she sees me, she freezes, and her face flushes pink.

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