Page 8 of Brutal Savior

Goth and Preppy exchange a long glance, then everyone starts talking at once.

“I'm sure they can fix...”

“Kendrick, what's the protocol for…”

“Sir, I can't apologize enough…”

“Jacob, I promise we'll rectify…”

The kindergarten teacher is the only one still looking at me. She frowns and grips the gothy guy’s arm. “Gabriel, she's terrified. They can't leave her on the ground like that. Do something.”

The goth guy—Gabriel, apparently—swallows and nods. He approaches the man in the business suit, who I'm starting to think is the boss, and says something I can't hear. Business suit nods, then raises a hand and speaks over the commotion.

“Colonel Brackis, take this young lady to one of our detention cells. Find out who she is and where she's come from. See she's given refreshments.”

He glances at the kindergarten teacher. “Eve, it might be best if you accompany them. Try to keep her calm. Gabriel, you too. Jacob, come with me to my office.”

The colonel hauls me to my feet, gripping me by my bound wrists and the neck of my hoodie. The fucking hoodie that got me into this mess. There’s something dismissive about it, and it raises my hackles even more than they already are. I’m not a person, just an unfortunate mistake. A problem to be dealt with.

And whatever this place is, I doubt they’re going to deal with “the problem” by sending me home with an apology.

Fury lends strength to my muscles. Fuck them. And fuck this asshole yanking on my wrists in particular. I won’t be able to escape, but I’m not going to make it easy for him. I bend forward, as far as the hoodie will allow, then launch myself backward. This time, I connect. Pain radiates through my skull, but it must have been worse for him.

The colonel grunts, a satisfying sound of shock and pain, and his hand leaves my hoodie, wrapping around my throat. He yanks me against his chest and grinds out, “Behave yourself. You’ll learn your place here.”

Learn my fucking place? I twist against his grip. I don’t have much movement in the leg shackles but manage to kick back, connecting with his shin. His grunt this time is more anger than pain, and his hand tightens on my neck. “Settle the fuck down, or else I’ll…”

“Brackis.” It’s Jacob, suddenly very close. His intimidating presence and the harsh warning in his voice stop me dead. “It’s not her fault you cocked this up. If you can’t control a tiny girl without choking her, it’s time to retire.”

Brackis freezes, the tension in his muscles harsh against my back. He wants to argue, I can tell, but doesn’t dare. He’s the one who caused this mess, after all. Jacob stands in front of me, addressing me directly for the first time. He seems like a different man than he did just moments ago. All his anger has been wiped out and replaced with calm authority.

“Fighting isn’t going to help, but I promise you won’t be harmed. Go with Eve and Gabriel. They’ll ask you some questions, and you need to answer them truthfully. That’s all you need to focus on for now. Can you do that for me?”

I pull again against the colonel’s grip, but it’s no use. I can’t move. There’s no escape. I can’t even ask a question through the stupid gag. I let out one last, frantic yell, then meet Jacob’s green gaze. I won’t be harmed. Can I trust him? There’s absolutely no reason to think I can, and yet the look on his face is sincere.

And really, what choice do I have? I nod. Jacob lets out a long breath.

The colonel doesn’t answer as he marches me off. I almost stumble but soon get used to the tiny, shuffling steps and keep my head high. I won’t give these assholes the satisfaction of seeing me fall.

Chapter Four

Jacob

I almost lost it.

I follow Kendrick woodenly into his office, taking deep breaths and counting in the way Grandad taught me all those years ago, In—one, two, three. Out—four, five, six. Over and over.

It's been a long time since I lost control of myself. Today isn’t going to be that day, no matter what.

Kendrick holds the door open for me, then shuts it with a resounding click as I make my way over to his desk and thump down in one of his uncomfortable chairs. I can feel every beat of my heart. Blood is pumping through my veins faster than it should be, and I need it to slow down. The most important thing is a clear head.

“Brandy or whisky?” Kendrick asks, brandishing two decanters. At this point, I’d take neat vodka, but I bite down a sharp comment and say, “Whisky.” He hands me the glass, and I down half of it in one go. It burns going down but doesn’t calmme as I was hoping. If anything, the slight buzz sets me more on edge.

I wait in silence. Most people can’t abide a silent room, and it makes them weak negotiators. They’ll say anything just to break an awkward silence. Me? I’ll stay silent for days if I have to. Kendrick can say whatever the hell he needs to say.

He takes a large swallow of his own drink, sets it down on his enormous desk, then takes a deep breath. “Jacob. I can’t apologize enough. In the six years I’ve led the Brotherhood, we’ve never had an incident like this. Not once. It’s our mistake, and we’ll rectify it as soon as reasonably possible. You’ll have your desired Ward.”

I finish my drink, and the heat swirls through me. I rarely touch spirits outside of Kendrick’s office, and I never drink enough to lose my senses. I’ve seen what it does to people too many times. Right now, though, I can see the appeal of flooring the entire bottle.

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