Page 63 of Tainted Serenity

I should feel bad for Daxton being in the same room as the two of us, but I can’t find myself to care. It makes it all the more thrilling, knowing we can be caught with our stolen glances and silent desire just waiting for the right moment to be released, lingering in the air.

He starts cleaning my wound, and a hiss escapes me from the burning pain as I grip the armrest until my knuckles turn white from the force, remembering doing the exact same motion with Grey. It’s both fucked and erotic to think about our intimate moment in this situation.

The silence descends over us as Daxton tries to fix me up, and I notice Grey restraining himself as if he can’t physically handle another man so close to me, while also noticing his concern hiding behind his eyes. He hates to see me hurt. My monster cares for me in ways no one has ever cared about me before.

It’s weird being in the same room as both Grey and Daxton, now knowing the truth that Daxton is the brother who betrayed Grey all those months ago. I’m not sure how to feel about that, and neither of them has brought it up again, pretending as if none of this happened.

“You have to get out of here,” Daxton finally speaks, shocking both Grey and me as his voice penetrates the silence as if it’s a force stronger than any bulletproof vest.

“We know,” Grey says, his voice draped with sarcasm and something akin to suspicion.

Daxton continues to stitch up my wound, as he has done so many times before. I cannot help but wonder about his background, but I won’t push him, precisely like he hasn’t pushed me. The past should remain the past, and what truly matters is the presence.

“Look,brother,”Grey spits out, a scoff in his voice, along with the familiar cling of sarcasm. “Appreciate your thoughts. But we have already tried. And failed–miserably.”

He cocks an eyebrow, a suspicious glint to his expression as his magnificent sapphire eyes narrow. I know Grey is only saying that because he doesn’t trust Daxton, which is understandable. Can we really trust a man who was supposed to be Grey’s brother, his own blood, who betrayed him? Daxton’s words echo inside my mind like an overbearing tornado, refusing to relent until I don’t know what to feel or how to act.

At last, Daxton finishes stitching up my wound before turning his head toward Grey, still crouching down in front of the chair as his dark hair hangs ruffly above one eye.

“Yeah, well, you don’t know the place like I do.”

That spikes my interest, and I sit up a little higher in the chair, my muscles straining from the position I’m holding them in.

“What are you implying?” My voice is a mere whisper, confusion striking me at his words.

My mind is a storm of thoughts as they swirl chaotically, making it impossible to grasp a single one.

“I’m an employer here, remember?”

With eyes flicking between Grey and Daxton, I wait for one of them to react. Daxton’s words make no sense, yet at the same time, they make perfect sense, making it all the more confusing within me.

“You’re saying there’s a way out of here?” I mumble, my heart beating like a madman inside my ribcage, desperately trying to break free from the confines.

Can I really trust he has become my friend during all the months spent here? Do I even dare put my life in another person’s hands all over again, knowing it can very well end in my death?

As he bites his lip, he appears to be in deep thought, contemplating whether he should tell me the truth or not, before he slowly nods his head. My insides are like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path before there is nothing left to devour.

“Why haven’t you helped others before?” I whisper, not quite certain what I am feeling at the moment.

It’s an emotion of hurt, betrayal, and relief all mixed into one concoction, all the while feeling confused on why he hasn’t saved other innocent people stuck in this dollhouse like Esther, who seems to have been here a much longer time than I.

Daxton looks at me as if he can see the very core of my being, revealing all my faults and deepest secrets. “I never found anyone worth helping,” he says with calculated, cold words that send a chill down my spine. “Until now.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he didn’t just reveal the possibility of an escape.

I have so many questions raging war inside my head, but I settle on one. “Why?”

He seems to contemplate the answer before looking at me with a puzzled expression. “I care about you, Naya. I want you to have a shot at freedom.” He shoots an annoyed look at Grey when he grumbles under his breath. “And you too, Grey. I was never a good brother to you, used you, and then disposed of you, and I can’t say I regret it. I have changed, but you were never supposed to end up here. I made a deal with the devil, and he broke it. It’s time he pays.”

His words settle like a heavy stone inside my stomach, and I give him a curt nod. There’s a way out of here? The brief flicker of hope is a dangerous, lethal emotion, something I definitely should not be feeling. Hope will, in more cases than not, kill you, defeat you until you slip away into the unknown from the sheer desperation of something more.

I cannot afford hope, yet I feel it. It’s as though a light has been ignited within my blackened, devastated soul. A flame that cannot be extinguished, no matter how many times you try to dose it with a fire extinguisher.

“I’ve heard the other staff talk,” Daxton reveals, swallowing before he continues. “Something horrible is going to happen. Something worse than before, but I don’t know what. And after Grimhill Manor burned down–”

At this point, my heart pounds so hard that I can physically feel the impact of it, blood rushing in my ears and obstructing my hearing. The room spins around me, and I’m forced to prop myself against the chair when the dizziness turns into something that makes nausea take over. I’m spiraling down a bottomless pit, a well that will ruin my entire being at that place he mentioned.

Someone stands before me, a finger lifting my chin until I’m looking into eyes that make me drown from unwelcome yet fluttering feelings.

“Look at me, yeah?” His lips move, and though I cannot hear his words, I still decipher them. “You’re okay. Let my voice ground you.” His voice finally erupts through the fog of my mind, and I hear him clearer. “There you go, my good girl.”

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