Page 53 of Bottoms
Of course, Hannah would find a way to lighten the depravity of the opposite night and turn it into a chance for women all over New York to have a place to watch men strip for them. The club was packed, proving that her system was at least working from a business standpoint.
Good for her.
“Let’s check Tanner’s office,” Colten suggested as he started to pull me towards the loft.
The two guards moved out of Colten’s way, giving him a nod. We headed into the dark stairwell with twinkling lights that looked like the stars in the night sky. Moving up, it felt like I was entering a different place. Far away from New York.
Colten opened the door to the loft, then gestured for me to go through. We made our way to Tanner’s office, and a nervous flutter started in my stomach. Preventing me from being the one to turn the handle and open the door. Colten reached out for me, but the lock refused his touch. I tried afterward, looking over to Colten with confusion.
His eyes mirrored my thoughts, and he looked around to the curved hallway with eight doors. I followed his gaze and noticed all the lights shone red except one.
“I think he wants us to see something in there,” I whispered.
Colten crept to the door, his right hand slightly behind him. Where he kept his gun. I had watched him put it in its holster before leaving his car in the garage. He opened it to reveal an empty room. The room beyond the glass was illuminated in white light, and Tanner sat with his white shirt ripped open and bleeding from several gashes in his chest.
My feet surged me forward until I pressed against the glass. Banging my fist as I called out to Tanner. He was tied to the chair, his head hung low and unmoving. His dark hair covered his features, and I couldn’t tell if he was alive.
The light in the room with Tanner turned off. Speakers hummed to life in my room as the spark of a lighter sounded through them. A small flame flashed to life in the corner of the room where Tanner was before the red glow of a cigarette replaced it.
My heart thudded, and I wondered what had happened to make Fynn go this far. This was worse than Colten driving me back to campus.
“Now that we are all present for the meeting,” Fynn started, his voice coming through the speakers. The spotlight turned on beyond the glass, just in time to see Fynn dumping a bucket of ice water on Tanner’s head.
Tanner woke up with a gasp, struggling against his restraints. He seemed just as confused about waking up tied to a chair in the loft as he was about the cuts in his chest.
“This is why you can’t keep her,” Tanner snarled to Fynn. “She’s going to fuck up one day, and you will take it too far. You never could control yourself without a firm, commanding hand. That’s why your father made you go into the military when you were eighteen, and that’s why you lost your place in the Arsenal.”
I pressed against the glass. I wished I could be in the same room to calm Fynn down before he killed Tanner.
“You don’t even know what you’re talking about,” Fynn laughed, like he thought Tanner’s psychoanalysis was as stupid as something Freud would say.
I looked back to see what Colten was doing, but after doing a circuit of the room, I realized I was alone. In fact, I hadn’t seen him since I rushed in. Before Fynn showed up in the room.
I cussed, banging on the glass, knowing that Fynn should at least be able to hear. Tanner’s gaze snapped in my direction, and Fynn smiled as he pulled out his phone and pressed the screen a few times. It started several feet down from me on the curved wall. A light appeared, and I saw Nik standing at a glass wall like mine. Our eyes met, and he started banging on the glass loud enough for me to hear.
A sense of dread washed over me before another room illuminated, revealing a crumpled black heap on the floor in front of the glass pane.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Fynn said, turning on the light in my room. “Colten’s used to getting laid on his ass and knocked out for a few minutes. He’ll be awake for the main event,” Fynn said, looking at me through the glass. The look in his eyes was wild, and my stomach bottomed out.
“Please don’t do this, Fynn,” I begged.
He turned his back on me, and I started pounding against the glass again as I screamed repeatedly. He ignored me, making his way back to Tanner.
“I think it’s time we get a few things settled,” Fynn growled. Flipping open a knife after pulling it from the pocket of his jeans to make another shallow cut across Tanner’s chest. “This is what’s going to happen every time one of you assholes pulls a gun on me,” he said, turning back to face his audience.
“Shit,” I breathed. Hanging my head as I tried to rummage through my mind on what to do.
“Oh, wait. Colten didn’t get to hear that part. Hold on, just a moment. It looks like he’s coming around.”
I watched the black mass shift as Colten slowly sat up and stood. Pushing his glasses back up as his gaze narrowed on Fynn. His hand moved to the back of his head, rubbing a spot like he had been hit from behind, which explained why he was unconscious.
“Three cuts every time you pull a gun on me, Colten. Great, now you are caught up,” Fynn said, pointing the tip of the curved blade toward the room where Colten was held captive.
“So rule number one for the Dark Arsenal; don’t point guns at Fynn because it makes him flip out, alright,” Fynn said, looking more unhinged than I had ever seen him before.
Then it all clicked. Fynn must be fighting a PTSD reaction whenever someone pulled a gun on him. I wasn’t sure if it had something to do with his time in the service or a result of being part of a dangerous lifestyle, but Fynn couldn’t control his actions when he had a gun pointed at him.
Except he seemed to be able to control himself well enough when it came to me.
