Page 121 of Mimic
I turned around and faced my president. Casting a quick glance at Bane, I didn’t know how to read the rage I saw on his face.
“How?” Bane asked. “How the fuck did you get branded without any of us knowing?”
“August, please sit and let Thorne explain,” my mother said, pulling on Bane’s arm.
I grabbed my T-shirt and threw it on over my head. I ran my finger over my cut and hesitated. I didn’t know if I had the right to put it back on. Not until I told them everything.
I looked up at King. “Put that fucking cut on your back.”
“Let me tell you—”
“My fucking officers will wear their cuts in church until I tell them to take the motherfucking thing off.”
I swallowed my protest and did as I was told. Indie helped me put it on and rubbed my back as I sat in my chair next to my mother.
“Rose and I were ten years old when Dakota Stone knocked on our door and took our mother from us. We stayed in our house for a few weeks, waiting for her to come back. When thelandlord showed up looking for the rent, he had no idea who we were. Thinking we were homeless kids, he chased us out.”
I looked over at my sister. Cash had her in his lap, his arms cocooned around her as she cried. I knew this wasn’t any easier for her than it was for me.
“We lived on the streets for months. Eating out of garbage cans, stealing what we could. I left Rose hidden away while I went to get food. It wasn’t the first time I had made her stay back. And until the day I die, I will never know if I made the right decision given everything that has happened to us both.
“I went looking for food. I’d done it more times than I could count. I had a routine. Specific places I went to. That was my mistake. That was how he found me.”
“Who?” Jack asked.
“Dakota Stone.”
“FUCK!” Bane slammed his hand on the table.
“August, please.” My mother rubbed his arm, trying to soothe him.
“Bane, if you can’t fucking control yourself, get the fuck out,” King said, his teeth clenched together.
“That’s my fucking son, King.”
King sat forward. “Either shut your fucking mouth or get the fuck out. He may be your son, but he’s my brother. I’ve known him a fuck of a lot longer than you have, and I’d like to hear the whole fucking story, so when I put the bounty out on Dakota’s fucking head, I can explain to his brothers that if they stand in my fucking way, they’re dead too.”
I stared at my president. My nose burned with tears I refused to shed. Indie leaned over and whispered, “I told you so.”
I barked out a small laugh. “You did.”
“Next time, listen to me.”
I brought her hand up and kissed it, and said, “Always.”
“Continue, Mimic,” Cash rasped.
I looked at my brothers. The men I had lied to and been so afraid to lose if they ever learned the truth. They were angry. Each of them sat with their hands fisted, knuckles turning white. But as I looked in their eyes, I knew their anger wasn’t directed at me. At least not yet.
“Dakota brought me to his father. He had stepped down as president, letting Montana take over so he had more time to spend with me.”
“What did he want with you?” Blade asked.
“He knew who my father was. He and Dakota made sure I knew my father was the reason I was there.” I kept my eyes on King. I couldn’t look at Bane. “At the time, I didn’t know who my father was. They never told me his name, only that he was the reason I was there. All I knew was that he was a Soulless Sinner. So when Nav told me his name was Justin Peterson, aka Shame, I had no reason to doubt him.”
“What did they do?” Gunner asked.
“They put me in a cell. Every day, Dakota would pull me out and beat the shit out of me in the name of training me. If he hurt me too much, usually breaking a bone, or causing stitches, George gave me time to heal, but that meant I spent days in the cell. He gave me books to read to pass the time. Medical journals.” I paused and looked at Bane. “Guess I know why now. Encyclopedias, math books. I’m not sure if he expected me to actually read them, but I had to do something to stay sane, because when he couldn’t beat on me, Dakota used other tactics to torture me.”
