Page 75 of Six
And still, nobody is giving us answers.
“Sully, sit down, please. And Ollie, we can all see how much Rague means to you. You haven’t left his side for hours.” Meg smiles at me, making me blush. “We are just trying to understand what triggered his attack, not find a culprit,” she tries to assure the three of us.
But then Gabe says in his cold, inscrutable way, “Unless there’s a culprit here, in which case he’s a dead man walking.” His piercing eyes bore into mine. A very witty, snarky comment is on the tip of my tongue, but it doesn’t leave my lips.
“Take one step near him, and you’ll regret it.” Rague’s growly voice makes me jump, and I spin around. He’s standing in the doorway. “Near any of them,” he adds, glancing at Lori and Sully.
I hear the chair hitting the floor as I sprint toward him and close my arms around his huge torso. My face rubs on his warm, strong, broad chest, and I inhale deeply. He smells like his musky self again, and I feel so damn happy that something close to a low purr escapes my lips.
“Hey, kitty.” His hoarse, deep voice makes his chest vibrate against my cheek, and I’m so relieved to hear it again that I don’t mind the nickname—just this once. I love him, but I’m never going to change for anyone.
His bandage-wrapped hand rests awkwardly on my head while I feel his other sliding inside my sweats to possessively grab my butt.
“Are you okay?” he whispers, and there’s such gravity in his voice, I feel the need to soothe it any way I can.
“Now, I am.” I sigh happily, reining those stupid tears in while leaning back to give him a trembling smile. His curls are falling around his face in a wild mess, and his broody expression is back, although there’s a sweetness to it that wasn’t there before.
He captures my lips in a breathtaking, claiming, movie-scene-worthy kiss. I can feel the lust and dare I saylovein every sweep of his tongue. Never the passive one, unless it’s Rague’s cock I’m dealing with, I return the kiss with fervor, not caring about the sting from my split lip or our audience. He pulls back, and I notice how he’s heavily leaning against the doorframe. I’m mauling him instead of taking care of him. I’m such an idiot.
“Great. Now there’s another NC-17 couple in the family.” Rami’s sarcasm makes me smirk.
“What are you whining about? It’s hot. Papa Lori’s job is done.” My best friend waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Lori! That’s mega disturbing on so many levels.” Sully sounds disgusted, but then smiles at us. He seems to approve, and I feel the last of my anxiety leaving me.
Instead of sitting at the table again, I push Rague toward the sofa. It’s more comfortable for him. I fuss a bit around him, bringing a blanket, a bottle of water, and three energy bars—since that’s what he asked for.
The others have all moved to the living room as well. I sit next to Rague and draw my legs up, resting my knees on his lap under the blanket. His body bends toward me reflexively, and he pulls my knees and cuddles me closer, as he talks to Meg about how he feels. His mind is on the conversation, but his body wants me closer. Wants to touch me. A warm, fuzzy sensation starts to spread inside my chest.
Can a heart explode with happiness? Mine seems to be willing to try.
Silence falls on the room until Linda declares, “It’s time,” looking at Rague with an encouraging stare.
Gabe huffs, not looking very pleased, but he doesn’t add anything else. He moves near the window and looks out into the darkness.
Rague’s hand bumps mine, then folds around my fingers—his knuckles are red and swollen. My thumb brushes the raised scar on his wrist, and the number six burned on his skin once again makes me frown.
“It was my project number,” Rague says, staring at his wrist. “When I was a kid, I was kidnapped by two scientists who experimented on me. I was Subject Six.”
“W-what?” I hear myself asking. My brain halts, while my heart starts pounding inside my chest where a sense of dread is unfurling quickly.
“What do you mean experimented?” Lori asks from his seat on the thick rug near Sully.
“Mostly torture.” My mind goes to the scars on his back and behind his ear. “The goal was to create emotionless assassins that would follow orders without defiance. And they used a different method with each of us.”
Tears pool in my eyes. Then all his words register.Each of them?
“How many of you were there?” Sully’s voice is soft and hesitant.
“Seven.” Rague moves his eyes to the men surrounding us.
“All of you?” My eyes dart among them, and one by one they all show me their numbers. With Uri and Sari, they are seven in total. Michael is the only one who has it tattooed, but he explains he escaped before the scientists decided to brand them and got it later on.
“It’s a long story,” he finishes.
Rague is looking unseeingly at the fire and the red flames burning high from the darkening logs. “They chose us because we all showed psychotic traits, which disappeared in most of us as we grew older.”
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Lori says.
