Page 48 of Blood of the Saints

After regaining consciousness, remembering what just happened, she scurries away from me as fast as she can and brings her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “You’reallfucking sick.” She hiccups, a sob hitching her voice. Her entire body shakes while the heavy wet clothes hang from her body. Blood mixes with water as I look at her arm where Ace shot her, only adding to the list of shit we’ve done to her.

Tonight was the first time I’ve seen true, undeniable fear in her ocean eyes, and I fucking hate it. Watching her freak out like her world was going to end, felt like tiny shards of glass puncturing my heart. I like seeing her in pain, but only when she’s enjoying it. Only when I know she’s reveling in the intensity of it, getting off on the torture.

She stares at each of us—a mixture of rage and fear burning in her eyes—but remains silent. Her entire body is convulsing, but she’s putting on a cold front, trying to pretend she didn't just almost die at our hands.

“Get up. You’re fine,” Ace demands coldly. His eyes are glazed over, but not as hard as they usually are. I look for any sense of guilt, finding a sliver before he masks it, feigning boredom. I shoot my brother a glare, hoping he can feel my wrath.

Ace is ruthless, but I’ve never seen him like this before. Something about Zamira gets under his skin. He’s desperately trying to pretend like she’s a nuisance and nothing more, but he’s only lying to himself.

“You should’ve let me drown. It would’ve been better that way,” she whispers, not looking at any of us. Honestly, I’m not even sure if she’s talking to us right now. Her eyes are unfocused and she’s shivering from the cool air hitting her soaked body.

The detached look in her eyes makes me think she’s stuck in the past. Physically she’s here, but mentally she’s checked out. I guess we got what we wanted, to break her mentally just as much as we could physically. Unfortunately, it doesn’t feel as satisfying as I initially imagined.

We asked Josh to find something we could use against her, and, boy, he delivered. When Zamira was ten, she and her family were in a terrible accident. The car flew over the rail of a bridge, sinking quickly in the river, leaving only Zamira alive.Honestly, the fear of water from the accident was just a guess. We thought it would scare her into remembering what happened to her family so it seemed like a good plan. The second Josh told us about the accident, Ace already had his mind made up about what he wanted to do to her. This was his idea.

I move toward her, but she doesn’t react or even say anything snarky. The initial fight she had after waking up, seems to be missing. She lets me pick her up and take her back to the basement. Her tiny body shakes uncontrollably against me, but she remains quiet. I’m not sure if it’s from the cool air or the shit we just put her through, but I don’t like her like this.

I know Ace and Theon are probably patting themselves on their backs right now, but seeing her like this makes me sick.

I’m the craziest of us three, but I also have a bleeding heart. I fucking hate it. I wish I didn’t feel anything or at least I wish I could push it down and pretend it doesn’t exist. Because right now, my heart is bleeding out for the beautiful blonde we just shattered.

Zamira stirs in my arms, pulling my attention to her. My eyes catch on her lips that have a blue tint to them instead of their usual natural pink color.

“Why did you have to save me?” Her broken voice filters in my ears, forcing my hold to tighten on her body. The fact that she’d rather us kill her than keep her here any longer speaks volumes to how much damage we’ve caused.

“We haven’t had enough time yet, darling.” Whether that’s enough time to torture her or fall even more under her spell, I’m not sure, but ultimately it’s the truth.

Fuck.Would my brothers have let her die?

Probably. It’s not like they don’t plan on doing it eventually. I should be in on their plan, but there’s something about her that it hurts, even thinking about it. I’ve got to figure out a way to keep her or at least prolong the inevitable.

The obsession Ace was worried about is here, and I can’t stop it. It’s taken over my body like a virus.

Her eyes are closed and her head lies gently against my chest. Her intimate contact makes my body still, recoiling from the overwhelming sensation, but I ignore it in order to get her cleaned up. Her skin is paler than usual, she’s soaking wet, and she looks exhausted, but she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on. It feels good to have her in my arms, but not like this.

I turn around, using my back to open the door to her cell that Ace left unlocked when he took her out. Gently setting her on the bed, I grab the change of clothes Ace must’ve put in here, tossing them beside her.

She just stares right through them like they aren’t even there. I grab the hem of her wet shirt and start pulling it up. Surprisingly, she lifts her arms, letting me peel it off. I throw the wet material to the ground, quickly covering her back up with the dry, clean shirt.

I pull her up to stand so I can remove her soaking sweats. I’ve thought countless times about getting her out of my sweats that we keep giving her, but this isn’t how I pictured it. Once they’re in a pile on the floor, I bend down and pat her leg, motioning for her to lift her foot so I can put her leg through the hole of the new pair.

Nothing about this is sexual, but her bare fucking pussy is level with my eyes, giving me the perfect view. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t turned on right now.

When I get both feet through, I stand, sliding the oversized sweats over her hips, rolling them so they stay up on her tiny frame. She sits on the edge of the bed, and I look over her arm where Ace shot her, rage boiling in my body. Standing quickly, I take a risk running to the bathroom to grab the first-aid kit, hoping she won’t move by the time I get back.

Ace will have my head for this, but I don’t give a shit right now.

Grabbing the kit, I head back to the cell to find her in the exact same spot I left her, staring at the wall with a blank gaze. She hasn’t even moved a muscle. I lift her sleeve, quickly patting away any moisture on her arm. The cut doesn’t need stitches, but it does need to be glued. After cleaning the wound with antiseptic, I apply the adhesive glue, pushing the edges of the wound together. I apply three layers of the glue just to be safe, to make sure it doesn’t open back up, before wrapping a bandage cloth around her arm. The entire time she doesn’t wince or even move, it’s like she’s in another world right now. The only thing letting me know she’s still alive is her controlled blinking, leaving only the hollow look in her eyes in the balance.

I caress her cheek, gently rubbing my thumb over her soft skin. “I’m done, darling. You’re all set.”

No response.

Zamira curls up in a ball on her bed, turning to face the wall. She’s not shaking anymore, but her breathing hasn’t slowed and her eyes are clenched shut.

All I want to do right now is comfort her, but I know from experience that comfort doesn’t mean shit when you know the pain is going to keep coming.

I turn, leaving her alone in the cell.

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