Page 70 of Savage Sin

“Rage never was good at asking for help.”

Ares has a certain timbre that doesn’t hide how pissed off he is any more than Dragon tries to hide his. The one named Reaper is beside him and looks like he’s a keeper of secrets. Interesting. He’s keeping something from everyone and the more he looks at Rage, the more I think he knew where we were this whole time.

Rage lifts a shoulder, and it costs him in the pain department, but he doesn’t seem to let it take control over him. “It’s easier that way. Less casualties.” His voice is strangled.

A wave of curses flows over the tight-knit group.

“Rome Sokolov, why did you think you had to do this on your own? That isn’t how we work,” Riot clips out.

Oh, hold up. I hit a mental rewind. Rome Sokolov. Rage’s real name. I roll it over in my mind and savor the sound. Sokolov. Names filter through my mind until I pinpoint where I’ve heard the name before.

Horror washes over me, but I keep silent. I’ll have my turn.

“I know that, but I got him into this. Me and that shit, Euphoria. And he died on my watch. He was my blood.” Past monsters claw from the darkness and I can see his soul shredding in the broken slices of blue of his eyes.

“If anyone got him into anything, it was me.” Ares braces both hands on the end of the table. “He signed on and took the Savage cut because I asked him to. If anyone is to blame for your brother’s death, that comes to rest at my feet. Not yours.”

“Let’s back up a minute. What are we? Nothing to you?” Dragon holds his hand up with a look of defeat and confusion that mirrors the rest of the men. Puckered white catches my attention. A thick scar runs down the middle of his right hand. One that is identical to the one on Rage’s hand. To ground myself, I trace the line with the pad of my finger and he tightens his hand around mine. “You’re my brothers. Blood in, blood out. I remember. But I couldn’t risk anyone else dying. Fighting the Antonovs on one side and then the fucking Colombian cartels on the other. I haven’t forgotten about Society 69 either. Lilith is expecting us to do something about the information she gave us. We can’t take them all on. We would all be massacred.”

“I remember the name Sokolov.” I’ve had enough of seeing Rage looking defeated and if I can give him some kind of closure, then that is what I need to do.

“Do you remember him?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Rage. I stayed away from the enforcers. Your brother was the enemy to me. I had no idea who he was.”

“You said you remember the name.”

I can feel him pulling away from me. Trust is earned, I remind myself. I can only hope my next words go a long way in showing him I had nothing to do with his brother’s death.

I slip both my hands into his and twine our fingers together. “Not in the way you think. I need you to hear my words. I did not know your brother by name. But I was there when he died. A part of me left this world with him when it was his time. His…your brother…” I can’t bring myself to tell him the pain and agony his brother suffered before finding death.

“I said a prayer for him during his last moment.”

Unshed tears shimmer in Rage’s eyes, but I can no longer hold mine back. I let them fall for the man I couldn’t save and the one in front of me with his heart splayed open and bleeding.

“I was in the rooms beneath thehaciendawhen it happened.” I pull my wrist up and show the marks that haven’t faded from my skin. “They chained me to a wall. I wasn’t there because I wanted to be. You have to believe me.”

He looks at my scars on my inner thighs. “That was just one time he kept me in the darkness. Joaquin is a twisted man. He thought he could retrain me into being the breeder he wanted me to be when…”

I can’t find it in me to tell him just how broken of a person I am on the inside. I can smile, I can make love and have wild first-time sex. But I’m suddenly scared that I can’t offer a man like him who needs so much love to heal when I need just as much in return.

I tell them about my experience and the recurring nightmare, but leave out the parts that will wound him the deepest. He doesn’t need to know about the blood and torture. “I didn’t realize it was him until Riot said your real name. Sokolov.”

Somewhere behind me, I hear a clock ticking away the seconds of silence between Rage and myself.

All eyes are on me.

“Do you know who was in the room with him?” he asks.

I squeeze my eyes shut and listen for the voices that chase me into the night. “El Rusoand Cortes.”

“El Ruso,” Ares repeats. “This has gone from bad to worse.”

“Yes. Silas Antonov. He’s tying himself to my step-father even as we speak.”

“Those fuckers can’t seem to die off.”

I don’t know who goes off with the information I’ve shared. I’m not paying much attention to everyone else as they talk about killing and burying bodies.

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