“I have no doubt you will.” Libby offered her hand as she stood up.
Savage knew touching her was dangerous to both of them. He could read her almost as easily as she could read him, but he figured she already knew the worst of him, so why the hell not? Libby’s healing power was immense. It was tied to her sisters, giving her a huge well of energy to draw on should there be need. She gave him a sweet smile and left him there in the room to go join the others.
Savage considered trying to make a break for it out the back door, but he knew no matter what, he’d have to face Czar, and it was just better to get things over. He waited a little impatiently for him, staring out the window, watching Tyson open the door of his sleek Corvette for Libby. Tyson was a brainiac. The real deal. He also was a bit of an adrenaline junkie if the rumors were true, but the way he hovered over his wife showed he was definitely into her. Savage liked that. Libby Drake deserved a husband who loved her.
“You want to tell me what’s going on, Savage?” Czar greeted as he entered the room. It was an order.
Savage turned to face the man who had saved all of them—all the original members of Torpedo Ink. Without him, there would have been no survival. He didn’t pretend not to understand. He would never disrespect Czar that way.
“It’s a small talent I discovered as a child. I wanted to find a way to help you—to help everyone. I didn’t feel I had much to offer. I’d come back ripped to pieces and all of you would have to take care of me. I could feel your anger, the rage building in you because you felt so helpless. It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t stop what was happening, but you took it on your shoulders. Everything that was happening to each of us.”
“You were a fucking toddler, Savage, when they started on you,” Czar bit out.
Savage nodded. “I realize that. My world had been turned upside down. Reaper was in bad shape. They murdered my sisters. Everything around me was blood and pain. I needed to focus on something, and you were the only thing that made sense. You fought back. Even then, the idea of fighting back gave me hope when nothing else could. So I practiced on developing that talent because it was all I could do when I was so scared something would happen to you.”
“How could I not know?”
“Probably because I wasn’t very good at it,” Savage replied with a humorless smile, but the rage was building in his eyes. In his gut. Already he was pulling it from Czar in the way he had been doing all his life. There was no way to stop it, no way to control it—he’d been doing it since he was a little child. Too many years had gone by, and it was so ingrained in him he practically bled the rage from the others in steady streams.
“I had no way of knowing back then, although I think even as a child, I realized the tremendous amount of weight you carried. The basement was enormous, and many of the others were older. It was like a jungle down there with so many territories. Everyone owning their own piece, like gangs. You were the youngest and yet the strongest, holding one of the best spots. You had to make decisions, turning away children that wanted to be with us, children we wanted to have join our group. Sometimes we’d be angry about your decision. That was so hard on you, but in the end, you were always right about them. They ratted on everyone.”
Every day had been a lesson in survival. Czar had been so young and yet he’d guided them through the pitfalls of the older boys trying to steal food, encroach on the meager territory they had. Viktor had chosen what had seemed to the others as one of the worst spots in the basement, but it was below the kitchen and the ovens, so in the freezing of the winter, they had some heat. He planned out everything carefully and chose each person to join their group—only the ones he knew would stay loyal no matter what.
Czar studied Savage’s face for a long time. “I think you were very good at what you did, and you got even better as time went on. The girls you trained?”
Savage shook his head. “Physical pain isn’t the same as emotional, and by that time, they’d already conditioned me to need both from them. It was too late for me and them. I just had to get them to a place where they accepted what was happening to them.”