One eye meets mine, the other swollen shut and he curls his lip, baring his teeth to me. The other three hang there like the limp dicks they are.
With a blade in my hand, I press the tip of it into my forefinger, swirling the razor edge against the skin until a bead of blood wells to the surface and streaks down my finger. I ensure I hold my weight even though my muscles scream and protest, I don’t show a weakness. Not in front of the enemy.
“I didn’t think we would be seeing each other so soon, Griffin,” I say calmly, sitting myself in the chair that’s been placed directly in front of the bodies. I survey them. They look like animals, strung up for the slaughter, each one broken in some way.
“Fuck you, Silver.”
I tut, sucking my tongue against my teeth, “You had even me fooled,” I continue, “That’s not an easy task so I will applaud you there.”
“She wasn’t supposed to be there,” he hisses, “she was supposed to be on the balcony!”
I shake my head, “You Valentines’ are always making mistakes.”
“And what about you, huh, Silver? You’re the reason Valentine has her!”
I stand abruptly, my fury boiling, “No, Griffin, you are. She was safe with me until you went and fucking blew up my club!”
“You really believe I would have left her with you?” Griffin sneers, “You’re a fucking monster and she is innocent. She doesn’t belong in this war.”
“I really thought you’d be on her side, but you’ve been Valentine’s little bitch this entire time.”
“I have no loyalty to Valentine. I did what was necessary to get her away from you.”
“And that didn’t work out so well did it.”
Griffin doesn’t answer. I wonder how much he knows. Did he know the Syndicate had her shot only moments before he detonated those explosives? Does he know I held her bleeding body in my arms when he pressed the fucking button? Does he know where she is?
I retake my seat, kicking up my leg until my ankle rests on my knee, pushing down all those thoughts, calming the raging sea of emotions rising like a wave inside me. I pull at the cuffs of my white shirt, straightening the sleeves and then I twist the leather cuffs around my wrists, making sure the silver emblems are facing upwards. On one is a feather, a recent edition to honor my little bird, on the other, a wolf. Fierce. Loyal. Deadly and cunning. I hadn’t worn them in a long time, an old Silver tradition I didn’t see fit in the now however, I had recently changed my stance. We had never been defeated before and every Silver before me wore their cuffs like crowns. I would be no different.
Griffin watches me through his one good eye.
“Tell me Griffin,” I drop my arms, linking my hands over my stomach as I lean back in the chair. I’m moving too much, disturbing my stitches, causing my joints to twitch and roll and jump, lighting fires under my skin as the pain bursts through my body. “Did you get a good look at what you had done? You claim to care for Wren and yet you blew up the building she was in.”
“Fuck you, Silver, I care more for her than you ever will. You dragged her into this war, what happens to her now is entirely your fault.”
“You’re correct,” I nod once, “I brought her into this, but I wasn’t the one who handed her to her father. Valentine has plans for her, what are those?”
“You assume she is still alive.”
Those words turn my blood to ice, it freezes inside my veins and causes my heart to slow down enough to make me truly believe I may pass out. She’s not dead. She can’t be. A roaring begins in my ears, so furious it drowns all else out as images of her body, pale, broken and dead flashes inside my head.
Not my little bird. Not my Wren.
I don’t show any of that though. I don’t show the emotion on my face or in my body as I lean forward, dropping my leg to the floor as I rest my elbows on my knees and rest my head in my hand, feigning boredom.
“Is she not alive, Griffin?”
The words are acid on my tongue, leaving a vile taste in my mouth. She wasn’t dead. Valentine was using her for something, and he needed her alive. After everything that has been done to get her away from me and into his clutches, there is no way he’s killed her. Unless she didn’t survive the gunshot and the explosion. Panic claws its way into my chest. It is entirely possible that she did not survive.
His nostrils flare.
I grit my teeth as the next words spew from my mouth, “Tell me, come on, tell me how Valentine broke her so bad and dumped her body somewhere. Paint the picture for me. Tell me she is now just a corpse, rotting in a ditch somewhere.”
He doesn’t say a word.
He can’t lie. Not about this and his silence is louder than any words he can speak. Wren isn’t dead.
I truly believe he cares for Wren, in a twisted, fucked up kind of way. He wanted to get her away from me, but he hadn’t banked on the Syndicate getting their shot in first. He hadn’t banked on her being so damaged afterwards she was easy picking for her father.
He wanted to destroy me, my men, so he could get to her himself, but shit doesn’t always work out the way we plan.
“Your silence is awfully loud,” I stand, “and now I need some information from you.” I flick the tip of the knife towards him, using it to point, “we can make this easy, you just need to talk.”
“She will hate you for this,” he growls.
“She might, but ultimately, she’ll forgive me. Do you want to know why, Griffin?”
He doesn’t answer but his teeth grind together, his fingers twitching above his head.
“Because I have her heart, Griffin. She chooses me.Me.”