Then it hits me.
Those fucking little assholes.
I clench my jaw and take a deep breath. I’ll deal with them as soon as I have her settled. I help her wash, stripping her down as we go, then wash and rinse her hair. “We need to get out now, okay?”
She nods, and I lift her from the bath, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her. Doing this fully clothed wasn’t the greatest idea, but there’s no way I was stripping down and climbing into a bath with her naked when she’s like this. Once I pat her hair dry and drop her robe around her shoulders, I climb out of my clothes and quickly wrap a towel around my waist. “I’ll be back in two seconds, okay?”
She looks up at me with those big brown eyes of hers and just blinks.
I run to the spare room, which I know probably still has some of Stone’s old shit in it, and grab a pair of sweats. I throw them on and rush back to her, finding her sitting where I left her, staring down at her cut up hands.
I contemplate whether I should ask her to walk but think better of it and pick her back up in my arms and carry her to her room. “Let’s get you dressed and back into bed.”
She blinks at me as I sit her on the stool by her dresser before I rush into her closet, grabbing a pair of leggings and a tank for her. I don’t bother with underwear. She needs to sleep, and sleeping in a bra doesn’t sound like a good time.
I finish getting her dry and help her into the clothes, but she’s still shaking like a leaf.
Blood will be spilled today.
“Let’s get you into bed, okay?” Her eyes go wide, and she shakes her head, clinging to me like I’m her only lifeline. Right now, I just might be.
It suddenly hits me that she was probably asleep when they dragged her from the room. Fucking hell.
“I have another idea, okay?” She calms a little and sags against me. “Can you walk?”
She blinks up at me again, still fully mute, and I swear to God I see fucking red.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
I gather her into my arms and walk through the house, not bothering to lock it up. I’ll deal with that later. Right now, my sole priority is her. I walk barefoot and half dressed across her yard with her lying against my chest. Crossing onto my property, I see Maverick leaving the house. My eyes narrow at him as shock registers on his face.
I’ll deal with that twisted little asshole later. I keep her held against my chest as I pad into the house, up the stairs, and to my room. “You can sleep here today, okay? You’re safe in here.”
She nods, and I tuck her into my bed, drawing the curtains closed to shroud the room in darkness. I leave a sliver of sunlight so she doesn’t freak out after being locked in that fucking closet all night.
“Cold.” The one word is all her scratchy voice manages, so I root through one of the drawers in my dresser and find her my old college hoodie. If the situation were different, seeing her in my hoodie would do things to me, but right now, I just want to look after her.
I pull it over her head, helping her slip her arms into it, and tuck her back in once she’s basically drowning in the sweater.
“Thank you,” she sighs as she closes her eyes. “Don’t leave.”
There’s no way on this fucking earth I’m going to deny her a damn thing, so I climb on top of the sheets on the other side of the bed, giving her space. But then she rolls over and tucks herself into my chest and closes her eyes again. It doesn’t take long for her breathing to slow, and I’m sure she’s so exhausted she has no option but to sleep. I don’t know how long she’ll actually manage to rest after what happened last night, so I settle in for the long haul, stroking her hair.
I’ll deal with those little fuckers later.
* * *
I leave Octavia sleeping in my room. Her sleep has been anything but restful, and my rage has done nothing but simmer and grow all day in response. By the time I manage to slip away, darkness is falling. I find Linc in the game room. I grab the nearest thing I can find and launch it at the TV. I’d rather it be his head, but I’d also prefer to make him bleed with my own fists than the random trophy I launched.
“What the actual fuck?” he roars, jumping to his feet and turning, finding me standing behind him. I don’t even care that the TV is busted up and he looks spitting mad. His anger has nothing on my pulsing rage.
“What the fuck? What the fuck? You have got to be shitting me, Linc. I know you’re not asking me what the fuck I just did becausewhat the actual fuck did you do?” I’m practically foaming at the mouth, shaking where I stand. I stay where I’m standing because I know if I move toward him, I’ll beat his idiotic face in.
The cold persona that he uses on everyone else washes over him, and he transforms from my little brother into Lincoln Saint, the boy genius who isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. The kid that makes fully grown men piss themselves. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I pick up the closest thing to hand, a glass vase, and launch that at him too. He ducks quickly enough that it doesn’t hit him, but it still smashes to shards on the wall behind him. “Don’t feed me your bullshit company line, Linc. I know you had a plan to get her to leave. I know you did this. You’ve gone too fucking far. She’s broken!”
Emotion flickers in his eyes, and I can see the doubt creep in. Despite my rage, there’s still a part of me that knows he’s trying to save her in his own way, but this is too fucking much. “You said you didn’t want to be a part of this. You don’t get to storm in now and tell me what I’ve done is wrong. Anyway I haven’t done anything to her for weeks. At least if she’s broken, she’ll leave. Better broken and alive…”