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From my position in the far corner on the hard dirt floor of the basement, I scan around myself desperately.
The lighting is harsh from a single bare bulb across the unfinished walls and my beautiful mate who’s been tied to the stark, single piece of furniture in the room.
Thomas’ wrists are tightly tied to the arms of the chair, while his ankles are bound to the legs. Rope also snakes around his torso and thighs like a boa constrictor
I grew up seeing rival pack members, along with Betas from my own pack (and sometimes Vito), tied up like this.
Usually, they were waiting for Dad to deal with them.
If they were really unlucky, then they were waiting for the triplets.
Today, both Dad and the triplets are here.
We’re fucked.
Thomas’ jacket and waistcoat have been slung onto the bottom step. His shirt has been ripped open to the waist. He’s sitting composed like he’s bored and unaffected, but I can see how rapidly his chest is rising and falling.
Vito, on the other hand, isn’t trying to hide how freaked out he is or how furious.
“Fuck you.” Vito struggles with two of the triplets, Bianca and Ludovica, who are holding him in their grip.
The triplets are tall with muscled arms and broad shoulders. They’ve trained for years to become the pack’s enforcers and illegal fighting ring champions, and it shows.
They’re stronger than Vito.
Their black hair is twisted into elaborate braids. Matching snake tattoos are inked on their hands. My sisters are dressed in punky blue mesh shirts and black jeans.
They hold Vito with his wrists twisted painfully behind his back.
“It’s sweet how you try to fight us, as if you actually could,” Bianca mockingly coos, stroking Vito’s back. He flinches. “It makes it much more fun, when we break you.”
“Our precious baby brother.” Ludovica grabs Vito by his hair, wrenching back his head.
“Leave him alone,” I cry.
“Don’t, Dy,” Vito manages to gasp. “They’re only p-p-playing. It d-d-doesn’t hurt.”
Bianca laughs, twisting his arms more cruelly.
My eyes smart with tears.
They’re only playing.
It’s what Vito told me, when I found him being held down on the floor by the triplets for the first time, when we were kids.
I cried and demanded that they leave him alone.
Afterwards, I asked if it truly didn’t hurt, when the triplets crushed his face against the floor.
Vito’s eyes were red rimmed like he’d been crying, but he told me that it didn’t.
He said the same all the other times.
For years, I pretended to believe him, until I couldn’t any longer.
Our gazes meet across the basement. It’s agonizing to see the despair in Vito’s eyes.
Did he ever believe that he could escape the Snake pack for good?
