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His knuckles whiten, as he clutches at the chair to control the pain.
I leap up, ready to rush to push Dad away, before he can hurt Thomas again.
“Stop it!” I scream.
I’m trembling.
Dad doesn’t look away from Thomas, fixed on the blood that’s dribbling down his cheek. “Silence, Omega, or I’ll turn my gun around and shoot. You know this game.”
“Don’t touch her,” Thomas mumbles. His words are slurred. “Leave her alone.”
Thomas’ eyes are dazed.
Shit, Dad hit him hard.
I’m breathing rapidly.
I back against the cold wall because it’s the only way that I can be certain I won’t break and run toward Thomas.
He needs me.
It tears through our fate bond.
I bite my lip to force myself not to speak.
Dad means it. He’ll shoot.
Pain — agony — surges through the bond.
Yet there’s something else as well, which I can sense from Thomas. He’s confused and struggling to think clearly because of the blow from the pistol. But am I only imagining the calmness underneath that he’s trying to radiate to me?
Please, fucking please, let Thomas have a plan.
At least let Ghost and Lincoln find that we’re missing and rescue us.
Except, will that only end in them being killed?
“What’s with these dramatics?” Dad’s eyes narrow. “You don’t need to pretend that you care for each other. A Snake can never love a Saint, or is it that a Saint can never love a Snake? You’re having hysterics, but the deputy mayor here looks like he’s carved from ice.”
Thomas blinks, as if he’s trying to struggle to focus through the concussion to answer but can’t get the words straight in his mind.
It breaks my heart.
Dad has no idea how fucking wrong he is.
“Dad, what do you want?” Vito demands. “You promised that you wouldn’t pull this shit and come after Thomas.”
Thomas looks startled for the first time, groggily attempting to turn his head to look at me.
“But did he promise not to come after you?” Dad turns his gun to once more hold it by its handle like he’s considering whether to use it or not.
Bianca twists Vito’s arm more harshly behind his back, and he howls. “Silence, or I’ll break it.”
Ludovica cards her fingers through Vito’s hair, as he shudders with the effort of holding in the pain. “You know this game too.”
This is what it’s like in the Snake pack: sadistic games.
Dad’s smiling, as he watches his daughters play with their Alpha brother, dominating him.
