Page 126 of Bitter Truths

“Sit.” He points to the chair beside his bed. “And tell me why you look like someone ran over your dog.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit. You’ve been crying. And you keep...” He gestures at my neck. “Stop touching your scent glands.”

I hadn’t even realized I was doing it.

“I wasn’t...”

“Yes, you were. Don’t pick at them, Bee. What’s going on?”

I sink into the chair and feel myself crumble.

“Whitney’s coming back tonight.” The words come out as a whisper. “Changed her flight. They have to go back to her.”

Winston’s expression sharpens. “And?”

“And they can’t get out of this, Winston. The bonds... Montgomery told them trying to break them will kill them.”

“And you believe that?”

“I don’t know what to believe.” I press my fingers to my neck again, and Winston’s hand shoots out to stop me.

“Stop that right fucking now. You’ll make yourself bleed.” His voice carries that sharp concern that means he’s switched into doctor mode. “Think about this logically. Would their fathers really agree to this if it would kill their heirs?”

“I don’t know. They’re allowing awful things to happen to them. Really, really awful. But you’re right, that doesn’t make sense.”

“It could be that Montgomery is a lying sack of shit and this is his way to keep them compliant.” Winston shifts forward. “Fear is a powerful motivator. And if they think resistance equals death...”

“But what if you’re wrong? What if trying to break the bonds really would kill them?”

“What if they spend the rest of their lives as prisoners because they’re too scared to find out?”

“What exactly did they tell you?”

“That they’ve tried to break them before. That the consequences were... horrible. They wouldn’t give me details, but Winston, they looked terrified. Traumatized.” My voice cracks.

“Pain doesn’t necessarily mean death.”

“But what if it does?” I lean forward, elbows on my knees. “They’ve been trying to find a way out for five years, Winston. And they’re no closer to freedom than when this started.”

“Bee, I don’t think they’re afraid of dying.” Winston’s voice is low. “They’re afraid of what happens to you if they’re gone. That fear makes them easy to control.”

His eyes meet mine.

“What can I do? I can’t tell them to risk their lives based on a theory.”

“You could give them more information to work with. Help them make an informed decision instead of one based on fear.”

“Like what?”

Winston is quiet for a moment, studying my face. “Have you told them what we talked about? About the pre-bond and scent match?”

My stomach drops. “No.”

He looks at me pointedly.

“I’m scared.” The admission comes out quiet.