Page 33 of Bound Together


  Everyone was looking at him as if he could save the world. Including the kid.

  "I'm not asking her," he declared and got out of there.

  19

  "BABY, wake up," Viktor whispered softly. "You got any weapons in here?"

  Blythe blinked sleepily and shook her head at the same time, even as she pushed aside the blanket and sat up. The room was dark and Viktor sat on the edge of the bed, fully clothed. "What is it? You should be in bed with me." She made it an invitation.

  She'd slept naked, and it had taken her a long time to fall asleep. She'd thought so much about him, her body refused to stop burning, so she'd resorted to using her favorite toy. It barely had helped. In the end, she'd washed it and left it out on the small table beside the bed in the hopes that Viktor would get inventive.

  She leaned toward him, letting her breasts brush his chest and her hand drop to his lap. As usual the moment she touched him, she felt his growing cock, hard and hot and perfect. "I'm so glad you're home, honey."

  "Babe," Viktor started, drawing back just a little, reaching for her hand.

  "Nice tits," Transporter observed.

  Mechanic kicked him. "Nice rack," he corrected.

  Gasping, mortified, Blythe looked around her bedroom. Shadowy figures occupied the space. Eight of them.

  Grabbing the blanket, she dragged it up and over her breasts. Her gaze found Transporter. "Thanks," she managed. "Do you happen to have a gun?"

  "We can't let you shoot him," Reaper said.

  "I wasn't planning to shoot him. I was thinking shooting myself might be much more appropriate under the circumstances."

  "Sorry, ma'am. We can't let you do that either. He's in a much better mood when he gets laid regularly," Absinthe said.

  "Is there a reason you're all here, or do you just need a place to sleep?"

  "We've got something to ask you," Ice said.

  "Something important," Storm added.

  Alena shoved to the front. "Blockheads. It's about the boy. Our newest prospect."

  "He's not a prospect," Viktor denied, clenching his teeth. "Blythe, he isn't a prospect."

  "I am," called a defiant voice from the hallway.

  "Shut the fuck up," Viktor snapped. "You're a kid. A fu-- just a kid. You can't be a prospect."

  "He's old enough to guard the bikes," Alena muttered rebelliously.

  Blythe didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She was beyond mortified. There was a point when embarrassment didn't matter anymore, and she was there. They were all so crazy and her man was the craziest of all.

  Viktor snapped on the lamp beside the bed, giving the room a soft glow. "You can say no, baby, it's all right."

  "Oh. My. God. Seriously, Viktor?" Blythe threw her hands in the air. The blanket slipped and she grabbed at it, jerking it back over her breasts. "It's the middle of the night. This couldn't have waited until morning?" They had a boy, a child waiting in the hallway for her verdict. She could give him a bed or throw him out. Were they all crazy?

  "Not really," Absinthe said. "It's kind of an emergency situation."

  "Just where did you find him?"

  No one answered. The room fell silent. Strangely, she only heard herself breathing. Storm shifted restlessly, moving closer to her end table. He reached down and picked up her toy. Her mouth opened to say something, but nothing came out. Not one word.

  "Sweet," he said.

  "Do you people not have rooms where you're staying? Somewhere other than my bedroom to sleep?" she finally managed, because there was nothing to say to the nonexistent smirks on their faces. They might not show their shared amusement, but she felt it. Even Viktor, who had started out reluctant and upset, was a little amused, although too wise to show it.

  Alena snatched the toy from her brother's hand and looked it over with avid interest. Blythe was certain by now her entire body was glowing a bright crimson red along with her face, but she refused to acknowledge what was happening another moment.

  "Wow. Who knew? Does it work?" Alena asked. "I've never seen one like this, but Lana told me about them."

  Ice and Storm groaned. Storm shoved his sister. "That's so wrong on every level."

  That was wrong, but not coming into her bedroom in the middle of the night when she was naked? Blythe glared at him, hoping he might get the idea to leave, but none of them seemed inclined to do anything but stay right there, with her naked in her bed.

  Viktor grabbed the toy out of Alena's hand, opened the end table drawer and tossed it in. "What do you want them to do with the kid?" he asked.

  Blythe looked around the room at their faces. Again, they were expressionless, but she felt the wave of hope. Of faith in her. In Viktor. Whoever this "kid" was, they didn't want him thrown out.

  "How old is he?"

  "Kenny." Transporter raised his voice. "How old are you?"

  "Just turned sixteen," a voice answered from the hall.

  "Is he wanted by the cops? His parents, guardian or foster care?" Blythe asked.

  "No cops, no parents, guardian or foster care," Absinthe answered immediately. "Come on, Blythe, you know you want--"

  Viktor surged to his feet and shoved Absinthe hard in the chest, knocking him back halfway across the room. "Don't you fucking ever try that on her," he hissed. "You won't live through what I'll do to you."

  The atmosphere in the room changed from hopeful and amused to instantly tense. No one made a move to get between Viktor and Absinthe.

  "Honey, stop," Blythe said.

  Absinthe had frozen where he was, hands at his sides out in surrender. He didn't make a sound. Viktor hadn't backed off, not even when she asked him to. His body language screamed hostility and rage poured off of him.

  All right then. There was nothing else for it. She snagged her robe from the end of the bed, dropped the covers and stood without looking at any of them while she donned her kimono. It was short, but it would have to do. They'd already seen her, so she wasn't about to be so embarrassed she wouldn't stop Viktor from unnecessarily protecting her.

  She wrapped her arm around his waist, slipping under the arm that was outstretched, his fist in Absinthe's shirt. "Honey. I asked you to stop."

  "You don't know what he just did."

  "Viktor." She looked up at his face. The hard lines were there, danger carved deep. He was furious with Absinthe. She waited until his eyes met hers. The fury there shook her, but she forced calm into her voice. "Honey. I'm an empath. I feel everything, from the amusement you all conceal to fear and anger. I also feel energy the moment it's released or used. I felt it and simply directed it away from me."

  She didn't see how the others took her announcement, because she was keeping all her attention on Viktor, but she felt the shock running through them all. They relied on their talents and to have someone be able to keep them from using their gifts was disconcerting to say the least. She understood that, but at the moment, the important thing was soothing the man defending her when she didn't need it.

  "He didn't know that, did you, Absinthe?" Viktor bit out.

  Absinthe shook his head. "I apologize."

  "Say it to her," Viktor insisted. "You treat her like she's one of us, because she is. If she isn't, neither am I." He let go of Absinthe's shirt and turned to face them all, his arm sweeping Blythe close. "All of you need to understand this. She's one of us. She's my other half. The best part of who I am. If you can't accept that, say so now and I'll walk away. You can appoint another president and . . ."

  "Don't be an ass," Reaper said. "We get it. We all get it."

  "The agreement was, we never use our gifts on one another. If Blythe is family, that includes her." Viktor refused to let up.

  Absinthe nodded. "I totally fucked up. I'm sorry, Blythe. We don't know what to do with the kid, and we can't take him to the camp, we can't leave him out in the cold, so we brought him here, figuring you'd know what to do."

  Instantly the tension drained out of Viktor and the rage subsided. Bly
the let her breath out, feeling the relief in the room. Once again the atmosphere changed. Evidently when one of them apologized, the incident, no matter how bad, was clearly considered over.

  "No problem," she said, because she could tell they were waiting for her acknowledgment.

  Blythe went across the room, pulling the kimono tighter to make certain she was fully covered. When she opened the door, the boy nearly fell inside. He'd been listening, his ear to the wood. Stumbling, very pale, he threw out his stick-like arms for balance and caught at her. She steadied him.

  She'd never seen anyone so thin. Every bone seemed to be protruding. He had scars, especially around his wrists. The moment she saw him, saw the marks on his wrists and the look on his face, she knew exactly what kind of situation Viktor and the others had found him in.

  "Are you hungry?" Boys were always hungry, and this one looked starved.

  Kenny nodded.

  "Can any of you cook?" Blythe asked.

  "Alena." They all said her name simultaneously.

  Blythe smiled at her. "I take it you're a good cook."

  Alena tried to keep all expression from her face, but she was pleased. She shrugged. "I can manage."

  "Would you mind fixing him something to eat while I make up the bed in one of the other rooms?"

  "How much food do you have in the house?" Mechanic asked hopefully.

  She couldn't help but smile. They'd gone through a gamut of emotions and now they were all hungry and hoping for one of Alena's meals. "Plenty."

  The boy straightened his shoulders. "Are you going to let me stay?"

  Instantly they were all still. Waiting. She took a deep breath. "For the night, and then we'll talk in the morning. You might not want to stay here."

  "I want to be wherever he is." Kenny jerked his thumb toward Viktor.

  Viktor had saved him. Viktor had saved all of them. She could feel the way they all viewed her man, and she knew they were crushing him with the weight of their needs. She slipped her arm around Viktor's waist and indicated the door.

  "Go eat. The room downstairs at the end of the hall would be perfect for you, Kenny. Viktor and I will discuss this."

  "Where are the sheets and blankets, Blythe?" Absinthe asked. "I can make up the bed for him."

  She knew he was trying to make up for his earlier blunder. "In the closet. I keep blankets and sheets in the closets of each bedroom. Thanks, I appreciate it."

  He flashed her a smile. "No problem."

  His smile didn't reach his eyes either. It was rare that they smiled and even rarer for it to be genuine. That made her sad, but more, she realized just what Viktor was facing. The Torpedo Ink club members were lost, wandering through a world they didn't fit into. They needed direction. Maybe a little guidance. They were grown-ups and they'd seen the worst the world had to offer. The very worst.

  Her childhood hadn't been easy, but by comparison--there was no comparison. She was bringing three girls into her home, two of whom had been victims of human trafficking, brutal rape and beatings. Now a boy. Clearly the same thing had happened to him. She closed the door quietly and turned to face Viktor.

  "I'm not a counselor. I'm not. I want to help with your cause, but I don't know the first thing about how to make these children better."

  Viktor reached out to take her hand, threading his fingers through hers to tug her over to the bed. "You can't make them better. They're never going to be the same. Never. Their childhood was ripped from them in the worst possible way and there's no way to get it back."

  She sank down onto the bed, shaking her head. "What do you all expect me to do? I have no training in this. That child needs things I can't hope to give him."

  "He needs a home. A family. Someone to teach him that hatred and rage has a place but not a destructive one." He cleared his throat. "Maybe even someone who can give him a little love, teach him there are better things in the world waiting for him."

  She just looked up at him a little helplessly. She didn't know what to say.

  "I did that to you." He indicated the hallway. "I swear to God, baby, I never meant to. I just didn't think."

  "What did you do to me?" she asked as gently as possible.

  "The way they look to you. That you're going to take the boy for them. That you're going to make it all better. I think that about you. That you're magic. All the stories I told them about you. How you laugh. How you make things right. How you're the best in the world. No one better. They made fun of me, but they believed it. Deep down, it got to them and they believed it. Now they expect you to save the world because I expected you to save them."

  Viktor shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Blythe. I didn't mean to come here and put these burdens on you." He frowned. "Well. I did. That's the worst of it. I did. I saved their lives, but I can't save my own soul so I brought them here with me hoping you could do it. Now it's just . . . more."

  "Honey." She didn't know how to take seeing herself through his eyes. He had her up on a pedestal, larger than life, giving her an impossible status to live up to. "Your soul isn't in jeopardy, and neither are theirs. I think, with your childhood, you all get a pass. As for me being magic . . ."

  "You are. Look at you sitting there. Calm. Composed. Worried about me. About them. About the kid. You don't know the first thing about him, but you have compassion for him. They were here, invading your sanctuary, our bedroom, and yet you didn't get hysterical or scream at all of them."

  She wasn't the hysterical type and she didn't scream . . . Well . . . unless she was having sex and she really, really had to stop that. She bit her lip to keep from saying so. Viktor looked so . . . desolate. She kept quiet because clearly he wanted or needed to say more and it was difficult for him. He wasn't used to talking, explaining or getting emotions out. She waited, her hands folded in her lap so she could twist her fingers together tightly, knowing whatever was coming would be difficult to hear.

  "I have things to tell you, Blythe," he started, and then began pacing back and forth across the room. "I know some men wouldn't say a word to their old lady. It's club business, but not you. You have to know. I told you I'd tell you the truth no matter how ugly it is." He turned to face her.

  Blythe held her breath. His face was--ravaged.

  "Sandlin had a video made thirty years ago. Several of them. They were of me, Blythe. The rapes and beatings. I haven't looked at them yet, but I suspect the others are on there as well. Someone has the master tape."

  She didn't know what to say or do, so she just looked at him, her heart breaking for him. It seemed his nightmare was never going to end.

  "My guess is those tapes are going to haunt us until the day we die. They'll be put on the Internet and distributed among hardcore sadistic pedophiles who like that kind of shit. You have to know that could happen. One of your friends might hear . . ."

  "Stop, honey. Stop that."

  He shook his head. "You have to know. It's bad. What they would see is bad."

  "First, a friend wouldn't be looking at that kind of thing, and if they did, I wouldn't want them for my friend. And I would never, under any circumstances be ashamed of you because of what happened to you when you were a child. I'm proud of you, proud to be with you. And in any case, babe, you're a grown man now. Nobody is going to recognize the boy you were thirty years ago."

  "I killed a man tonight." He said it abruptly, his eyes on her face. Watching her. Watching her reaction.

  He dropped the bomb and she felt it strike like a punch to her stomach. Hard and mean. She even hunched, her breath leaving her lungs in an explosive rush. For a moment she closed her eyes. The worst. This wasn't what she was expecting, but she kept quiet, silently urging him to give her the facts and praying he had reason to do what he did.

  "Me. Not the others. I did that. We were questioning him . . ."

  "Who? Questioning whom?" she whispered. Her voice wouldn't come out any stronger than that.

  "Sandlin. That prick, Sandlin. We were questio
ning him and he said things about the boy. Things that made me crazy."

  "What kinds of things?" Already some of the tension left her. Sandlin had been Ray's partner. He'd helped create the largest pedophile site on the Internet. She had the feeling the conversation would give her more insight to Viktor than he realized.

  "That he wanted it. He liked what Sandlin did to him. That's the kind of shit they say, Blythe, to justify what they're doing. He had paid a doctor to make out a death certificate so no one would ever come looking for the kid. He told us we could take him and do whatever we wanted with him."

  "Honey." She said it softly, her gaze on his face. She knew he wasn't the grown man looking back at her. He was that ten-year-old, unprotected boy thrown to the predators.

  "Sandlin took that kid when his mother died and should have protected him, but he didn't. Did you hear what I said? He paid some scumbag doctor to pronounce him dead. Legally. So he could keep him and do whatever he wanted. It made me . . ." He trailed off. "I lost it. We needed answers, and I lost it. I'm supposed to be their example. I tell them it's wrong and we need to live differently and then I just . . ." He turned away from her, swearing.

  Her man. He was breaking her heart. She loved him so much. So much. Someone had to and she knew that someone would always be her. He'd looked at Kenny and he'd seen himself.

  "I told them they couldn't bring him here. I'd already asked too much of you, but the kid followed us and I couldn't leave him out there alone. He's vulnerable. He said if he called the cops, some powerful people were involved with Sandlin and he was afraid. I didn't know what to do."

  "Will they find him here? Do you know who they are?"

  "We took the contents of the safe, and Sandlin was into blackmail. Hopefully we'll find out, but they might come after the boy. If they do . . ."

  He'd come to her because he didn't know what to do. She took a deep breath. "We'll figure it out, Viktor. Certainly we can protect him here, but he might not be happy living with me. I'd insist on things like him seeing a counselor. Going to a doctor. Having rules. You don't have rules."

  "We have rules," he defended. "A code we live by."

  She wasn't touching that. "He's still a child. What about school?"

  Viktor sank onto the bed beside her. "Baby, that's all a little ways off. First, the kid needs sleep, and so do you. You can talk to him in the morning and then you decide. I'll abide by your decision."