8. Chapter 8

8

I watch Blake the entire time Luna cleans and then begins stitching her shoulder up. Now, I've seen grown men cry and turn into big babies when someone stabs them with a needle, let alone when their wound is cleaned—but Blake takes it as if she's been through it a million times before, and that only raises more questions.

When I told her I would snap Luna's neck, I wasn't lying. I didn't think about it until the words flew out of my mouth. And I would, I'd snap her neck and anyone else who thought they could touch her. Blake is mine, even if she doesn't know it. The protectiveness creeping around my heart is no longer a lingering effect. It has fully taken hold of that organ and sprouted roses inside with Blake's name written on them.

So even though I know Luna is helping her and doing the best she can not to hurt my Blake, that doesn't stop me from taking a step forward when she flinches as Luna threads the needle into her skin.

"He's making that murder face, isn't he?" Luna whispers to Blake .

"I'm not making any type of face," I answer for Blake. Not that she would respond to Luna herself. Blake has a way of ignoring everyone, and I have a feeling she was like that before she even lost her voice.

"Then why are you standing behind me, crowding us?" she snaps right back.

"She flinched," I said, waving at them as if she could see me. Blake could, and that's all that mattered to me. "You hurt her."

"So what? You're going to snap my neck now? Kill me before I even finish her shoulder or get that knife out of your thigh? You should probably sit down before you pass out from all the blood loss."

"I'll sit down when you're done with her," I say, ignoring the fact that I am a little dizzy, for multiple reasons. Blood loss plays a majority of the cause, but lack of sleep and food is a big part as well. I can go for two days with no sleep, but my senses have dropped quite a bit since I've been fighting more men than I'm used to nowadays.

"That's what you said about me once before too." Luna chuckles under her breath.

Blake's eyes flicker between us as if she's trying to figure us out. Frowning down at Luna, Blake's eyes flicker towards the scissors sitting on the tray next to them. Oh, fuck.

"Blake, no," I snap. I'm at her side in an instant, gripping her wrist. "Don't you dare think about it."

Luna sits back, confusion and worry crossing over her face. She glances over at Blake, who's shooting daggers at Luna.

"I—what, did I do something…?" Luna trails off, hands shaking.

I don't look over, forcing Blake to once again look at me. "Nothing happened," I half lie. Luna kissed me once, a long time ago. But Blake doesn't need to know that because from the look in her eye, Blake wants to stab her.

"She think—"

"Move," I order. Luna scrambles up, handing me the needle and thread. Sitting down, I bite back a hiss from the motion. That knife is going to be a bitch to pull out .

"Luna is an old friend," I mutter, picking up where she left off on stitching Blake's shoulder up. "She's nothing more than a friend; there is nothing you have to worry about with her." I'm almost done with her shoulder when I see the tension in Blake slowly leave as she starts to calm down. After cutting the thread, I set the needle and thread aside.

"You can clean up in the bathroom inside that room. There're towels and everything else you need. I–uh… there's extra clothes I laid out," Luna says from behind me.

Blake nods her head, making the motion to stand up. Stopping her, I grab ahold of her chin forcing her to look directly at me. Bringing our noses together, Blake freezes, her body telling her to fight against my hold. To do anything to get away.

"There's no one, only you," I tell her. "Luna is just a friend and has only been a friend. I don't want anyone." Not unless they're you. But I don't say that. I'm sure I'm already freaking her out. "So, no need to get stabby, Sunshine. I'd stab my heart before I think of another woman, let alone touch them."

Blake swallows, my eyes dropping down to her neck. Hmmm, my hand twitches, remembering the feel of my palm pressing against her throat. I want to feel her delicate throat. Blake on her back while I drive into her, or on all fours, my hand wrapped around the back of her neck. Shoving her face into the mattress as I rutted into her.

"Jace…" Luna whispers, reminding me that not only do we have company, but Blake doesn't like being touched. And I've been doing that a lot since we left her parents' house.

"Go shower, Sunshine," I mumble, fighting against wanting to press my lips against hers. I'm sure if I tried, she'd stab me with the scissors she's hiding against her leg.

Letting go of her throat, Blake slowly maneuvers around me, not that I move at all. I want her to bump into me, just once. But she doesn't. Blake has practice at not touching others and getting around.

I watch Blake leave the living room and disappear into the bedroom. Neither Luna nor I move until I hear the bathroom door close .

"You have feelings for her," Luna states. It's not a question, I feel something for her. It's more than just looking after her, I want to fuck her and then watch her drift off into a peaceful sleep.

"Come on, big guy. Let's save that thigh so you can go on your merry way. Soon, hopefully. I don't want to wake up with her staring at me over the bed."

I chuckle, knowing that Blake wouldn't just stare at her. No, my girl would stab both her eyes out and probably play with them.

Keeping an eye on the door, I slide down into the rocker.

"How'd you meet her?" Luna asks, placing supplies on the side table.

I don't answer right away, debating on lying to her. She was one of the jobs Ryker and I took when we first started out. Luna was sixteen and needed an out. That's where we came into play. After we took out her brother, she came out to the woods and hasn't looked back. Every once in a while, I try to catch up with her to make sure she's okay and alive, for the most part.

"Jace?" Luna whispers.

My eyes flicker down to her. "She's a job," I finally answer. I don't like the answer, but it's the truth and one that's beginning to cross. Ryker and I both agreed we would never get involved with clients and here I am breaking the number two rule.

"I thought…" she trails off, her face dropping. Luna had a teenage crush on us when we were helping her. Only instead of it dropping when we went our separate ways, she's been stuck on there being an us. Ryker scared her more than once, and she eventually realized he'd probably stab her in the heart while fucking her. And that wasn't her thing. It's not for many females.

"I know what you thought," I mumble. She thought there would be something between us, and when that got shut down because of our rule, she thought no woman would ever come into my life. I didn't think there would be either. I gave up on that long before the military, long before I had a chance to even know what life had in store for me.

I was just waiting for Blake.

"She's so young…" Luna mutters under her breath. I don't say anything, not wanting to start anything while Luna is giving us a place to lay low for a day. I don't think she would kick us out or anything, but it would just make Blake a little more on edge.

"How have you been?" I finally ask.

"I've been good, just been here," she mumbles. "Okay, I'm going to pull it out. It's… it's going to hurt," she warns, only two seconds before she's yanking the knife from my right thigh.

"Fuck!" I growl out, fisting my hand, I throw my head back and start counting backward. "Sorry," Luna says. Pressing gauze against my leg, I keep my head back as she works on stitching my thigh up. Neither of us speaks as she works, the only sound the shower running and the faint sound of the heater.

"How's Ryker?" Luna asks, picking the medical supplies up.

"He's fine," I answer. I'm not sure how Ryker is, I never know. With him, it's a hit or miss. One moment he can be in a decent mood, and the next he's on a mission to take out as many people as he can. Just like he was a few days ago, killing the guy who was abusing his wife and son, though the fucker deserved everything Ryker gave him and more.

"Jace." Luna sighs. "Are you keeping your distance because of me or because of something I'm not a part of?"

"I'm just tired," I half lie. I'm tired, but I also don't want Blake to have any more of a reason to hate Luna.

"You know we're friends if you want to talk… or I know… I know she doesn't like me."

"Blake barely likes me, Luna." I chuckle, motioning towards my thigh.

Luna's eyes widen down at my leg, frowning before she looks up. "She's the one who did this? She's the one who stabbed you?"

How do I answer that without making Blake sound crazy? I know she's just a scared girl who struggles with her emotions, and I'm oddly okay with being the punching bag—more like a stabbing bag for her.

"She wasn't in her right mind," I finally decide.

"She wasn't in her right mind," Luna repeats back slowly. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Luna growls, throwing her hands on her hips. Cocking my head at her, I'm confused on what she's trying to get at .

"It means exactly what I said, she wasn't in her right mind."

Standing up, I take a step towards Luna. "She's mine, Luna. I won't let anything get in the way of that, so before you think you can just slip into my mind and tell me I'm better without her, you're wrong."

I don't know where all this is coming from, I just know I don't like what Luna is trying to say. Even if she didn't say the words, it was between the lines.

"Jace, I didn't mean anything. I just—come on, I haven't seen you in years and you show up with a stab wound, a bloody mess, and a girl who has yet to speak. Not to mention she is also a bloody mess, with a wound in her shoulder, and then you tell me she's the reason you have a chunk missing from your leg. What do you expect me to say?"

She's right. I shouldn't have come here, but it was the only place close enough, hidden, and somewhere I could take Blake and know she was in no true danger. Luna would never hurt her, especially now that she knows Blake is mine. Whatever that entails, Blake is under my protection, and not just because she's a job right now.

"Why doesn't she speak?" Luna whispers.

"I'm not sure."

Luna glances away, too deep in thought before she nods her head, coming to some sort of understanding. I'm not sure what, but when she finally sighs and looks back at me, it's like she's finally understanding that there was never going to be an us.

"You both can stay as long as you need, I'm not sure she likes me much, but you're both safe here." Stepping back, Luna doesn't wait for me to say anything; instead, she heads towards the door on the opposite side of the living room. Letting out the breath I've been holding, I look up, hating that I've hurt Luna. I might be a killer, but there is a heart somewhere in there. And she's done nothing but be nice and caring towards Ryker and me. I just can't help that I don't feel anything there.

Realizing the shower is no longer running, I head towards the bedroom, and slip inside but find the bathroom door closed. Limping to the side of the bed, I ease down. Between the wound to my side, my thigh, and the bruises that are forming around my body, I could easily sleep a week. Or longer.

I can't remember a time when a job went this far south, not even our first job. Sure, there are some hiccups along the way. Not all can be smooth sailing, but this job, it's been nothing but a fucking mess. Maybe because I hate to consider Blake as a job. I want to protect her, and I don't even care about the money. I just want to help her; I want to make all her problems disappear.

Letting out a sigh, it dawns on me that she's been in there for an hour and the shower has been off for the majority of that time.

Getting to my feet, I limp toward the bathroom, rapping my knuckles against the wood door. "Blake?" I call out. I don't expect her to answer, maybe to knock back, or make some sort of noise. Only it's dead quiet on the other side.

"Hello…Blake, it's Jace, it's me…" I try again. I know she wouldn't answer for Luna, but I thought if I told her it was me she would make a sound. But she doesn't. Against my better judgment, I twist the doorknob, not surprised to find it locked. I'm actually happy she knows to protect herself. And I couldn't be prouder of her.

"Alright, Sunshine, come on," At this rate I really just want to shower and get into bed and the longer I have to wait for her to open the door, the more irritated I become. I don't give her any more time before I shove my bodyweight against the door and after a few tries it finally gives way.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath. My body already aches so the last thing I wanted to do was break a door down. Luna is going to be pissed.

Standing up straight, I shake my head, realizing Blake is standing there in a towel, staring at the semi-foggy mirror. My eyes bounce back to Blake, opening my mouth to say something when I stop.

A mix of large and small white scars litters her skin starting from her collarbone and down her arm. Some scars are more recent than others, and some are raised, deeper. I can see part of her back, and burn marks cover the majority of it. The side of her neck has two bite marks, human. My eyes trace down to her leg. Her paleness does nothing to cover the amount of marks covering them. A mix of bite marks, human and dog. Cut marks, burns… and rope scars. And that's when I noticed one of her toes is missing. How did I miss this?

Blake must realize I'm looking at her feet because she curls her toes and shifts. My eyes snap to hers in the mirror. Blankness, no emotions, as if no one is there. I don't like it. I've seen others leave. I've seen them become a shell and become nothing but a walking emotionless being. But this is different. Blake is there screaming inside, but she's stuck.

"How many?" I ask. I'm not sure why this is the first question I ask, but it's the only explanation of her silence and why she doesn't trust anyone.

Blake glances at me, her towel firmly pressed against her chest. Slowly reaching across, her finger writes into the mirror. I don't look until she backs away and cocks her head at me. Nothing prepares me for the unhinged feeling coursing through my veins when I see the number she drew into the foggy mirror.

22.

When I come out of the bathroom, I nearly miss the fact Blake is lying in bed because she's hiding underneath the blankets. If she were anyone else, I'd assume she was asleep.

But she's not.

After she told me twenty-two people hurt her, I was frozen and didn't know what to say. I had no words, nothing but anger inside me. And she must have known that, because she grabbed her clothes from the counter and rushed into the bedroom. I stand there in the bathroom, confused and fighting against every fiber in my being not to go hunt down every single man that did that to her. It also raises even more questions. Who were they? Why had she been hurt? What the fuck had Dimitri done to stop it? I wanted to fire question after question at her, only I know I would have been met with silence.

So even if I know I shouldn't do it, I cross the room and crawl into the bed beside her. I lay on top of the covers, so she doesn't freak out and stab me for the third time. I'm not sure my body would even handle that well. Keeping still, I lay on my back, looking up at the dark ceiling.

Her breathing has evened out as she tries to pretend she is asleep. She'd done that in the hotel room the night we were attacked. Though I'm grateful she wasn't in the room when they started to break in. She was safe in the bathroom.

"Blake," I whisper into the darkness. "I want to ask a few questions for you to answer," I blurt out. Blake flinches, her body tensing under the covers, and I know she has those scissors in her hand.

"Do you think you can do that?" I ask.

I nearly jump when her hand is suddenly tapping my shoulder.

"Is that a yes?" I ask, itching to grab her hand in mine.

Tap.

Furrowing my brows, I say, "I'm going to guess that's a yes, and no is two taps."

Tap.

"Were you waiting for me to go to sleep so you could slip into the bathroom and lock the door?" I ask.

Tap.

I bite my cheek. I'm not sure why that was the first question I asked, but now that I know, I hate it. I want her to feel safe here. Safe in bed with me. And soon, safe in my arms.

"Do you not feel safe in the bedroom with me? The door's locked," I add, hoping that would change her answer.

Tap… Tap .

I can't say I'm not surprised. Besides saving her a few times, I've given her no reason to fully trust me. And because being locked in this room with me probably is making it worse.

"I can't say I'm happy about that. I want you to trust me, but I also get that it takes time. And then time might not even convince you that I'm not going to hurt you." I press my lips together, hating everything that she went through. And she won't even talk about it, she can't.

"Are they the reason you lost your voice?" I ask.

Tap.

Biting down on my lip, I swallow the lump in my throat. They're all dead. Every single one of them. I'm going to hunt down each one of the monsters that took this beautiful angel's voices away.

"Are they all dead?" I finally ask.

Blake takes longer to tap my shoulder than I like, and I can't take it anymore. Sitting up, I grab her right shoulder, pulling her towards me. Pain radiates over her face in the moonlight, but I don't focus on that.

"They're not dead, are they?"

She sucks on her bottom lip before shaking her head.

"He left them alive?" I growl, my hand digging into her shoulder. Thankfully it's not the one that was stitched. If it was, I might have felt a little bad about it.

"How many are left?" I ask. I doubt she'll tell me, not with the fear in her eyes. I know I'm scaring her, but I can't handle knowing the ones who hurt her are still out there. That her family has done nothing to put an end to them. Not with Salem married to her father's enforcer, Zane. Salem would wipe out the entire planet hunting them down. Unless they don't know.

"Holy fuck, they don't know they're still alive, do they?" I sit back against the headboard. From the corner of my eye, I watch Blake shake her head.

"How many are still alive, Blake? All of them?" I ask, glancing down. Blake lies on her right side facing me, hands tucked under her chin, one of her fingers slipped into her mouth .

I hate that asking these questions brought her back to whatever happened. I can see the fight in her eyes, the one to stay in the present but to know that the flashbacks are there. They're seeping through, dragging her back to that hell.

Slipping down, I face her, mimicking her position, just not putting my finger into my mouth.

"My mother used to beat me. It started when I was two, according to the records. I just remember growing up with her hitting me. I remember this one time when I was five, I had spilled milk on the counter trying to make myself some cereal. It was stale, but it was either that or those canned Vienna sausages, and one time I opened a can and found maggots, so it was cereal, it was just safer. Anyhow, I'm getting off-topic. I spilled some milk, and before I could clean it, she saw it. She had a belt named Jerry. I'm not sure why she named it that. Maybe someone named Jerry had hurt her at some point. Maybe that's why she used to beat me. I woke up in the hospital not remembering much but spilling the milk. I had a broken my arm and a severe concussion, so I was forced to stay in the hospital for a few days. It was like a vacation."

I don't know why I word vomit that story, maybe to make her feel comfortable, to understand that I also used to be scared. It had all come to a boiling point, and now I'm not scared of anything. Or I wasn't. Until her.

Blake reaches across, surprising me when she presses a finger over my bare chest. I'm sorry. She writes into my skin.

"It's okay." I smile.

Blake goes to pull her hand away. Stopping her, I slap my larger palm over the back of her hand. Blake's eyes widen slightly, glancing between my eyes and my chest.

"Thank you," I mutter.

Her brows furrow, nonetheless, confused at what I'm thanking her for.

"We all have scars, some more than others, some more mentally than others. But you're still lying here because somewhere deep down, you know. You trust me, maybe not like you would have in the past. But you trust me enough to know that no matter what, I'll throw myself in front of a bullet to save you. And that won't change. Because you're not just a job to me. You're worth more than all the money your father paid Walker. You're worth everything, Sunshine."

Blake stares at me, wide-eyed and confused and struggling to digest the words spewing from my mouth.

"Get some sleep, Blake. I'll watch over you," I tell her.

She slowly blinks, her eyes dropping. I know she's tired, probably more than me. I know she hasn't had a decent night's sleep since it happened.

Finally closing my eyes, I could feel myself drifting off to sleep, when I felt her slowly tracing something across my chest. It took me a moment for it to dawn on me what she was writing and what she was saying. She was answering my question, if they were alive.

12.

Twelve of them were still alive.

For now.