Temperance (Defiance #4) Read online

Page 13

He moved away from Rebel, pacing a little. Now that he’d started, he just wanted it out.

  “There were four of them. One guy—Neil—I knew him. I’d fucked him.”

  “Jesus,” Rebel breathed.

  When Neil saw Declan thrown into the room, their eyes had met in recognition. “I thought about outing him, especially when they told me their plan. But I didn’t.” Not while he endured the violent horror of rape and beatings.

  “How long?” Rebel breathed.

  “Three weeks.” Every minute was excruciating—physically and emotionally. “But I got through it.”

  “Yeah, you did, babe.” Rebel held a hand out and Declan paused for a second, and then walked back to him.

  *

  Rebel tugged Declan against him slowly—wrapped an arm around him, wanting to center him, but more than that, wanting to hold him.

  It was fucking heartbreaking—more so that Declan kept his hands lightly on Rebel, like he knew not to press too much.

  This isn’t about you. “Where are they now, Dec?” he managed, not really trusting his own voice.

  “Dead,” Declan answered hollowly. “Dad killed two of them at the scene, before the police got there. They wouldn’t dare charge him—he was too powerful. So much so, this was kept out of the papers completely. A year later, I killed Neil. He knew, the second he saw me, that he was dead. He apologized. Meant it. I could see the stress on his face, the toll it had taken on him. He’d become a drunk. His life was ruined. Fucked. Leaving him like that would’ve been the real punishment.” Declan’s tone was firm but his eyes were somewhere far away, like he was seeing the scene unfold right in front of him. “But he apologized. So I put him out of his misery. I couldn’t live with myself I’d killed him for pure revenge. I see that now in a way I never could before.”

  Rebel shook his head. Wondered if he could’ve ever done the same and decided no. He was all for vengeance, and he’d taken it by threatening Frank, from the time he’d become old enough—big enough—to no longer be scared. “And the fourth?”

  Declan paused for a long moment. “He died at the hands of Defiance.”

  Realization dawned on Rebel slowly. “Jesus Christ, Declan…you don’t mean…Victor?”

  “Yeah, Victor.”

  “Your brother.”

  “My brother,” Declan repeated. “So when I say I trust Keller, you have to know that I don’t take that shit lightly. I know what it’s like to be betrayed by family. By the person who you think would always have your goddamned back.” His voice broke a little on the last words, but then he caught himself, shook his head like he was willing himself to be strong.

  Like he wasn’t already the strong one. Because it was Rebel who felt like he’d been slammed into a brick wall.

  And Declan knew it, murmured, “It’s okay, Reb.”

  “No. Fucking not okay,” Rebel whispered, although he wasn’t sure if Declan heard him. Then he picked his head up as another realization rolled through him. “Declan…the scars under the tattoos…”

  Declan’s eyes flickered, anguish and defiance tied together undeniably. “They’re my goddamned scars now. All mine.”

  “Why? Why the fuck did they do this? Was it money?”

  Declan pressed his lips together. “Victor didn’t know I was gay. The rape and the beating had nothing to do with sex.” Declan swallowed hard and Rebel swore he tasted the bitterness. “They beat me and recorded it—or they tried. When I wouldn’t scream, they took to filming it with a camera and that got sent to Dad…the rapes too. The whole time, he didn’t know it was Victor who’d done it.”

  “Did you tell him?”

  Declan shook his head. “I didn’t have to. A part of him knew it. Victor didn’t stay on the compound with us after the Chaos for very long. Claimed it was better that he become a traveling liaison. We knew to keep our eyes out, but figured it was better if we played dumb. At least that was my plan. Because I didn’t know for sure…not one hundred percent sure until…” He paused. “Doesn’t matter. I know for sure now.”

  “Dec…what aren’t you telling me?”

  From the tone of his voice, Declan could tell Rebel knew—or at least suspected. But before he could even get to that…fuck, he didn’t want to talk about the last part. The worst part.

  To some, that might sound crazy, but during the beatings and the rapes, he had the power. Locked underground? He was truly at their mercy. The only way not to be was to survive. “There was a coffin.”

  “Dec…no.”

  “They put me in. Locked it. And put me in a grave in the middle of an actual cemetery.”

  Rebel’s mouth opened, then closed.

  “I can’t talk more about it, Reb. I just can’t.”

  “You lived it,” Rebel whispered.

  “Because they were trying to purify me,” he whispered back.

  “Wait—who is they? You know who did it?”

  Declan nodded. “The beating and the rape? Victor thought it was a way to get money from Keller. But it wasn’t. The men he was working with, the ones who helped him kidnap me…for them, it was part of the ritual. The Nomads wanted me back.”

  Rebel’s mouth dropped. Declan’s stomach tightened, but it was too late to turn back time and stop this conversation. It’d always been too late, and maybe he’d been kidding himself into thinking he and Rebel had a future. Why would Rebel ever want to be hooked up with someone who had a target on his back?

  He cleared his throat and continued, since Rebel sat waiting. “They marked me. And in the end, they planned on digging me up. If I was alive, that meant I was reborn—and strong enough to be a real Nomad. When we first met, I told you I didn’t think the world was all that bad, and you asked why—how—I could think that. Well, I’ve been to dark, long before the Chaos. And I think Keller’s trying to take the darkness away for the majority of the people who aren’t us, who aren’t mafia or gang or MC. Most of the survivors are still regular people.”

  “You’re more than a survivor.”

  Declan shook his head. “That’s all I am. All I’ll continue to be.” He paused. “I know you must have more questions…and if you want me to leave after what you know, I will—”

  “I don’t,” Rebel said quickly.

  “I can’t talk about it anymore. Not now. Please.”

  “Okay.”

  “Fix it. Take me. Use me. Just don’t fucking leave me alone tonight,” Declan told him. “I know you’re still pissed.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Bullshit.”

  With that one word from Declan, Rebel was on him, literally pinning him to the wall, grinding with a slow thrust of his pelvis against Dec’s.

  The man was hot and cold, but when he was hot Dec had no restraint, no will to resist him. And he didn’t see a reason to bother—most of the time. He sensed Rebel’s agitation, his need ringing out clearly, infusing Dec’s senses…ramping up the urge to let Rebel take him, any way he wanted.

  The kiss was hot and fierce. Dec bit Rebel’s bottom lip as he pulled away, making Rebel growl with pure pleasure. The gleam in his eyes had Declan ready to come…but Rebel wouldn’t make it quite that easy for him.

  “Yeah, take it out on me, Reb,” Declan growled.

  Rebel ripped his shirt open, tied him tight. “Can do whatever the fuck I want to do to you. And you’re going to fucking love it.”

  Declan groaned, want and frustration mixed. Had anything changed? Had Rebel simply not absorbed the information Declan had told him—or had he understood that Declan still needed everything Rebel gave him, maybe more desperately than ever? “Mark me,” Declan ground out. “Do it.”

  Rebel did. He used his belt, knowing the exact pressure that would leave the kind of marks Declan desired….but wouldn’t hurt him. Because Rebel knew that someone had already done that.

  When the first thwack hit Declan, right across his ass, Declan howled. Back of his thighs.

  “You’ll feel this for days.”

>   Declan groaned, because that’s what he wanted.

  *

  In the aftermath, Declan loved kissing. A romantic fuck, although he’d scoff at that characterization.

  Rebel didn’t care. This was something he enjoyed more than he’d admit, bringing Declan back down. From the floaty space, giving him a soft landing.

  Declan was moaning into his mouth, his body still shaking from the orgasms.

  “Gonna be okay, Declan.”

  “How?”

  “Just shut up and believe me,” Rebel instructed, then went back to kissing him before Declan could argue.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kev

  By the time Kev got back to the main part of Keller’s compound the partying was in full swing. News had gotten out about Fletcher and Big C, and most of the people at Keller’s seemed to understand that it was both a cause for celebration and a reason to worry.

  At the moment, it looked like celebrating had won out.

  At least Keller had waited until Declan and Rebel got back to Defiance—and until Kev had gotten here—before making the announcement. Fuck, Kev didn’t want to like the guy, but that was becoming impossible.

  Kev joined Bishop, who was hanging out with Luna and Carter and the other Defiance members just outside Bishop’s tube. It was quieter over here, but the music still drifted overhead.

  Bishop had ordered food, so there was a nice spread on the tables that were put out for them. Now, he walked over to where Kev stood, facing the crowds. “LoV deserves nothing less.”

  “They’ll retaliate.”

  “If they can get their shit together.”

  “You ever coming home, Bishop?” Kev asked suddenly.

  Bishop smiled. “Yeah, I am. I like it here, but I need Mathias. And I happen to like what I’ve found in Defiance.” He glanced over to where Luna was swaying to the music. She caught sight of him looking and joined them.

  “You okay, Kev?” she asked.

  He nodded, then asked, “What’s up with the chicks at the edge of the property?”

  Bishop frowned, but Luna nudged him and murmured, “Siobhan and her sister,” and Bishop nodded. “How do you know about them?”

  Kev didn’t want to get her in trouble, so he simply said, “I saw her giving a reading.”

  Luna frowned and Bishop told him outright, “Bullshit.”

  “She gives readings,” Luna protested.

  “Not in public,” Bishop said with a hard look at Kev.

  “Fine. She tried to pickpocket me. I followed her.” He explained the rest of the story, about her warning that he shouldn’t rush to leave Keller’s that next morning. About how he followed her directions and came across the massacre on the road later the next afternoon…and how that would’ve been him and his men. “If I hadn’t listened to her, I’d be dead. And I don’t know why I listened to her, or how she knew it. I don’t understand if she knows more about the LoV than she’s letting on, or if the rumors about her psychic crap are real.”

  Bishop whistled while Luna looked stunned. She hugged Kev—hard—and then looked at Bishop. “I think we should talk to her.”

  “I think it’s better if Kev does,” Bishop said. “If she’s already got a connection to him…”

  Luna put a hand on Kev’s shoulder. “I don’t know much about them, except the people here avoid them both—unless they want answers. They keep to themselves. And they’re very much protected by Keller.”

  Interesting. At one point, anyone protected by Keller would be an immediate enemy of Defiance, but nothing was black and white between the two camps any longer.

  It was time for him to start digging into the gray…so he went back.

  Siobhan seemed to be expecting him—she was waiting on the porch, unsurprised when he walked through the woods into the clearing. She did look over her shoulder toward the doorway of the house, though, and she shut the door so he couldn’t see inside.

  He saw the sister peek at him through the curtains and then quickly close them.

  “I’m Kev,” he told her when he got close.

  “I know. I’m Siobhan.”

  “I know. Bishop and Luna told me.”

  She nodded, her arms wrapped around her tightly. “They’re good people.”

  “They know what you told me.”

  “I figured you’d tell them.” She nibbled on her bottom lip. It was only then he noticed how exhausted she looked, like she’d run a marathon since the last time he’d seen her…and that had only been a few hours ago. She glanced over his shoulder, shook her head. Murmured, “Too much. There’s too much going on right now. I can’t…”

  “Can’t what?” he asked gently.

  But she shook her head, refocused on him. “Sorry. I’m just…it’s been a long day. And if you’re back because you want more information…”

  “I do, but not like that. I mean, I want to know more about you. Not about what can happen to me. Fuck, I’ve known this life’s dangerous since I was born into it.” He paused. “Although I should thank you for telling me—I owe you one.”

  That seemed to anger her. She shook her head hard, pointed a finger at him. “Don’t you say that—you don’t owe me anything. That’s not why…I didn’t do anything. I didn’t save you. If I didn’t tell you, your instincts would’ve taken over.”

  “Sometimes it’s okay to say thank you.”

  “It’s too dangerous. Trust me.” She shook her head. “I know—you’re going to say you know danger.”

  “Mind if I sit?” he asked.

  She glanced down at the bench and shook her head. “As long as you’re dreaming about me…”

  “Is that a joke?” he teased and she tensed up again. He motioned to the empty space next to him. “Join me?” He sat first, and it took her a few moments to sit next to him. When she did, she tucked all up into herself, her legs underneath her, her arms crossed over her body, like she was protecting herself. He was pretty certain it wasn’t from him, though. “Bishop and Luna told me that you don’t do public readings or anything, but that you’re…approached.”

  He didn’t add that he knew Keller let her stay here, that she was protected.

  “I don’t like doing readings,” she admitted.

  “Then why do them?”

  “Money.” She shrugged. “Desperate times. And people are desperate. I don’t approach them. But if they come to me…look, people aren’t interested so much in the truth. They want to hear all good things. I can’t blame them, but even something as simple as, ‘that business isn’t going to be as successful as you thought’ gets them annoyed. So I tell them what I think they want to hear. Bullshit stuff.”

  “No truth to it?”

  She shrugged. “Not necessarily. It’s all surface stuff. It’s amazing how happy people are when you tell them exactly what they want to hear.”

  “What’s the point of going to a psychic anyway?”

  “Hope? Justification?”

  “What do people do when they’re angry with you?” Kev asked, and she tried to blow the question off by rising up from the bench. But he stopped her, blocking her with his body. “Tell me.”

  She sighed. “Sometimes they demand their money back, and most of the time, I don’t have it to give back.”

  “Then what?”

  “Why do I have to tell you?’ she demanded.

  He wasn’t sure how to answer that, exactly. It was true that he wasn’t here much, so what could he do to protect her?

  Finally, she put him out of his misery.

  “Kev, you don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’ve perfected ways to make sure people don’t come back to demand money. It means I have to live on the outskirts, but it’s worth it.”

  “You threaten them?”

  “I tell them that I can remove curses. Word eventually got around that I could also curse people and I like it that way. It keeps us safe.”

  “And ensures you’re alone.”

  “We have each other.
It’s worth it for my sister. She needs a lot of medical care and it’s the only way I can get it for her privately.”

  “The doctors come here?”

  “Of course. They’re too logical to believe the curse stuff.”

  “Should they believe?”

  She met his gaze. “Yes.”

  “Did I freak you out…about the dream stuff?”

  She shook her head with a grin. “Psychic, remember.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You knew?”

  “It bothers you, right?”

  He thought about it for a second. “Actually, it turns me on. So if you’re trying to keep me away…”

  “I’m not actively trying. And we just met.”

  “I’ll come here more often, then.”

  She shook her head. “At some point, you will stay away. It happens every time.”

  “Why don’t you want people around?”

  “Because sooner or later, it’ll become too much. I’m too much. I can turn it off for a bit, but I’m still always going to know things. And that drives people crazy. You’d start out saying that it doesn’t matter, that you don’t want to know. But you’ll get curious. Then frustrated, and then you’ll start to resent me. Demand answers. And answers like I have are addicting.” She stood then. “Goodbye, Kev. Go party…and stop dreaming about things that can never happen.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Gotta stop by Keller’s,” Declan announced the next morning after Rebel took him to check in with Caspar.

  “No,” Rebel said, his tone as calm as Declan’s.

  Declan shrugged. “Not asking.”

  Rebel wondered how things could go from semi-normal to Declan’s I’m doing what the fuck I can and you can’t stop me act. “Declan—”

  “You can stay here if you want,” Declan offered smoothly.

  “And you know I can’t let you go alone.”

  “I told you—it’s not about letting, dammit. I’m a grown man with a fucking job—”

  “Yeah, we know all about the damned jobs,” Rebel muttered. Declan shook his head and left the room. “Fucking impossible.”

  “Go with him,” Caspar instructed. “Talk to Bishop—you need to find out what the fuck’s going on. It’s more than Declan’s saying.”