Prison Transfer

-Tatiana-

The car finally rolled to a stop. Gravel popped under the tires, and my stomach twisted because it sounded too much like something breaking. 

I pressed back into the seat anyway, like that would change anything. 

Julian’s name hit me like a lifeline. My secret boyfriend who's also my family's lawyer. 

The one person who actually listened when I talked. 

He had connections. He would tear this whole nightmare apart the second he found out what my stepbrother had done. I just needed to get to a phone.

Except my pockets were empty. I’d left it in my room like always. Mother’s no-phones-at-dinner rule had a perfect timing.

“Shit.”

The door opened. Kain's hand closed around my wrist again, no give at all. He pulled me out without a word. 

I stumbled on the wide stone steps, but he kept me upright. The mansion in front of us was, all dark glass and cold stone. 

I guess he gets well payed for killing politician's families. 

My voice echoed too loud when I spoke inside the hallway

“Are we going to talk about this?” I asked as he dragged me along. “Basic kidnapping etiquette. A welcome speech. Maybe an evil monologue.”

He didn’t even look at me.

We stopped in front of a heavy door. He opened it and gave me a light shove inside. I caught myself on the edge of a massive bed. The door clicked shut behind me. 

I stood there for a second, breathing hard, then spun around and tried the handle. I already knew it was a lost cause.

“Great,” I muttered, pressing my forehead against the wood. “This is perfect.” 

Really living my best life right now.”

I sat on the bed because my legs felt like they belonged to someone else. 

The shots kept replaying in my head. Dad’s wineglass rolling across the table. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the images only got clearer.

Rage came first, the way it always did for me. I grabbed the heavy brass lamp off the nightstand with both hands and swung it at the door just as it opened. 

If only I could smash through everything that had happened tonight.

Kain caught the lamp mid-swing. Just like that. His scarred hand stopped it cold. 

I was breathing hard. “You either kill me or let me go. You murdered my family.” My throat tightened. “Our family.”

He went completely still. For a moment I thought I’d finally gotten through that wall of his. Then he slowly lowered the lamp and set it on a side table I hadn’t even noticed.

“The bathroom’s through there,” he said, nodding toward a door I’d assumed was a closet. His voice was quieter than I expected. Almost tired. “Clothes in the wardrobe. They’ll be too big, but they’re clean.”

I stared at him. “That’s it? No rules? No big speech about how my father ruined your life and this is all some inheritance revenge fantasy?”

Something flickered across his face—almost amusement, gone before I could be sure. He stayed by the door, one hand resting on the frame. I noticed then how carefully he held himself. Like every movement cost him.

“We are not family,” he said.

Oh but we are, dear brother.

“Just because you refuse to admit it doesn't mean it's not true. No matter how you choose to twist this in your head.” I pointed at his chest. “You killed your own family." 

Kain held my gaze for a long second and I hoped he saw the venom in my eyes. 

As the stare down held long, I became painfully aware of the dried blood on my cheek and the fact that I was alone in a bedroom with a man who had just killed four people and still hadn’t raised his voice.

“You should finish your dinner,” he said. "You didn't eat much earlier.”

My my. Is this man insane. 

He must be. No sane man would do what he did and still think of dinner. 

“The police will fine me?” even I know they were empty threats. Kain already killed the man who could make it happen 

Those grey eyes met mine again. The same ones that had decided not to pull the trigger on me earlier. “You have blood on your face.”

I touched my cheek. My fingers came away flaky and brown. I hadn’t even felt it.

Was it Mother's. But what did it matter. She was gone.