keeps me pinned.
When I let out a frustrated yell, no one even seems to care.
So I glare up at Cass and sink my teeth into his pec.
“Christ!” he yells, pushing away from me. He slaps a hand over his pec and stares at me in shock as blood starts seeping through his fingers. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Rube, stop!” I hold my belly as I move toward him as quickly as I dare. Wet tiles are no joke, especially when I have a baby inside me. One slip is all it will take.
I grab Reuben’s wrist, and he jerks me forward with the force of his next punch.
But it never lands, because Rube stops and looks at me with a severe frown creasing his brow. “Let go,” he says calmly.
If he’d been shouting, I might have listened. But I’ve seen this serenity in his eyes before.
People died.
“He told you he wanted to apologize to me,” I rattle off, tightening my fingers around Rube’s wrist. “Well that’s exactly what he did.”
His frown deepens. “He was hurting—”
“No.” I shake my head, widening my eyes. “No, Rube, he wasn’t.”
At least, not like they think he was. There was pain, but it wasn’t entirely unwelcome. I guess I’ve changed since they first met me at Saint Amos all those years ago. Terrified, weak little Trinity Malone doesn’t exist anymore. Maybe the change has been too subtle for them to register, or maybe they all want to remember me as the timid, innocent girl I was…but it’s time they saw me for who I really am.
“I…I think I understand.”
“Understand what?” Rube barks.
“Him.” I reach past and press a hand to Zach’s chest. Then I drag my gaze from Reuben’s shocked eyes and stare up at Zach instead. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”
Zach holds my gaze for a second before he looks away. He clears his throat, and as if that sends a signal to the other men, they’re suddenly sharing glances with each other as they move closer. Apollo hands Zach a towel, and he wraps it around his waist before they cluster even closer. Now I’m surrounded by all four of my men, Cass flicking wet hair out of his eyes and tugging at his wet clothes, Apollo gazing at Zachary like he just told us he’s going to perform a magic trick, and Rube staring daggers.
But they’re quiet, and they listen, and that’s all anyone could ever have asked.
“You know how scared you were?” Zachary whispers, trailing his fingers down the side of my face. “Now imagine…” His voice disappears until he clears his throat again. Then he cuts his gaze to his brothers, looking away as soon as they make eye contact. “Imagine feeling like that every second, of every day.”
My heart clenches as a sob wrenches through me. “Oh God,” I murmur, clapping my hands over my mouth. “Zach.”
His throat moves as he swallows, his eyes still downcast. “I used to be scared when I was a kid, before I ever went into that basement.” His voice hitches, but he pushes on. As he speaks, Rube starts leaning back as if the weight of Zach’s words pushes him away.
“My dad would hit me sometimes, and the worse was I never knew when it would happen. Sober, tipsy, good mood, bad…there was no way to tell what day it would happen. But it always happened at night. Two, three times a week. Sometimes less, sometimes more. It was the not knowing that got to me. That constant panic every time I heard a noise outside my room after dark. But I managed. I had my coping mechanisms.” He frowns hard, and then shakes his head as if he’s trying to get rid of a horrible thought. But it has to stick, because his mouth trembles a second before the words start spilling out again.
“I’d imagine it was someone else hurting me. A monster that came into my room at night wearing a mask that looked just like my Dad. He was the one who slapped and kicked and beat me. He was the one who’d—” Zach cuts off hurriedly, visibly dragging in a breath that puffs out his chest. He glances up, scans us, and finally ends on me.
His eyes are the color of shadowy moss.
“Over time, that monster took on a life of its own. It would creep out of the pantry on an overcast day, oozing from those dark shadows like a slug. I