Page 12 of Into the Dawn (The Devil’s Claw #3)

12

VANESSA

M y father reaches his hand behind his back and lifts up the tail of his shirt, and I take a terrified step forward when I see what he has tucked into his waistband. My words from earlier, those cruel lies about Ben, still taste like poison in my mouth.

What have I done?

Was this really better than letting him walk into the compound on his own terms?

But Jed throws an arm out to block my way as my father wraps his fingers around the handle of the blade and pulls the knife from the back of his jeans. My beast is ready to attack, to protect our mate, despite the careful plan I've set in motion.

"No," I say when he brandishes it at Ben. The word escapes before I can stop it, raw with genuine fear. Strangled with terror as he steps toward Ben, the knife stretched out in front of him, I fight against Jed's hold, but Ben doesn't move, doesn't flinch, doesn't retreat.

Through our bond, I feel his strength, his determination. Not an ounce of fear.

His eyes glow as the animal within him pushes forward, ready to defend himself, but he's not afraid, and I admire him so much in that moment. And I recognize how different we are. I've let my life be ruled by fear, and here Ben is, in a real life or death situation, and he's not shying away. Just like last night, when he held me with such tenderness, despite knowing the risks.

My father continues to advance on Ben, and Jed chuckles darkly to himself when instead of moving to attack Ben, as I’d expected, Dad reaches forward and slices the extra strong rope I used to trap Ben to the bed.

My stomach churns with guilt at the betrayal, even knowing it was necessary.

"I'm not sure how you let yourself fall for that one, son," he says to Ben, mockingly. "I don't care how hot a bitch is, I'm not letting her tie me to nothing."

Ben rubs his slightly red wrist and doesn't comment, but I see the way his jaw works as he grinds his teeth together. Through our bond, I feel his rage, his hurt, his confusion. He hates my father, just as I do, but he's clever enough not to be provoked.

Last night's tender moments feel like a dream now, shattered by the harsh morning light.

Keeping his eyes fixed firmly on my family, he puts the other leg into his jeans and pulls them up, buttoning them and fixing his belt like he's got all the time in the world.

Jed grabs his T-shirt from the chair just inside the door and fires it at him, hitting him square in the chest. The waft of Ben's scent from the flying material makes my mouth water, but I force myself to stay still, to maintain my act of indifference, even as my beast whines at the distance between us.

Ben tugs his T-shirt over his head, barely breaking eye contact with Jed, who seems irrationally angry about Ben's presence. Is he not happy to get a chance to exact revenge for the death of his friend? Or does he sense something's not right about this situation?

It's hard to know what my dad thinks. Maybe he's delighted with this little present, maybe he's suspicious, or maybe he's just playing his cards close to his chest, but I'm not going to get a real reaction from him until later.

The uncertainty makes my skin crawl. I've based everything on predicting his reactions, but what if I'm wrong?

He likes to keep people on their toes, his family included. Years of his psychological warfare have taught me that much, at least.

Jed's not that smart though, and I can tell by the way his face is red and swollen, that if he had his way, he'd just kill Ben where he stands and send him back to Sutton in little pieces to torture Evan, and anyone else he thinks looks down on him.

I've tried to explain to him before that they only look down on him because he's a complete ass.

"So what now?" Ben asks. "You have me backed into a corner here, what do you want from me? I didn't kill anyone."

Eyes narrowed, Ben glares at me. The accusation in his gaze makes my heart stutter. I hope this is all for show, but who knows. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to blindside him with this one, but I had no choice and very little time.

Didn't I?

I'm starting to doubt myself as the threat to Ben becomes very apparent, and my father presses the huge knife in his hand against Ben's chest until a drop of blood rolls down the shaft.

The plan had been to walk into the compound, and maybe that gave him an extra layer of protection. People would have seen him walking in, so they'd ask questions about what happened to him if he was never seen again, whereas here in my tiny cabin in the woods, Jed and my father could kill him, bury him, and nobody would be none the wiser that he was ever here.

My beast paces anxiously, aware of how badly I might have miscalculated.

"We bring you back to the compound and decide what we're going to do with you. I'm a man who likes a plan, and while my gut instinct is to get revenge for my fallen men, I think there might be a way of getting more value out of your presence than that."

That sounds awful.

"Maybe we give those you hurt another chance to fight you and earn back their honour."

"Honour?" I scoff at the ridiculous notion.

My dad turns to glare at me, and I feel Ben's attention sharpen through our bond. None of the men who live near us know a thing about the word, honour. I can imagine what my father has planned. Something barbaric, no doubt. There are plenty of good people who live in our clan, but they've been cowed into silence through fear, afraid to stand up for what they believe.

And so the loudest few rule, and those also happen to be the ones who suck up to my father, who adore his blood thirsty, violent ways. Like baying hounds, they'll want blood, even though the entire thing was their own fault for going after Kali.

"When we get back, call a meeting. We'll have a vote on what to do with you."

Jed shifts his weight from foot to foot, the way he does when he's got something to hide. My father gives him a withering look.

"And you, until I've decided what's going on, you don't touch him. And I expect you to make sure nobody else does either. If I find him bruised and battered and in no fit condition to fight, I'm going to be pissed, Jed, and it's going to be you who takes his place."

Jed pales and holds my father's eye defiantly for a second before looking away and nodding without comment. He might have notions of taking over once my father is gone, but he's definitely not in any position to challenge him yet. He's not strong enough. So he bites his tongue and eats some humble pie, accepting my father's decree, knowing that if he dares to disobey him, or allows anybody else to, he's going to be in deep shit.

Without realizing it, Jed's hand goes to his right forearm, and he rubs back and forth across the skin there, a faint scar still marking the place where dad snapped his arm just for giving him lip. The break was so bad that the bone came right through the skin. The memory makes my stomach turn.

How many times have I seen him do this to others? How long have I let this continue?

Jed learned the hard way how to toe the line.

"Outside." Dad snarls at Ben. "We'll have you in your new home in no time."

Without giving me a second look, Ben stuffs his feet into his boots, not bothering to lace them, and walks out the door, head held high.

My beast aches at his deliberate dismissal of us, even knowing we deserve it.

My father walks confidently at his side, with Jed bringing up the rear.

I'm about to follow them out, grabbing my coat off the hook, when Jed turns and holds up a hand, blocking my way through the front door. "Where do you think you're going?"

I blink up at him, confused.

"With you. I'm the one who caught him. I want to see what happens."

My father looks at me, assessing as always, so I add for good measure, "And I want my money."

The words feel dirty in my mouth, like I'm really selling Ben out.

My father rolls his eyes but gives Jed a sharp nod, the only indication that he's going to follow through on his word.

"Give her the damned money when we get to the compound." Then he turns his icy stare on me. "But you're not going up there reeking of him. Not when I need to convince one of my top guys to breed with you." He spits out, looking at me with disgust.

Through our bond, I feel Ben's beast simmer with possessive rage. My own answering growl catches in my throat.

"Go take a fucking shower. And Vanessa, wear something nice. Hopefully, I can convince somebody to fuck you and give me some grandkids purely based on the family name, but you can at least make yourself look semi-presentable."

Swallowing hard, I fight back the embarrassed blush stealing up my face. He's talking as if I'm some kind of monster.

Years of his emotional abuse crash over me, but this time, something's different. This time, I feel fury instead of shame.

"Don't fuck with me, Vanessa. If you come up here with a face on you, acting all superior, the money's gone. And loverboy here is gone. Do you hear me?"

I nod, but panicked, I can't help the question that tumbles from my lips.

"You're, you're going to match me now? But we don't even know if the treatment's going to work," I stammer. I thought I had more time. "I mean, I mean, maybe they won't be able to help me. Or it might take a while."

My father shrugs one shoulder like it's no skin off his nose either way.

"Well, if I'm spending all that money, I'm not risking you getting knocked up by some one-night stand or a filthy human. It's going to be one of my boys. And if they're going to go along with this, I'm going to have to sweeten the deal by letting them have some fun too." With a leery grin, enjoying my discomfort, he adds, "They might want a test drive before they buy the goods."

I stand frozen to the spot, fear flooding my veins, and the urge to vomit causing my stomach to churn. Through our bond, I feel Ben's control slipping. The realization of what my father really intends to do crashes into me.

Of course, he's not going to wait until I go for treatment.

If he's intending for one of his cronies to mate with me and get me pregnant, he's going to make me their problem from right now.

He'll pay for the treatment, set it all up, then hand me over like I'm some kind of consolation prize and be done with me. If I get pregnant, great, he'll have grandkids and a son-in-law who hangs on to his every word. If not, I'm someone else's burden to bear.

"Put on a dress and come to the compound. When we've decided who it is, tomorrow, you can come back here and clean up all your shit."

As my father starts walking again, Ben resumes his slow, steady march alongside him without saying a word, but I see the tension in his shoulders, and the way the muscles bunch in his back.

Through our bond, I feel his fury at my father's plans for me, the possessive rage of his beast, barely contained. That's something he didn't anticipate either, and he doesn't like it. He's hanging on by a thread. If I get into an argument with my father, he's liable to do something stupid and get himself killed.

"I'll be up in an hour," I say quietly, acting all meek and submissive, just like my father would expect me to.

The lies I told about Ben earlier echo in my head, each one a knife to my heart. But they served their purpose. My father believes I'm finally broken, finally submissive enough to accept whatever fate he designs for me.

Whereas inside, I'm horrified, and for the first time, I'm realizing just how little he cares about me. The man who raised me, who I've spent years trying to please, sees me as nothing more than breeding stock to be traded away.

I always knew I was the black sheep. I always knew he wasn't proud of me, but this is a step too far.

Through our mate bond, I feel Ben's protective instincts surging, feel how badly he wants to turn around and tear my father apart. I send him what calm I can, praying he understands that I have a plan.

This makes my plan easier. Instead of some elaborate scheme to sneak John and Ben out under the cover of darkness, the weight of years of fear and submission falls away as clarity strikes.

I'm going to have to kill my father, and I'm not going to be too sad about it.

My beast, so often cowed by his presence, rumbles in agreement.

If he tries to harm me or our mate, he has to die. No more. The thought should horrify me more than it does, but after hearing him casually discuss trading me away like cattle, after watching him threaten my mate, something inside me has finally snapped.

I just pray Ben can forgive me for the lies I’ve told, and for the hurt that I’ve caused. That somehow, he'll understand that everything—the betrayal, the cruel words, all of it—was to keep him alive long enough for us to end this properly.