Lover Revealed (Black Dagger Brotherhood 4)

"You going to fall in love with him now, too? Brothers might get jealous."

John glared over at Lash. The guy was smiling as he washed his little chest, a thick diamond chain catching the suds.

"Yo, Blay, you better not drop that soap. John-boy over here's eyeing your meat like you read about."

Blaylock ignored the comment.

"Yo, Blay. You heard me? Or you daydreaming about John-boy on his knees?"

John stepped in front of Lash, blocking his view of the other guy.

"Oh, please, like you're going to protect him?" Lash eyed Blaylock. "Blay doesn't need protecting by anyone, does he. He's a biiiiiiiiig man now, aren't you, Blay? Tell me, if John here wants to get you off, you going to let him? Bet you will. Bet you can't wait for it. The two of you are going to make such a - "

John lunged forward, took Lash down to the wet tile, and... beat him senseless.

It was like he was on autopilot. He just hit the guy in the face over and over again, his fists riding a wave of anger until the shower floor ran bright red all the way to the drain. And no matter how many hands grabbed at John's shoulders, he ignored them and kept pounding.

Until suddenly he was airlifted off of Lash.

He fought whoever it was that held him, fought and scratched even as he was dimly aware that the rest of the class had shrunk back in fear.

And John kept fighting and screaming without making a sound as he was hauled out of the shower. Out of the locker room. Down the hall. He clawed and punched until he was thrown onto the blue mats of the gym floor and the breath got knocked from him.

For a moment, all he could do was stare up at the caged ceiling lights, but when he realized he was being held down, the fight rushed back. Baring his teeth, he bit the thick wrist that was closest to his mouth.

Abruptly, he was flipped over onto his stomach and a huge weight gouged into his back. "Wrath! No!"

The name registered only nominally. The queen's voice even less so. John was beyond angry, burning uncontrollably, flailing around.

"You're hurting him!"

"Stay out of this, Beth!" The king's hard voice shot into John's ear. "You finished yet, son? Or you want to go another round with those teeth of yours?"

John struggled even though he couldn't move and his strength was flagging.

"Wrath, please let him up - "

"This is between him and me, leelan. I want you to go to the locker room and deal with the other half of this mess. That kid on the tile is going to have to be taken to Havers."

There was a curse and then the sound of a door shutting.

Wrath's voice came back right next to the side of John's head. "You think popping one of those guys is going to make you a man?"

John heaved against the load on his back, not caring that it was the king. All that mattered, all that he felt, was the fury that ran through his veins.

"You think making that idiot with the fly mouth bleed is going to get you into the Brotherhood? Do you?"

John struggled harder. At least until a heavy hand landed on the back of his neck and his face had a communion with the floor mats.

"I don't need thugs. I need soldiers. You want to know the difference? Soldiers think." More pressure on his neck until John couldn't even blink for the bug eyes he was sporting. "Soldiers think."

All at once the weight was gone, and John took a heaving, sucking breath, the air dragging over his front teeth and hammering down his throat.

More breathing. More breathing.

"Get up."

Fuck you, John thought. But he pushed at the mat. Unfortunately, his stupid, weak-ass body felt like it was chained to the floor. He literally couldn't lift himself.

"Get up."

Fuck you.

"What did you say to me?" John got yanked off the ground by the armpits and came face-to-face with the king. Who was savagely pissed off.

Fear struck John hard, the reality of how badly he'd lost it dawning on him.

Wrath bared fangs that seemed as long as John's legs. "You think I can't hear you just because you can't talk?"

John's feet dangled for a moment and then he was dropped. When his knees failed him, he crumpled to the mats.

Wrath stared down with contempt. "It's a good goddamned thing Tohr isn't around right now."

Not fair, John wanted to yell. Not fair.

"You think Tohr would have been impressed by this?"

John thrust himself off the floor and wobbled to a stand, glaring up at Wrath.

Don't say that name, he mouthed. Don't say his name.

From out of nowhere, pain lanced through his temples. Then, in his mind, he heard Wrath's voice saying the word Tohrment again and again. Clamping his hands over his ears, he tripped over his feet, backing away.

Wrath followed, coming forward, the name getting louder until it was a screaming, relentless, pounding chant. Then John saw the face, Tohr's face, clear as if it were before him. The navy blue eyes. The short dark military hair. The hard features.

John opened his mouth and started to scream. No sound came out, but he kept at it until the crying took over. Swamped by heartache, missing the only father he'd known, he covered his eyes and hunched his shoulders, falling in on himself as he wept.

The instant he caved it all went away: His mind silenced. The vision disappeared.

Strong arms gathered him up.

John started screaming again, but now in agony, not anger. With nowhere to turn, he clutched at Wrath's huge shoulders. All he wanted was the hurting to stop... He wanted the pain in him, the stuff he tried to bury deep, to go away. He was raw with emotion from the losses in his life and the tragedies of circumstance, nothing but bruises on the inside.

"Shit..." Wrath rocked him gently. "It's all right, son. God... damn."

Chapter Thirty-two

Marissa got out of the Mercedes then ducked back in. "Will you please wait, Fritz? I want to go to the rental house after this."

"Of course, mistress."

She turned and looked at the back entrance of Havers's clinic, wondering whether he would even let her in.

"Marissa."

She turned around. "Oh, God... Butch." She ran over to the Escalade. "I'm so glad you called me. Are you okay? Are they?"

"Yeah. They're getting checked out."

"And you?"

"Fine. Just fine. I figured I'd wait outside, though, because... you know."

Yes, Havers wouldn't be too happy to see him. Probably wasn't going to like running into her, either.

Marissa glanced toward the clinic's back entrance. "The mother and child... they can't go home after this, can they?"

"No way. The lessers know about the house, so it isn't safe. And frankly, there wasn't much there anyway."

"What about the mother's hellren?"

"He's been... taken care of."

God, she shouldn't feel relieved that there had been a death, but she was. At least until she thought of Butch in the field.

"I love you," she blurted. "That's why I don't want to have you fighting. If I lost you for any reason, my life would be over."

His eyes widened, and she realized they hadn't spoken of love for what seemed like forever. But she was rule number one-ing this. She'd hated spending the daylight hours away from him, hated the distance between them, and she wasn't letting it go on anymore on her side.

Butch stepped in close, his hands going to her face. "Christ, Marissa... you don't know what it means to hear you say that. I need to know that. Need to feel that."

He kissed her softly, whispering loving things against her mouth, and as she trembled, he held her with care. There were things still left awkwardly between them, but none of that mattered at the moment. She just needed to reconnect with him.

When he pulled back a little, she said, "I'm going to go inside, but will you wait? I'd like to show you my new house."

He ran his fingertip lightly down her cheek. Though his eyes grew sad, he said, "Yeah, I'll wait. And I would love to see where you're going to live."

"I won't be long."

She kissed him again and then headed off to the clinic entrance. As she felt like an intruder, it was a surprise to be admitted inside without a fuss, but she knew that didn't mean things were going to go smoothly. While she rode down in the elevator, she fiddled with her hair. She was nervous about seeing Havers. Would there be a scene?

When she walked into the waiting area, the nursing staff knew exactly what she'd come for and she was taken down to a patient room. She knocked on the door and stiffened.