Deviation (Clone Chronicles #2)(42)

He nods, eyes still closed, and exhales a deliberate breath.

“Your kisses are that good,” I add, low enough I hope no one else hears.

Linc’s eyes crack open and his mouth curves into the barest hint of a wry smile. It makes my own curve in victory. For now, he isn’t torturing himself about my face.

“Why are you hitting Daniel?” I ask and his amusement fades into a dark glare. He aims it at Daniel, who is still against the wall but has slumped to a sitting position as he watches the show. Without a word, Linc’s gaze sweeps away and he gestures with his chin.

“Her.”

It takes me a minute to see who he means. I blink into the shadows and then I see it. Wedged into the impossibly narrow space between the cot’s metal frame and the concrete floor is a body. I can hardly make out the face behind the rat’s nest of hair that half-covers it. Clothing is torn and the only thing that alerts me to gender is the remnant of a pink robe that hangs off one dark-skinned shoulder. Just above that, a pair of terrified eyes blinks back at me.

“Is that Sofia?” I ask, finally placing the face within my memory. I haven’t seen her since our tennis match weeks ago.

“Yes.” Linc’s answer is short and full of fury.

“Why is she here?” I begin to understand, though my brain tries to shove it away and deny the possibility of the scene before me until there is no other option left. “Did Daniel—?”

“No.”

I am sick with relief.

“Not for lack of trying,” Linc adds.

“I don’t understand.” I shake my head in an attempt to dispel the renewed ache in my temples.

Behind me, Deitrich steps closer as if readying to grab me again. Linc gives him a look so fierce, he backs away again and whispers something into his earpiece. We probably have only seconds before we’re separated, no matter what Linc says next. I’m surprised we haven’t been yet.

“It was my punishment for earlier,” Linc explains. He swallows. “To watch.”

My insides curl and burn with the poison of what he’s just said. I understand enough of the “why” that I don’t want to know any more. I shouldn’t be surprised at the length Titus has gone to punish Linc while still honoring our deal, but I am. Maybe it’s my own naiveté, but his evil has reached new heights for me today.

There is a commotion at the door and Deitrich moves aside. Titus stares back at us, his stony expression giving away nothing. Behind him, Alton is like an obedient statue.

“Raven,” Titus greets me. There is no surprise in his voice and I have no doubt he’s watched and listened to our entire exchange. Underneath my fingers, Linc’s arms flex and tighten. I drop my hands to my sides when I realize I’m still touching him in front of Titus. Not that it matters now.

“Linc,” Titus says and somehow the name sounds distasteful falling from his lips. He glances at Daniel and then back again, his blank expression unchanged. “You were supposed to stand and watch.” He doesn’t sound angry that Linc broke the rules, though, and somehow I know this was his plan all along.

“You knew I wouldn’t,” Linc says evenly.

Titus shrugs as if he couldn’t care less either way. “You and I have an understanding now.”

“And what understanding is that, sir?” Linc says, sarcasm heaviest on the last word.

Titus steps closer. Anger flashes. “The next time you want to put your hands on my daughter, you’ll remember the price is an eye for an eye. You touch her, Daniel touches someone else.”

Linc doesn’t respond. I don’t have to touch his arms to know the muscles underneath are flexing and bunching as he imagines ripping Titus to shreds. I know because I am doing the same, though Linc is far more capable. I understand why Titus didn’t physically attack Linc in any way. One look at Linc’s face and I know this is a far worse punishment than physical injury or even death. Linc cannot stand the anguish that comes from knowing someone was hurt because of him.

At that moment, I don’t care if Titus is standing over us. My heart aches to comfort him. And maybe to defy Titus in some small way. I reach out and slide my fingers into his palm. Before I can intertwine them in his, he shakes me off and shoves his hands inside his pockets.

Titus smiles and it’s the worst kind of smile I’ve ever seen. It’s victory. “Good choice,” he tells Linc.

I want to claw his lips off his face.

There is movement in the doorway and then another face joins the crowd. Josephine slips in behind Alton and stops just behind Titus, speaking low in his ear. He nods and she makes her way to Daniel, crouching beside him as she begins to examine his wounds.

The sight of her is my undoing.

I remember the loosening feeling left behind as she stroked my hair earlier. The piece of me that relaxed against the soothing affection she gave me. And the way it evaporated when I realized she’d lied. She knew exactly what was going on here. Was probably on call for when it was over to treat whoever was most wounded in the end. That knowledge, combined with the horrific way everyone present acts like it’s normal to assault girls and beat men senseless for fun, unravels me.

In this moment, I am empty except for the rage. It is consuming and numbing. The pounding in my head is gone. The taut pull of my skin around my engorged cheek vanishes. My vision clouds with red. I imagine it as blood pouring from Titus.