Chaos erupted. The girls, all pets of the grown men, suddenly came to life, ignoring every command, rushing under the outstretched arms of their masters, some even striking out as they flew by, flinging themselves at the brute, kicking, biting, pulling hair, attempting to drag him backward and down under the sheer weight of their little bodies as they tried to protect Absinthe.
The mutiny was over in minutes. The brute swung his massive fists at the little girls, kicking with his boots, knocking their bodies around, clearly breaking bones. Absinthe, broken and bloody, tried to stop him, but the other men quickly pulled him away. He was more valuable to them than the girls. He could train others. They couldn’t get another trainer, but they could get more pets.
The brute wasn’t satisfied, not even when he had all the girls on the ground, bloody and barely moving. He stomped on them, spit and kicked. He stalked out and returned, splashing a liquid on the walls of the room and then over the girls. When one tried to rise, he casually kicked her in the face and poured more of the liquid over her.
Absinthe began to yell. Scarlet had never seen or heard him raise his voice. He tried to use the power of his voice to stop the brute, but one of the men clapped his hand over his mouth, to keep the brute from turning his attention to the teenager. Absinthe struggled wildly. He was strong, but it was impossible when there were so many grown men muscling him from the building.
The brute stalked to the doorway, casually turned, an evil smirk on his face. He tossed a match inside and shut the door, immediately barricading it so no one could get out. Within seconds flames roared, climbing up the walls, raging toward the ceiling, breaking out the glass so that air fueled the hungry blaze, turning it into an inferno.
Outside, the men released Absinthe, who rushed the building completely nude, stripping away the barricade with his bare hands. The brute laughed and pointed to him, nudging the others, making bets that he wouldn’t enter with the entire room engulfed in flames when he was naked.
Scarlet knew better. She held her breath as he ripped the door open, threw his arm over his face and started inside. Before he could take another step, two others caught him from behind and dragged him back outside. She recognized Savage and Steele. Absinthe turned on them viciously, fighting, punching with his fists, head-butting, kicking with precise, beautifully executed kicks. Savage blocked, but didn’t fight back, keeping his attention while Steele circled behind him. Another boy, one who looked like an older version of Absinthe, came up behind him as well and wrapped him up in hard arms, taking him to the ground, holding him down.
The screams of the trapped girls and the smell of burning flesh were horrific. The night turned orange and red as the roof collapsed and the pitiful cries ceased abruptly. Absinthe let out a wail, the sound like that of a wounded animal. Then, abruptly, he went silent. His brother got off of him slowly and reached down to help him up.
Absinthe didn’t take his hand. He didn’t look at any of the other boys. He stood in silence as he was directed by one of the men to go to the long building in the distance. He did so, stumbling like a zombie, his expression blank, looking like he was in shock. The three other boys followed behind him.
Next, Scarlet saw Alena bending over Absinthe while his brother and Savage held him, Steele examining him, Alena trying to coax him to eat. The scent of cinnamon and orange was heavy in the air. Clearly, Absinthe was willing himself to die, refusing to eat.
The bedroom door swung closed, the sound loud in the silence, startling Scarlet, bringing her back to the present. She turned around, pulling out of his mind, shocked and very happy to see Savage was back.
“Thank God. Something’s wrong with Absinthe. He’s having a flashback. He’s so far in his mind, he’s gone, Savage. I can’t reach him.” She couldn’t. Not through their connection. Not shouting his name. Not pinching him. She felt like the four helpless teens desperately trying to save him when Absinthe was starving himself, willing himself to die.
Savage’s ice-cold gaze jumped to Absinthe’s face and he let out a groan. “No. Damn it, Absinthe. Don’t fuckin’ do this.” He swung around and took two steps toward the door. Both heard the truck leaving the drive. Steele was gone.
“He clearly has done this before. How did you get him back?” Scarlet might feel desperate inside, but she was cool on the outside. She wasn’t going to lose her husband to his past. He had every right to suffer post-traumatic stress syndrome, but his demons weren’t going to swallow him whole.