Strictly Prohibited ➳ THE HUNGER GAMES ✔️

|09| Nothing Good Ever Comes From Violence

Chapter 9 x

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Sorry for the wait ! I had/have exams xx

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Gloss's POV

Cashmere stumbles into the room with blood streaming from her nose and mouth. I'm on my feet in seconds, rushing over to catch her as she staggers and nearly falls. There's a bruise forming on her cheek and the livid rage starts to build up inside me, a fire that I know won't burn out. I know that some of her clients aren't exactly gentle, but I haven't ever seen her beaten up this badly. Whoever did this won't live to see tomorrow, of that I'm certain. No one has the right to treat my sister like this. I will hunt down whoever did this, and snap their neck.

"Who was it?" I demand.

Cashmere regains her composure quickly. She's always been like that. She snaps back so easily that it's frightening. She straightens herself and strides into the bathroom, picking up a flannel and washing the blood off her face. I watch her incredulously from the doorway. I want to help her, I have to. She's my sister. The only problem is that I know she won't let me. So I have to take matters into my own hands.

"It doesn't matter, Gloss," Cashmere replies absently, washing the blood off the flannel. I watch it run red down the drain. My hands clench into fists of rage. I will find out who did this, no matter the cost.

"It matters to me," I insist, slamming my fist into the wall. I can't help the anger that washes over me, holding me under. I could take the pain to myself. My knuckles now throb, but it's not me I care about. It's the fact that the Capitolians are hurting Cashmere, the only one in my family who understands me now, who isn't afraid of me. "Dammit, Cash! Tell me his name!"

"Hyperion Dormer." It's not Cashmere, but Storm. I whirl around and notice that she's standing in the corridor, watching me with an impassive expression. How can she be so calm if she knows who the man is that did this? "He's a former Gamemaker."

I think it's meant to be a warning. Storm knows what happens when I lose control of myself, and by informing me of Hyperion's high rank in the Capitol she hopes that I'll have the sense to leave him be. Only, I'm beyond caring about rank anymore. I will pummel the living daylights out of this man no matter what. If Storm thinks that someone's station means they can treat people like shit, she can think again.

Hyperion Dormer...the name rings a bell. I think he was in charge of the 71st or 72nd Hunger Games. I think of a man in his early thirties, with dark hair and a permanent sneer. I'm almost certain that's him, and disgust courses through me. Hasn't he tortured tributes enough in the arena? Why does he feel the need to harm my sister? There's a fury boiling inside me and no one can calm it down this time, not Cashmere, not Storm. Only my fist making contact with that bastard's face. I stalk out of the room. Storm hurries after me, catching my arm.

"Gloss, no, wait. Hyperion will have you killed if you try anything..."

"I don't care anymore!" I swing around to face her, teeth bared in rage. She flinches back, perhaps thinking I might hit her – but there's only one target of my wrath today, and it's not her. "Don't you see how much it hurts her? Don't you understand how sick I feel, seeing these men using my sister like she's a whore? I've had enough, Storm. No more."

Her eyes are wide with horror. She realises that I mean every word of it. I would gladly kill Hyperion, but the problem is I don't want the Capitol to hurt Cashmere. Let them punish me all they want, because my sister has suffered enough. I twist my arm from Storm's grasp and stalk out into the corridor. I will Hyperion Dormer if it's the last thing I do. Storm trails after me somewhat reluctantly, although I don't understand why.