19: Tears

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**Trigger warning for r*pe, bl*des, dr*gs, and torture. If you're easily triggered by those things stop reading now. Though to be fair I tried to be as mild as possible.**

Harken's P.O.V.

"You win," I told a smug Blake. I hated every second of what was happening. It was me succumbing to Blake's will. I just wanted to get my fix. "I'll do whatever you want,"

He smiled triumphantly. "I knew you would. You wouldn't disobey your older brother, would you?"

"I guess," I was shivering all over, and I just wanted this tragedy to end. It was still hard to focus, my vision blurring every now and then.

At House of Solace I'd learn that it was drug withdrawal symptoms, and there was a huge possibility that it could've lead me to suicide, or cause some irreversible injury to myself.

"So," Blake began, "there's someone in the warehouse. Down in the basement, you'll find two chairs: One occupied with the guy down there, and the other empty, waiting," He walked slowly to his closet and pulled up a plastic Ziploc bag that had a small vial inside it. My skin crawled, feeling a hint of the release I'd get for finally getting rid of the itch I had. "Next to the chairs," He held the bag in front his face, "there's a table- you know the table, the one we stack our beers on when we gather there,"

I nodded. I knew the warehouse and the basement. Him detailing it to me was unnecessary, but I let him go on, albeit I was growing impatient. My stomach was starting to turn, too. I couldn't see where it was going, which added to my overall frustration.

My mind was too foggy and I was growing jittery and agitated. I needed my fix, and I needed it now.

"On that table, there's a knife," I froze. All the fog inside my head cleared. "You grab it, and decorate his body with it," he said lastly.

"Bullshit," I spat. "I'm not doing your dirty bidding, Blake,"

"Oh but you will," he swung the bag in my face. He really thought he could tempt me with it. If I didn't help him when he tried to rape Raiden, I wouldn't help him with this.

I didn't know then that the guy he was about to torture was Aiden Haile. I was hurt because he stood me up and didn't come for our meet-up at Betsy's. My pain was short-lived, though. Because in the upcoming few hours, Blake would tell me that he had Aiden tied up in the warehouse's basement, and I had to torture him.

"I'm not going to do anything to Aiden. You can keep your fucking cocktails. I'm done with everything related to you,"

"Oh," his eyes beamed. He was enjoying it. Like he was winning a challenge or something. It made me feel sick. "If you don't do what I tell you to, I'm going to do it myself,"

I froze. Whatever I would do to Aiden, Blake would do ten times more. Then and there I hated his guts.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care about him,"

"Uh huh, so you say,"

I started biting my nail. Blake and I had it this way since childhood. He won everything. Every argument, every game, every fucking thing. Something told me he was going to win this situation, too.

"When I'm done with him, he's going to be unrecognizable,"

"You won't do anything to him or else-"

"Or else what? You'll tell mom?"

I couldn't tell mom because then he'd tell her I take drugs.

He couldn't tell her that I slept with a boy because Blake has had his fair share of boys.

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