VOLKO

Chapter Thirty-Nine

I'd arrived back at Robert's house two days ago, since then the house had been oddly quiet. Nobody met my glaze, they walked passed with their heads down. Dean was nowhere to be seen, my father had said Dean had urgent business to attend to, yet when I spoke to Will he avoided the question, asking why I cared so much.

Jake appeared tenser than normal, and his relationship with Robert for once seemed to be going well. With Dean away the pair exchanged many private conversations in Robert's office. Don't get me wrong, seeing them working together was great, I just wish I didn't have to feel like an outsider. Before it had felt like Jake and I were outsiders together. Now I had nobody.

Dean not being here made it harder to keep the negative thoughts in check. Had he known Robert needed to send him away before I left? Maybe he'd asked to go away, making up some urgent business to simply avoid me.

Victoria's absence hadn't gone unnoticed either. I'd asked Jake about her, he'd become flushed, much like Will he began asking me questions about my questions.

Nobody would give me straight forward answers.

No doubt Will would have informed everyone of our return. Conor definitely seemed to be enjoying the new dynamics. He strolled around the place with a spring in his step. Never missing a chance to make vague comments, as if he knew something I didn't. Maybe he did, everyone else seemed to.

I'd never felt more isolated. Had all the plans I'd dreamed up at the Cotton's gone to shit?

On the third day back I went in search of Will, my aim was simple. Demand him to tell me where Dean was or at least give me a number I could contact him on. If Dean was going to avoid me, I'd make it as difficult as possible.

By the time I'd reached the bottom of the stairs I'd rehearsed the words I'd say to him about fifty times, trying to make myself sound strong but not rude. At the end of the day, I liked Will. I didn't want to ruin the tiny friendship we'd built over a guy ghosting me.

As my foot left the last step, the bang of a door hitting a wall with force rocketed around the entrance hall. I stopped still, in three days, that was the loudest noise I'd heard.

What followed made my blood run cold. Conor and another guy dragged a man wearing only shorts towards Robert's office. They struggled from the muscle of the man weighing him down.

Covering his body were bruises, each seemed to be a different colour telling how long he'd been down there. Some appeared dark purple to the point of black, whilst old ones had begun to turn a gross greeny yellow colour.

Amongst the bruises were smears of blood, that could have been from the hundreds of small cuts. My eyes burned from the sight of the man, yet I remained silent, scared at the sight in front of me. Time stood still as no detail escaped my view.

The man looked dead, his knees nearly touched the floor from his heaviness. The arms Conor and the other man held were limp. When I noticed the raw bloody mess of his fingers, sick fought at the back of my throat to be released, as I realised the man's fingernails had been removed.

His head hung low, hiding his face from me, then suddenly I knew who it was. My feet moved without me knowing it.

"Dean?" It came out as a question but I already knew the answer. Conor turned not expecting to see me there. "What are you doing?" I demanded, not taking my eyes off the man I loved.

At the sound of my voice, Dean weakly lifted his head. His face twisted in pain from the action causing my heart to ache.

The agony in his grey depth was like a punch to the stomach, the strong man I'd come to love and respect had been stripped of everything but his underwear and dragged through the house beaten and bloody.