A Loaded Gun

Chapter 18

Marcus POV

I was a mess. I haven't heard from Lucas, and even though I was trying, I couldn't gain access to the subway station security cameras. 

Some bastard either didn't care about his family or didn't take my threat seriously, because he wouldn't give me the tapes. 

I growled angrily at the computer, glaring at the screen that refused to magically show me where Brooke was. 

Suddenly the phone rang, and I swept everything off my desk to find the stupid thing. I pressed the button without checking the caller ID and said, "Speak."

"Marcus, it's Lucas. I found her, she's safe. We're heading back. If Benny even breathes in the same vicinity as her, I'm driving her back to the station and putting her on a subway." 

I guess he wasn't happy with my plan either.

"I promise he'll be far away from her." I understood his anger; we almost lost her because I wanted to put her face-to-face with her potential abuser. 

Pressing the "end" button, I switched to the intercom and let Michael and Daniel know that she was found.

"And Daniel, lock him up. I don't care what you do, just make sure she can't hear him scream."

"With pleasure," he said icily. I guess he was still mad at me.

We all heard the familiar rumble of the garage opening as the car accelerated up the driveway. In unison, we rushed out the front door and stood outside, holding our breath as the passenger side door opened.

Brooke stepped out timidly, clutching her bunny to her chest and staring at us fearfully. Lucas took her hand, whispering softly to her and causing her to relax. 

Michael rushed forward and she tensed, primed to run. He slowly outstretched his arms, careful not to scare her, and asked for a hug. 

At her nod, he wrapped his arms around her gently to not aggravate her ribs. She relaxed in his embrace, and Lucas nodded for Daniel and I to come forward. 

Her eyes widened and she tensed when I approached, and a stab of pain hit my heart. It was understandable, but still hurtful.

Daniel hurried to her side and hugged her. I wasn't sure if she would want me to be close to her, so I hung back. 

She studied me carefully before nodding her head, allowing me to come closer. I wrapped my arms around her and whispered "è tutta colpa mia, sorella."

A/N Italian: è tutta colpa mia, sorella English: It's all my fault, sister

She stared at me, not with a look of confusion like I was expecting, but with a look of understanding. 

She said she didn't speak Italian, but she seemed to know what I said. I made a note to ask her about that later.

No words were spoken as we walked into the living room. Lucas situated himself next to Brooke on the chaise and nodded at me. I took that as my cue to start talking.

"Brooke, why did you run?"

Brooke POV

Trust is strange. You think you have a fix on someone, then they stab you in the back. At least, that's been my experience. 

Case in point: I thought I had my brothers pegged, then they brought Benny here. In goes the knife, out goes the trust.

But now I see them being gentle with me, and reassuring me that I won't go back to Benny, and I don't know what to think. 

The way they're acting makes me want to trust them, but past experiences tell me not to.

I haven't been treated the way they treat me since Mom died. Should I trust them? My traumatized side is saying no, but my hopeful side says yes. 

For once, I'm with the hopeful side. I took a deep breath and started talking.

"I heard Benny, and...I thought you were sending me back. I didn't want that."

"Why not?" Marcus' voice was barely a whisper.

Now I'm second-guessing telling them. I didn't want to look at them, so I closed my eyes and leaned back before speaking. "He...he hurt me. I didn't want that again."

"How did he hurt you, Brooke?" Benny said not to tell anyone. But Benny's not here. But he was. But he's not now. The conflict raging inside me blocked out all noise.

"Brooke? You ok?" One voice rose above the internal argument. I opened my eyes to see Daniel's worried eyes.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine. He would...he would call me names and stuff. Slap me a few times."

I kept it vague, the threats from Benny echoing in my mind.

"What else did he do Brooke? I know he did more than that."

I exhaled shakily. "You don't know what he did. You can't know."

"Brooke, we understand how you feel. You can talk to us. Please, we want to help."

I snapped. "You weren't there to help 5 years ago. Don't even assume you know what I went through, because I know damn well you have no idea."

"Broo–"

I could feel the anger rising. I was a loaded gun. Cocked, about to fire. They had no idea what I went through. But if they want to know, they're getting all the details. Well, all but one.

"No. No talking. You wanted me to tell you? Just know you brought this on yourself. Benny abused me heavily from the time Mom died till the day he was arrested.

"He used weapons–knives, whips, and broken glass–on me. He would beat me up until I passed out. He punched me in the nose and ribs because I talked back and poured boiling water on me for not having dinner ready when I was 13.

"He told me I was unlovable. A mistake. He told me my mother hated me."

"Brooke, it's okay, you don't have to–" I couldn't tell whose voice it was, but it sounded anguished.

"No, you wanted to hear this. He hurt me beyond belief, and you suspected it. But you still had the nerve to bring my abuser to the place I live–God I can't even call it a home–bring me face-to-face with him to confirm it? That is absolutely despicable.

"I had a damn good reason for not telling you. You really think I'm going to trust 4 guys I met like 3 days ago? 

"I know you're hiding a secret, but I'm not forcing you to give it up. I assumed the same courtesy would be extended to me. I guess I was wrong.

"Instead of letting me tell you on my own time, you tried to force it out of me by putting me in a terrible position. 

"I don't even have the words to describe how terrified I was when I heard his voice. It's a fear YOU'VE never known, and no matter how much you hurt me, I hope to God you never do."

I wrestled myself out of Lucas' arms.

"Also, non soli estis qui aliam linguam loqui possunt. Look it up."

Then I did what I always did: ran.

A/N: Latin: Non soli estis qui aliam linguam loqui possunt

English: You aren't the only ones who can speak another language