The Dead Among Us

8. Two and two

Fabia's POV 

I sprint up the stairs and fling open the door to the bedroom. The sight that greets me is undeniably adorable, but I can't appreciate it. My emotions are a chaotic whirlwind—a jumble of unanswered questions, concern, and a touch of bitterness that I struggle to untangle.

Sabin and Benji are cuddled on the bed. She's still taking in hiccuped breaths, even in her sleep, from how hard she was crying earlier. She's haphazardly sprawled out on the bed with only her head cradled in his arms.

The breeze from the open window slams the door shut as I enter, startling Sabin awake. He stirs In a start, rubbing his eyes, and our gazes lock. It's as if he can read my mind, sensing the urgency in my unspoken need to talk. 

With a frustrated glance, he gently scoops up Benji and carries her to her own bed down the hall. The tension in the room is palpable.

As he returns, he shuts the door and drops himself on the edge of the bed, facing me, leaning on his knees with his elbows.

"You didn't have to slam the door," he chides me, and I'm offended he thought I did.

"That was the wind," I mutter, looking around at the mess. 

My eyes meet the wooden spoon, and my heart races. Seeing and hearing him use it stirred something inside me, something I'd never felt before—a fear mixed with intrigue and curiosity. At that moment, too, I realize I need to stand up for these kids. There's no way in hell I'm letting him act out his anger of me on that little girl.

My anger bubbles up, and I let it out: " If you're mad at me, that's fine; that's on you for bringing me here. But don't ever let it out on those kids again!"

His brows skyrocket, and his jaw tenses. I watch as his lip protrudes from his tongue, moving around in his mouth. I made him mad. I don't care.

"First of all," he finally speaks, and his tone is dark. "Don't ever question my methods again, especially when it comes to my brother and sister! I love those two more than anything! I'm only still breathing today because of them! ... She stole, disobeyed, and caught a fucking barn on fire; her punishment had nothing to do with you!"

My stomach drops. I had no idea she was responsible for the fire. I gulp and look down, feeling a bit foolish.

"That being said," he says, a bit calmer, and I return my gaze. "I do appreciate you already having protectiveness over them..."

He rises and closes the window. I can't quite explain why, but a sense of unease washes over me. Is there a reason behind it, or does he just want it closed?

As he lingers by the window, I find myself gazing at him in admiration, feeling a warm flush on my cheeks and a fluttering sensation in my stomach.

I don't even know this man, and I don't entirely like what I've witnessed. What's wrong with me?

"Sabin," I say or more rasp out.

His head tilts in my direction, waiting for me to continue.

"What am I?" I beg this time. "Should I leave?"

"You can't," he says, turning to face me. The soft glow of the natural light from the window casts a gentle silhouette behind him.

"What the fuck am I?!"

"Stop screaming," he warns, his hand going up.

"Then tell me what the fuck I am?! Why am I here?!"

He bites his lip, getting angry.

I shriek, "TELL ME!!"

"You're mine!"

"In what fucking way?" 

I can't help it; I'm crying. This is beyond frustrating. What did I get myself into not getting out of that truck? And what does he mean I can't leave? How will he stop me?

"I don't know!" he yells back. 

"Yes, you fucking do!"

"No, I know what Pierre and his disciples will say you are, but I don't know if that's what I want!" he unexpectedly grabs his mouth, his eyes shooting toward the door before whispering. "We can't talk about this, Fa... please just trust me..."

I storm towards him, speaking quieter but in no way less angry, "What will they call me? What is this place?"

"I'm protecting you, please..."

"FROM WHAT?!"

My eyes bulge as he clamps his hands over my mouth, and I'm discovering how strong he actually is.

"Shut up," he whispers through clenched teeth.

"Why?..." it mumbled under his massive hand, but he understood me.

"Just...do!" he lets me go, and I gasp as he does. "You want answers?" he then growls, getting in my face. I nod. "You're either my mistress or my slave! Bri was my girl! Not you! Put two and two together!"

With that, he storms out of the room, leaving me there shaking.

I need to get the fuck out of here...

*** 

Sabin's POV 

 I check on Benji before I head down the stairs. She's still sprawled out on her bed, just as I left her. The sight of her triggers a wave of nostalgia, reminding me of those post-whoopin' naps; they hit like nothing else, a bittersweet memory of my childhood.

Why does she sleep like that, though?

With a shake of my head, I turn to the stairs. As I reach the bottom step, I'm met with the sight of Papi in the kitchen, his gaze fixed on me. 

Papi, always the attentive one, always watching.

"What, Pa?"

"Nothing,"

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason," he gibes and leaves toward the door. I know he has to go back to work soon; I forgot it was lunchtime.

"It's not what it looks like," I protest as he begins pushing the door open. 

He hesitates, turning to look back at me with a skeptical expression. He doesn't believe me. He thinks this is my attempt to fill the void left by Bri. It stings his lack of trust—not that it's any of his business, really.

"The kids don't have school today," he announces, seemingly changing the subject. The sudden shift in topic throws me off.

"Yeah, I know," I reply, unsure of where he's going with this.

"Since you're getting Fabia used to things, I assume you have permission to be home. Will you be looking after them, or are they going to Jessica's after lunch?"

"They're not babies," I mock, but his raised eyebrow silences me. He's always been excessively protective of them. Jon would argue that they could manage to stay home alone.

"I've got it covered," I reassure him. I had intended to stay home today anyway.

As he exits, I roll my eyes. Only a moment later, the door swings open once more.

"Clean your room!" he commands before finally leaving for good.

I turn away, and my gaze meets Kenny, still on the couch. He's enjoying this day off.

"Did you know what your sister was up to this morning?" I ask, crossing my arms to convey my seriousness. He better not have, for his sake.

"What did she do?" he asks, glancing around; he definitely looks guilty.

"With my lighter?" I prob, trying to jog his memory.

"Your lighter?" he echoes back, his face all scrunched up.

I change my mind. Now he looks honestly confused. Either that or he is a convincingly good actor. I let it go, giving him the benefit of the doubt and head to the kitchen for some lunch. I'm not in the mood to dish out another spanking anyway.