Taivon: Book Three of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Thirty-Five

Taivon tried to turn away, but he just couldn't.

He heard gagging, like Thrane was about to throw up. It sounded like Thrane was crying. His older brother's hands clawed at the man's thighs, as if he were trying to push himself away. Above him, Evan's eyes were closed, and his lips were muttering curse words, calling his brother names. Terrible, degrading names.

The man was using his brother.

Violating his brother.

He didn't even feel himself moving. No, all he knew was that his legs were eating up the distance between him and the guy who was hurting Thrane. All he heard was the blood as it pounded through his head, making his ears ring.

Then, he felt his hands gripping Evan's shoulders and the weight of the older man's wiry body as he literally threw him onto the ground. Evan landed with a crash. Taivon didn't let him get up. He kicked the older man's side, and then kicked, and then kicked some more.

Small hands gripped his shoulders, and he let them drag him back. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't see. Could barely hear. Everything seemed washed in dull, gray colors.

Eventually, he came down from whatever adrenaline-induced high he was on. Everything began to come back into color. He was sitting on a hale bay. Maybe even the same bale that he and Alix been lying on just a little while ago. He didn't hurt anywhere, but his insides sure did, twisting into painful knots.

“Taiv,” that familiar voice whispered.

“Where's Th-Th-Th-Thrane?”

Taivon didn't wait for her answer; he stood up and went back to that corner of the barn. Evan wasn't there on the ground anymore, but Thrane was still there. His head was in his hands, and his shoulders shook, his entire body convulsing as sobs wracked him.

“Alix,” he said, softly. “Go guh-guh-get Trace. Don't t-t-t-tell anyone. Just get T-T-Trace.”

Just like how Taivon had his favorite brothers, so did Thrane. And Trace was just that. His younger brother was also a cop, but he didn't worry about that now. He just wanted to get his brother into the house quietly.

Smoothing a hand across Thrane's sweaty forehead, Taivon plopped down beside him and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. Thrane was sobbing so hard that his body was shaking. He didn't lift his head, even when the barn door opened up again and Trace came running in.

“Let's get him into the house,” Trace murmured and hoisted Thrane up.

Thrane tried to get out of their grasp. “No!”

Taivon didn't budge, and neither did Trace. Their older brother struggled for a whole three seconds longer before giving up and leaning heavily on the both of them. Thrane heaved in breath after breath, hands fisting at both their arms.

When they got him in the house, they took him straight to his room upstairs and set him onto the bed. He buried his face in his pillow as soon as his back hit the sheets, shaking from head to toe.

“Water,” he told Trace.

“What?”

“I wuh-wuh-want him t-t-to drink something.”

Trace nodded then went downstairs. His footsteps pounded down the stairs, disappeared, then pounded back up. The bedroom door opened, allowing Trace in, and he crossed over to where Thrane still hadn't said a word. Together, they both coaxed their brother up until he was sitting up against the headboard.

He drank some water but didn't look at either one of them.

Trace took the glass, set it down on the nightstand, then motioned for him to follow. Taking one last look at his older brother, he made sure he was okay and then followed Trace out into the hallway. Trace closed the door behind them. Taivon waited.