“When’d it start?” he asked.
“Pardon?”
“Got scar tissue he didn’t get to opening up this go, Frannie, so don’t think you can pull one over on me. This is not your first time. How old were you when it started?”
“I don’t understand the import of that information,” I declared haughtily.
“Just tell me how old,” he pushed.
“If it’s that interesting to you, five.”
He rose.
Immediately.
Coming straight out of his crouch in a powerful surge, he stood towering beside me on the bed.
And now, at the expression on his face, I fought cowering before him.
“Five?” he whispered.
I fought the pain as I pushed up on my forearms, beginning, “Noc—”
“Five?” he hissed.
I stared up at him, unable to speak in the face of his fury.
Fury on my behalf.
Something that had never happened, not from Kristian, not from Antoine.
Not from anyone.
“You were coerced, Franka, whether you know that shit or not,” he bit off, and before I could utter a noise, even if I had no intention of doing so, a knock came at the door and Noc barked, “Come in!”
He then prowled to the door as a maid came through with towels.
He did this continuing to bark, just not as loudly, and dispensed with the “pleases” and ludicrous “that’d be awesomes” and behaved like the man he would be if he was of this world.
In other words, he issued commands.
“Change the towel with a clean, cool one on her back. Give her the goddamned sleeping drink so she can get some relief from the pain. And get the fucking doctor in here.” He was at the door the maid had scurried through and he turned to me. “You move from that bed, baby, I’m gonna be fuckin’ pissed. Let her take care of you, drink the goddamned drink, get some rest. I’ll be back.”
I had no earthly clue what “fuckin’ pissed” meant.
I still nodded.
Noc watched me do it.
Then he swept out the door.
Chapter Four
How It Was Going to Be
Noc
It took three of Frey’s guys to pull Noc off the man.
Even accomplishing this, he still struggled against their hold, knowing every blow he’d dealt didn’t make him feel better, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get gratification each time his fist landed in the asshole’s flesh.
“I understand your anger, Noc, but this is not helping,” Frey said from close.
“It defies belief you’d allow that…that…man to lay his hands on me.”
At Franka’s father’s words, Noc went still.
His entire body.
But not his mouth.
“It defies belief you took that fuckin’ whip to your daughter since she was fuckin’ five without anyone stopping you,” he spat, feeling no joy as he watched Franka’s father swipe blood from his mouth seeing as Noc’s repeated blows to his face where the whip had caught earlier tore that wound long and wide.
He felt no joy mostly because he also felt the job was not even close to done.
It took a while for the vibe in the room to hit him, but when it did he jerked away from Frey’s boys and turned his attention to the man himself.
Frey’s face was carved from stone, his eyes directed at his uncle, and they were blazing with hellfire.
“Since she was five?” he whispered, his tone heavy with disbelief and disgust, not to mention rage.
Noc shifted his attention back to the older man when he replied, “It’s none of your concern, nephew, what I do with my children.”
“It’s bloody law in Lunwyn that corporal punishment of minors does not go beyond a simple spanking or a paddle,” Frey shot back.
“She’s now an adult,” the man retorted.
“Which does not negate the crime of child cruelty, but adds the crime of assault,” Frey declared.
“I’m a member of a House, your House, may I remind you,” Franka’s father returned.
“You’re a monster,” Noc clipped.
The man turned his gaze to Noc. “And you’re a peasant who I’ve not given leave to speak to me.”
Noc opened his mouth but Frey got there before him.
“Are you unfamiliar with the Prince of Hawkvale?” he asked.
“I know of these secrets,” the asshole fired back, a sneer twisting his lips, “and this is not the heir to the throne of Hawkvale.” He indicated Noc with his arm. “This man is nothing.”
“This man saved you from slavery at the hands of Minerva and her minions,” Frey retorted. “This man has the ear of the Queen. The Princess. And The Drakkar. This man is twin to the heir of Hawkvale. This man is far from nothing.”
“You can pretty him up as much as you like, nephew, but his manner, his speech. He may look like a prince of our world, but he’s far from that. He’s simply common,” Franka’s father returned.
“Cease speaking,” Frey ordered.
“You are who you are, Frey, but I’m your uncle, your elder, and you never have leave to speak to me in that manner,” Franka’s father retorted.
“Cease…” Frey leaned forward and thundered, “speaking.”
“I—”
That was all the asshole got out before Frey was across the room with his hand wrapped around the guy’s throat, his feet lifted two feet from the ground, and he was slammed into a shelving unit so hard, all the bottles swayed and four crashed to the ground.