Chapter 103: Forgiveness is Power

Chapter 103: Forgiveness is Power
Several Weeks Later
Sophie

I was sitting in my room, on my favorite seat by the window, sketchbook in hand and charcoal pencils scattered on the windowsill. Both puppies were lying down on the cushion next to me. The sweet symphony of musical repertoire was blasting from my earbuds. My latest creation was a hyper-realistic lion with a bloody rose in its maw. Even though all four of us ended up in Matlock’s room almost every night, we kept our own spaces.

A faint brush on my shoulder had me practically jumping out of my skin. “AH!” I screamed when I was forced out of my bubble of solitude. I look up to see Asher with an amused smile while I try to catch my breath. He reaches out and plucks one of the ear pods.

“It’s dinner time, little dove,” Asher stated calmly.

“Ten more minutes? Please?” I asked, giving the best puppy dog impression. Asher chuckled, brushed his thumb across my cheek, and wiped the smudges away.

“No. You know how we all are about your meals. You can pick it back up after school tomorrow,” Asher said authoritatively. I glared at him, trying to burn a hole through his head, but I failed. I sighed in resignation and began to put away my supplies, putting everything neatly on the desk. I washed up quickly as Asher laid out my clothes for dinner.

Fifteen minutes later, I walked out the bedroom door with my hand firmly grasped in Asher’s as he led me through the house to the family dining room.

My chair was pulled close to Matlock’s so our knees touched under the table. Since that first night, it’s become a tradition of sorts.

Dinner was served, and, like every other night in the dining room, my plate was placed in front of Matlock, who cut up my food before putting it in front of me. Before handing me the fork, he fed me the first bite, and dinner commenced. The conversation flowed nicely. We had gotten into a nice, easy routine since the shooting.

I was going to therapy three times a week, and at least one of the guys joined in, usually on the Friday sessions, so they could help me cope. I strangely didn’t feel much after that last incident; I mean, I had been through a lot worse in this year alone.

A throat clearing after dessert brought my attention to Matlock.

“Baby girl, we wanted to talk to you… about your brothers,” he stated cautiously.

“They are not my real brothers,” I growled through my teeth.

“Sophie, breathe, baby,” Asher reminded me, raising his eyebrow. I followed his advice and took a few deep, cleansing breaths.

“Baby girl, this is partly the reason we wanted to talk to you,” Matlock continued, taking my shakey hand in his lovingly. “You still have a lot of aggression towards them, and after speaking to Dr. Mishoe, he also agrees that you need an outlet to let it all go finally…” He paused, looking at my stoic face. Inside, I was a raging bull wanting to pounce but attempting to contain it. He squeezed my hand in support.

“As you know, they are working for us now. They have been training hard, and as we agreed, they have given you space and are repenting for their sins. But their lives have only been spared for you. Deep down, you still love them as your brothers, and that’s okay. You can’t erase eighteen years of memories. We want you to let out the demon you’ve been holding for so long. They are being collected and taken to the vault. You will be allowed to do anything you want,” Matlock said with a small smile.

“I don’t want to see them,” I said quietly, lowering my head in shame.

“Baby girl,” Matlock said sweetly, using his finger to lift my face and turn it to look at him. “Never lower your head. You are the Queen of this family and always keep your head high, right? Now, it’s not an option. It’s an order. You will face them and finally let it all go—no more of this passive-aggressive shit and projection. Your backside needs a rest, and we want our sweet Sophie. We will be with you every step of the way.” His reassurance made my heart flutter.

I couldn’t hold back the silent tears trailing my face before slowly nodding. Matlock gave me a small smile before he leaned over and kissed my forehead. He then wiped my tears away.

“Well, let’s get going,” Zion chirped up happily after a moment of silence, scooting back in his chair and rising.

“Wait, what?” I croaked out.

“You’re doing this tonight, sweetheart. If we let you wait, you’ll spiral again, knowing you will try to run or lock yourself in your room.”

“I would not!” I say defensively. “It’s not like you don’t have all the master keys to my room,” I shoot back.

The guys all stood, chuckling, and Matlock offered his hand to me. I was hesitant to take it. I wasn’t ready to see them again, but the stoic expressions on all three of their faces told me I would not get out of this one unless…

“Don’t even think about it, Sophie,” Asher exclaimed, and I pouted. The man knew me too well.

“Do what?” Zion asked; Matlock chuckled.

“She was contemplating about stripping and showing us her boobs in hopes of delaying the inevitable,” Asher responded, giving me that ‘not going to work on us, doll face’ look. Zion’s expression instantly morphed into the same expression. I sighed in resignation again and took Matlock’s hand. He pulled me close to his chest and kissed my forehead before pulling me out of the dinner hall, through the house, and outside to the waiting caravan of military-grade SUVs.

I sat beside Zion, who sweetly held my hand, rubbing comforting circles on my flesh with his thumb. I started nervously bouncing my knee as the dark country road whizzed by. Zion quickly distracted me by pulling my gaze to him and claiming my lips. They were hot and sultry. I soon left my fear while I focused on this gorgeous Adonis, who was in a lip-lock battle with me. His hands snaked around my head, keeping me close. Our exchange of saliva was enough to fill a bathtub.

I was thoroughly out of breath when he finally released me, and we were in the underground parking lot of their main office building. I have visited the vault three times for firearm practice with the twins.
I was flanked by the twins, with Matlock leading the way. All twenty elite guards surrounded us with better security than the President of the United States. Matlock led us through the endless maze before stopping before a steel vault-like door.

One of the guards opens it quickly, and the four of us and twelve of the guards step inside.

Inside, it was like a hospital surgery room. The walls were stark white and felt sterile. My brothers were sitting in the middle on three wooden chairs, looking miserable. Zach, Kevin, and Caleb. I once looked up to them like they were the greatest, even better than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. They looked ten years older, their features sunken, dark circles under their eyes, and frailty to their once imposing auras. They looked like zombies, shells of their former selves. Caleb was sporting a day-old black eye and a busted lip, and Kevin now had a long pink scar on his right cheek down his mandible bone parallel to his nose. Zach just looked sickly pale.

When we entered the room, they all looked up; their eyes became saucers, and I think I saw their eyes shimmer with hope in the harsh lighting. I squeezed Zion’s hand a little tighter and looked up at him. I pleaded with my eyes for us to leave, but his only response was to give me a weak smile and kiss my cheek.

The guards took their protective positions around the room. I watched Matlock casually take off his suit jacket and roll up his sleeves. He sat on a throne-like chair that was off to the side. He didn’t need to speak. He just lifted his hand towards me. His unspoken command was clear as day. With a little nudge from the twins, I went over to Matlock, who pulled me into his lap as soon as our fingertips were available.

The twins soon found their seats, and Matlock cleared his throat. “Gentlemen. You were brought here tonight for one reason only. Sophie. She needs closure, and you will do whatever she says, accept any punishment she deems necessary with grace, and listen to her should she wish to say anything to you. If she allows you to survive tonight, you will be sent to our European headquarters, where you will continue your spy work, and your relationship with her will be at her discretion. If she decides you die, well, we will make sure you get a nice funeral.” My brothers all swallowed and looked towards me.
I began to breathe in and out, just as the doctor had shown me. Everyone in the room was silent, waiting for me to speak. It took me several minutes to calm my racing heart. I averted my eyes everywhere except to my brothers. The more I thought about them, the angrier I got.

When I finally felt my resolve, I spoke up. “Strip them from the waist up and string them up,” I ordered. With a nod from Matlock, the guards sprang into action. My so-called brothers said nothing. They each kept their heads down, resigned to their fate.

“Thirty lashes each with a whip, then cut them down,” I ordered. Matlock ordered the guards to use the spiked whip, and the guys visibly trembled but kept quiet. Zach held my gaze as he was being hung up.

Over the next half an hour, I watched my brother's backs being helplessly shredded. All three remained as silent and still as possible, only grunting a few times. Once they were done, the boys were a pile of mushy, bloody mess. They collapsed on the floor, and for the first time in years, I saw tears in their eyes, but they wouldn’t let them shed. And that is when I lost it.

The dam finally broke. My heart finally broke. The wall that I had built up for myself finally broke. The hatred I had for my brothers for what they did to me washed off of me and left a big gaping hole. I don’t know how long I sat in Matlock’s lap, just letting it all out. The room was still silent; only my wailing echoed throughout the room. I couldn’t even look at my brothers.

Zach, although in apparent agony, had pulled himself on his hands over to where I was sitting. A trail of blood followed.

“Princess,” Zach rasped quietly as he slowly sat up at my feet. “Squish,” he said softly, and I finally looked up and saw him so close. He used my childhood nickname, and I couldn’t help but smile through my tears.

“I’m so sorry. I can never ask you to forgive us for what we did to you, Squish. I am so sorry,” he bowed his head and began to sob. His resolve was also breaking.

Before I knew what I was doing, I flung myself into his body and hugged his neck. He wrapped his arms around me, and we sobbed together.

“I forgive you… brother,” I whispered, emphasizing the term brother.