Page 24 of Give Me Peace

“He’s MIA. Hasn’t been seen since last Friday,” Roan sneers.

“You,” Kash spits the second he clears the hallway. “Her ribs are bruised, you fucktard.” He looks downright scary, but Krew throws his arm out and keeps him from getting any closer. I’ll still lock my bedroom door tonight, just in case.

“Shit.” I cringe, the thought of causing her pain making me sick. I’ve hurt Saylor in ways I’ll never be able to make up for, but the man I am now wouldn’t harm a hair on her head. At least not intentionally. “I obviously didn’t know that.”

“She’s taking a bath right now.” Kash smiles. “I thought she was going to cry when I showed her the jets.” He shakes his head sadly. “The shit we take for granted is a luxury to her. That girl deserves the world, and I don’t know about you guys, but I plan to do everything I can to give it to her.” He’s so fucking gone already. It sends a haze of red over my vision, but I bite back the threat I wanna make.

“I think we can all agree that we should do everything we can to make Saylor as comfortable as possible,” Loch placates. “We’ll have to come clean about everything soon, but I also think we should establish some ground rules.” I cock my head to the side, curious to hear what he’s thinking.

“First of all, we’ve never had a woman here. Ever. So, I think it should go without saying that we need to avoid walking around half-naked. No more midnight snack runs to the kitchen in our underwear.” Loch looks pointedly at Kash, who meets his stare without an ounce of shame. “No blatantly adjusting our dicks or any other disgusting shit we like to do.”

“Farts are a normal, bodily function.” Kash sniffs haughtily, slipping back into the jokester role. I think we all roll our eyes.

“Saylor’s gone five years without any sort of affection.” Loch barrels on, ignoring Kash completely. “Touching is iffy for her. Though, she has allowed Ro and I a bit of contact.”

“Me, too,” Kash adds, making me jealous when I have no fucking right to be.

“He..,” Loch stops, needing to clear his throat. “Liam didn’t rape her, but she was definitely sexually assaulted. That’s all I’m going to say on the matter, and only because I think you should all be aware of what triggers she could have. A simple sex scene in a movie could send her to a dark place. Just be conscious of the things you say and do. Allow her to be the one to initiate contact, but at bare minimum give her the choice to decline.”

I feel relieved, but shocked. I expected worst case scenario. And now I feel guilty for being glad it only went so far. It was traumatizing no matter what and I wish more than anything he hadn’t so much as laid his eyes on her. I’ve worked assault cases before, but this is personal. It’s Saylor. I won’t be able to detach emotionally if I see her breaking. I wish I could fast forward and skip all the hard moments, but life doesn’t work that way.

“Let’s get some sleep.” Loch stands and nods toward our rooms. I head for my bags, feeling beat as fuck. It’s barely six o’clock but we all seem eager for an early night.

“One last thing,” Ro calls, rapping his knuckles on the wall. “Keep a light on out here. She hates the dark.”

Chapter Thirteen

Saylor

After Kash leaves, I lock the bedroom door behind him and walk back to the bathroom. The water is on and filling the tub, but I take a second to look beneath the sink to see if there’s any bubble bath by chance. My jaw drops at what I find. There are neat rows of varying products—lotions, body wash, sugar scrubs—everything you could possibly think of. My hand trembles as I reach out and pick one up, giving it a thorough examination. It’s like I’ve never seen soap before.

I open one of the drawers next, blinking at the items piled inside. There’s a brush, leave-in conditioner, hair-ties and clips. So many things I can’t seem to focus on just one. I close it and move to the next drawer, where a brand-new straightener lays in a slim box. I brush my finger across the packaging, completely lost for words. In the bottom drawer, I find something that makes tears fill my eyes. There’s an entire feminine aisle in there.

Everything a girl could possibly need—pads of every kind, tampons in all sizes and brands, Midol, even a pack of mini Hershey’s bars. Right at my fingertips. This is clearly Kash’s doing. He didn’t know what I’d like, so he bought it all. I wipe a tear away, aware that my bath water is dangerously close to running over. I close the drawer and turn it off, contemplating how I’m going to get myself undressed.

Bending at the waist, I use my bad wrist to avoid straining my ribs and grab the back of the top from over my shoulder. I wiggle it off, sighing in relief when I’m met with little to no pain. The scrub bottoms are much easier, and then I take my brace off and place it on the counter. I don’t want to, but I glance up and take in the state of my naked body. It’s like a car wreck you can’t look away from. You’re curious, so your eyes are drawn to the sight, but you’re also wary because there’s a good chance you’ll see something you don’t want to.

I didn’t even look this bad after being in an actual wreck. My ribcage is mottled with purple and black bruising. The rest of me isn’t much better. I’m too thin. My breasts have grown since I was fourteen, but I doubt they’re bigger than a B-cup. It’s hard not to wonder what I’d look like if I was still the Saylor before Liam Price got his hands on me. I take a deep breath and grab a scrub and body wash from beneath the sink.

Once my body is fully submerged in the gloriously hot water, I groan long and loud. After you’ve been deprived of something for so long, you kind of forget how great it is. It’s probably the brain’s way of maintaining sanity. We talk it down, that thing we loved so much, like it’s not a big deal we can’t have it anymore. Eventually, we crave it less because it’s no longer a part of our new normal. But as I sit here, covered to my chin in bubbles, I’m not sure how I ever made it five years with only a rusted sink.

I rub the body wash over my skin, pausing when I see the hair on my legs. That’s embarrassing. I’d started shaving the summer before eighth grade. I was a late bloomer, and my hair was fair so it never bothered me. But it wasn’t something I kept up with while being held against my will, fearing that every new day would be my last. Not to mention, the razor I’d been so graciously given was old and clearly used. I was scared I’d cut myself and catch something, so it was rarely put to use. Plus, I’d done everything I could to make myself as unappealing as possible. Little good it did.

I pull myself up, dripping water all over the marble tiles, and rummage through the bag of things Karley gave me. One of the guys must have placed it in here while I was at the beach. I find the razor and shaving cream and slip back in the tub. Ridding my body of hair seems like it should be the least of my worries right now, but I feel dirty. I think I’ll always feel dirty. There are parts of Liam I won’t be able to wash away. They won’t fade like the bruises will. Nothing short of a time machine can undo the damage in my head.

I lather my legs and run the fresh blade across my skin, hissing at the few knicks I get. I shave the rest of my body, drain the dirty water, and then refill it. I hope to high heaven I’m not exhausting their hot water. I turn the jets on the way Kash showed me and let my head drop back against the edge of the tub. With my eyes closed, my thoughts turn to the thing I’ve been avoiding for the past hour. Or person, I should say.

Havok McKade.

I don’t understand how or why he’s here, but it’s obvious he knows the men I’m now living with. That he’s a part of this group they’ve created. It makes no sense, and he’s the last person in the world I imagined I’d ever see again. To be honest, I assumed everything I left back in Pike’s Bay was now a part of the past. From the second we left town this morning, I knew I’d never go back there. There’s way too much bad associated with that place for me to ever consider it home again. I have no idea what will happen or where I’ll go from here, when it’s safe for me to leave, but it won’t be anywhere near Laiken County.

I feel tricked, though. They’re obviously aware that Havok and I know each other yet didn’t bother to mention he’d be here. If they know anything about our history, then I’m sure that was intentional. If I had known he would be involved, I never would have agreed to come here. Lochlan said I’d be safe with them, but I can honestly say that Havok has never once elicited that feeling from me. Even stranger is the way he behaved.

I’ve felt anger from him. Envy. Annoyance. Hatred. But never once has he looked at me the way he did earlier. He seemed relieved—almost happy. To see me, the girl he made a sport out of taunting and ridiculing. But that would be absurd. Havok made it known, in many ways, that he would never like me, though I’d never done a damn thing to warrant his disdain. I have no idea what I ever did to him, and I probably never will, because I plan to avoid him like the plague.

He hugged me.

I’m not sure if my yelp came from shock or the flare of pain it caused in my side. I hadn’t even recognized him at first. There was something niggling my brain, but it was my body’s response that was the most telling. My spine had tingled in warning, and when he casually insulted me in that way he’d perfected over the years, I knew exactly who I was looking at. But gone was the boy I remembered. Havok’s hair is silver now, a shock from the near black it naturally is, and his tanned skin is covered in colorful tattoos. He hasn’t grown much in height, still hovering around six feet, but he’s filled out everywhere else.