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I pull my shirt over my head and turn slowly. His eyes flick from the carvings, up to my face. I see it, the pity. The sorrow. The fucking way I'm no longer his executioner, but the eight-year-old kid he used to soothe back to sleep.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine." I keep saying the words, but I don't know if they're for him or for me. My hand grips my arm, nails dragging against the deep scratches. Over and over. The same two words falling from my lips. I'm fine.

He moves without another word, grabbing my wrists and prying my arms apart. I try to fight him off, but I'm too tired. Too exhausted, too fucking head fucked. He pulls me into him, gripping me tightly into a bear hug. Holding me tighter than ever before, like he's scared I'm going to fall through a crack in the floor.

"It's okay to not be fine, Jax. It's okay. You don't always need to be strong. I should have taught you that, that it doesn't make you weak to break. I should have done more. I should have got you away when I had the chance." His voice shakes, and for the first time in fourteen years, I hear the man who is my dad, all but in name—break.

"I fucked up, Adrian. I fucked up so bad, and I've put everyone I love at risk." I finally lose it, every inch of my body rattling with sobs I can no longer hold back. Fourteen years' worth of grief, of hatred, of fucking fear all piles together in this one moment, and I can't swallow it down anymore.

"We're alive, Jax. We're alive—no one's at risk." He keeps holding me, but he doesn't know how bad I've messed up. How the one woman in this entire world I should have stayed away from has ignited a fucking spark in my heart and bought it back to life. How I'm ready to go for war, to let my body be used and fucking mutilated in order to keep her safe. He doesn't know.

But he will. Because I can't do this alone. Not anymore.

"I broke the rules, Adrian. I got attached, I let her in." The words almost felt foreign. "I've been sneaking around with Amora, I've been going to her chambers, and fuck, I don't know how it happened, but she crawled inside me, Adrian. She snuck her way into my cold, dead heart, and I couldn't keep away. I tried. I tried so fucking hard, but she ignited something inside me that I thought was long dead, and now I've fucked everything up."

Adrian takes a deep breath. "Oh boy. You sure have a talent of falling in love with the wrong women." He pulls me to my feet, hands cupping my face as his thumbs wipe away the tears from my cheek.

"Yeah, you see why I'm so fucked now." I pull away, turning to grab my t-shirt, needing to hide the fucking marks on my chest.

"You, my boy, need a drink." He sighs. I know he's trying to fill the silence, that he doesn't know how to give me an answer, because he knows just as much as I do that I've fucked up.

"Yeah, I think you're right." I drag a hand through my hair. "Go on without me, I'll be down in a minute."

"If you're sure?" he asks, brow raised.

"I'm good, I swear. Just…" I pause, sucking in a breath. "Don't tell Jarrod, okay? You know how dramatic he is." I'm already turning my back on him to go for another smoke, needing the burn against my lungs more than ever.

"Jax," he calls out. "I hope you know, whatever you decide to do, you'll never be alone. That whilst I know you'll do what it takes to protect her, I'll do what it takes to protect you."

I light another cigarette and take a drag, watching the smoke coil together in the air. Regret settles thick in my chest at how much I revealed about Amora. Not because I don't trust him, but because it's the first time I've ever admitted it. Maybe I meant it or maybe it was just a ruse to get him out of the room and to avoid telling him about the hours Melina spent forcing my body to comply with her demands with a fucking knife to my throat. Maybe it's better this way, because at least I can pretend it never happened, and saying it out loud makes it real. I press my palm flat against my shirt, feeling the raised skin beneath the fabric, the shape of her initials still stinging.

I should have killed her.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Amora

The mattress smashes against the lid of the coffin in a rhythm I know all too well.

Her screams replace the pain in my face. "Please no, please don't. I can't take anymore…" Rosa's voice fills the air. Her voice so small, so broken. I can't take it anymore. The rhythm doesn't stop. If anything, it gets worse.

His grunts follow, the sound of flesh slapping together. Bile keeps trying to force its way through my throat, but there's nowhere for it to go, so I swallow it down. There's no closing my eyes to escape this. There's no memory that can take away the pain or the sounds of what's happening above me. Because every time I see her or the memories I'd used to hold on to when it was me screaming and begging are broken once I hear her voice in real time—forcing me back into this moment. Into this box.

A sob tears through her as she calls out, "Please, I can't take it. Please just kill me," causing what's left of my heart to shatter into pieces. "Please, oh God, please help me."

My hands ball into fists as I lunge my knee into the wooden lid. Over and over, praying the sound will drown out the noise or at least piss him off enough to stop.

"Take me. Please, take me. Leave her alone. Don't do this, I'm begging you. Please. Just take me!" I scream the words so loud my throat grows hoarse. "Just take me!"

I can hear his laughter. The way he's talking her through the forced orgasm, just like he had me.

"That's it, baby, your cunt feels so good around my cock." His words force the sick to come, but I can't twist to the side so it spills from my lips, dripping down my cheeks as I splutter through the vomit. The mattress finally stills, a silence cascading around the room. But inside the box, all I can hear are my own raspy breaths.

I try to listen, the pulse in my face beating so fucking loud as pain splinters through every inch of my body, through the pounding in my head from his repeated blows. I try. I try so hard to hear what's happening above, but it's all hushed whispers. I feel the weight on the lid as the mattress dips, the springs creaking as a body moves. Footsteps cross the room, thick and heavy. Exactly his. The slam of a door comes next. I hold my breath, waiting for a sign she's still alive. Talk to me, Rosa. Talk to me and tell me you're alive. Tell me you're still breathing.

"Amora…" Her voice shakes as she calls out, her voice like a breath of fresh air that I so desperately needed. Relief floods through me, taking over every inch of pain.

"Oh, Rosa. I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry I left you. I'm so fucking sorry I didn't come to save you." Every apology that's been running through my head for the weeks we've been separated spills out, every inch of my body trembling as the sobs flood through me. My palm extends, pressing against the wood. "I'm so fucking sorry for everything."