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I burst through the bathroom. “Hey! What the fuck! No clients back here!” Some girl’s standing in a towel in front of a mirror. I ignore her and keep going. I burst into the dorm with all its sad, stacked bunk beds and the piles of clothes and makeup and straighteners and curlers and whatever-the-fuck else. Girl shit in heaps all over.
“Siena,” I bark, looking around. “Siena, where are you?” I’m panicking. I’m not thinking straight. Mira’s saying something, yanking at me, but I don’t hear and I can barely feel it.
Then she’s there. Siena, standing up, unfolding herself from a bottom bunk in all her glory. She’s wearing ratty sweats and there’s a big white bandage taped to the side of her face, but it’s her, it’s my Siena, my princess.
My head spins as everything I’ve ever wanted clicks back into place.
It’s like coming inside from a long rain and sitting in front of a fire. She’s warmth and comfort. She’s red-hot desire and pure ecstasy. My Siena.
The room goes silent. Mira stops jabbering. Tears spring into Siena’s eyes but she doesn’t come to me. She doesn’t move. I want her to run into my arms. I want to feel her soft skin against mine so badly it makes my hands tremble.
“You’re here,” she says. Quiet and nervous. Almost afraid.
“Siena.” I go toward her but she flinches away. She looks down at the floor and holds her hands out like she wants me to stop.
“Don’t come closer. Please, Maxim. You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m taking you home.”
She looks at me in shock. Her mouth falls open and tears spill down her cheeks. How many times have I made her cry now? How many? I hate myself, despise myself for waiting. She didn’t need to go through this. I never should’ve lost my mind the way I did, but I thank God my mother pulled me out of that darkness.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’m serious. I have a plan. I’m going to make this work. If you want to come with me, I swear I’ll find a way to make this right.”
Her hand strays to the bandage on her cheek. “I don’t know. Maxim, she—she scarred me.” More tears fall faster. She’s sobbing now. My jaw clenches as anger wells up from some vast reservoir deep inside of me.
I close the distance between us. I touch the bandage and begin to peel it off. Siena flinches but I stop her from pulling away.
“Easy, asshole,” Mira says, slapping my back. She’s like a butterfly batting me with its worthless wings. I ignore her and take off the tape.
The bandage comes free and Siena sucks in a sharp breath as the dry blood pulls at the wound.
It’s bad. It’s very bad. Deep and long, from her earlobe to the corner of her mouth. It’s been cleaned, but it needs stitches to fully heal.
And she’s right. It’ll scar.
Agony fills me, white-hot and blinding. I release a growl like a beast, and it’s taking all my self-control not to stalk off and break Zita into pieces with my bare hands. I want to torture the worthless monster until she screams and begs for mercy. I want to twist her mind into bits as her entire world becomes pain.
I hate her with a vastness I didn’t think I had.
“I’m ruined,” Siena whispers. “She did it on purpose. She wanted me to suffer.”
“You’re not ruined.” I touch her other cheek gingerly. My fury bends for a moment. I need to help Siena. “I know a doctor. We’ll get you stitched and fixed.”
“But the scar. I’ll always be ugly.”
“Scars don’t matter. You’ll never be ugly to me, princess.” I kiss her softly, biting her lower lip. “I’m so sorry, Siena. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to stop it and I’m so sorry I didn’t come before now. I’ll never let them touch you again. I swear it, Siena.”
She sobs then and I hold her tight. I hug her close while more girls filter into the room. They stand and stare, and one of them looks shocked, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh, shit,” the girl says and turns to get away.
“Karmen!” Mira shouts. “Grab Ora. Don’t let her run!”
A scuffle. I can barely follow what happens as fists fly and hair gets yanked. Siena pulls back to watch as six of the girls pile onto one bigger, angry-looking whore. She thrashes and fights but they beat the hell out of her, kicking and punching and pulling her hair so hard it looks like it might tear from her scalp, until they finally subdue her and pin her down on a bed. Siena looks shocked as it happens.
“She’s not going anywhere,” one of the girls says, grinning huge with a bloody lip.
The one named Ora struggles and spits and curses, but she’s pinned down by four other bodies. Her nose is bleeding and her right eye is already puffy, and I think there’s a patch of hair missing from her temple.
