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“Can…can you stay?” she breathes.“Please.” Reaching out for me, she runs her hand against my cheek, cradling it with her dainty fingers. There’s no way I can turn this beautiful woman down.
I smile softly. “Anything for you.” I mean this with my whole heart. Tara has me wrapped around her little finger, and I’d gladly burn down the whole world for her. I gently move from her touch, standing up so I can slip my shoes off. I leave the rest of my clothes on to make sure she’s comfortable enough. I don’t want her to think I’m going to try anything with her tonight. She doesn’t need that right now. What she needs is comfort.
She pushes further back into Reilly as I crawl back into the bed beside her, placing her IV tube over me, so I don’t crush it. There’s barely enough room for me, considering where they’re lying, so I press as close to her as I can without hurting her.
Tara’s hand runs along my bicep, up my neck, landing on my cheek. “I can feel the tension rolling off you…” She strokes her thumb against my stubble as I lean into her touch, “I asked Cohutta to come in here because I knew he would need me the most. I need both of you equally, but after seeing how terrible he looks, I knew I made a good choice. How bad was it?”
I place a soft kiss on her forehead and then proceed to tell her just how fucked up Reilly was for the past week. Her body stiffens as I tell her about his drunken escapades and how torn up he was.
“Fuck,” she whispers.
I know how she feels—guilty. She blames herself for Reilly, just like I blame myself for her pain. I ask her the question I’ve been dying to know the answer to. “Tara, do you blame me for what happened to you?”
Her eyes shoot up, a shocked expression glued on her face, and her pretty mouth pops open in an ‘o’. “What? N-No. Why would I?”
My stomach twists with regret. “I should’ve done more. I should’ve stopped it. If I would have told Nix, then this wouldn’t have happened.”
She slowly shakes her head. “Rush…this wasn’t your fault. I asked you not to tell and you kept your word. There’s nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing you could have done. It wasn’t your story to tell until you needed to, and I don’t blame you for that.”
I nod and shoot her a soft smile even though the guilt is still shredding my insides. She could tell me that every day for the rest of my life and I wouldn’t believe it. “I’m still sorry, though. When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. I’ll drop everything if you ever need me.”
She smirks and rasps, “Okay,” before laying her head back down.
Wrapping her arm around my side, she encourages me to move closer. “I don’t want to hurt you,” I protest. God, she looks like she’d break at the slightest touch.
“Please.” That one little word is all it takes for me to give in. Reilly must feel the movement on the bed. His eyes pop open, searching frantically for the source of the intrusion.His reaction is a little delayed. I’ll have to work on that with him. We all need to be sharp and alert.
“It’s just me, man.” His body visibly relaxes when he hears my voice.
“Are you okay, wild girl?” he whispers in the crook of her neck. She nods her head, snuggling deeper between both of us without saying a word.
Reilly meets my stare, his gray eyes filled with concern. We’re all terrified she’s not going to be okay, and none of us expect her to be, but she’ll never tell us if she isn't. She'll put on a brave face trying to act like she’s fine even when she’s shattering inside.
I reach out and grab onto his arm that’s wrapped around Tara, giving him a reassuring squeeze. He nods, but I know he’s not convinced. None of us will be until she’s doing better physically, and we can hunt Zayan down and murder his ass.
Tara’s breaths finally even out, as she falls back into her slumber. Knowing that she’s safe inside my arms, I let my body relax. My eyes slowly flutter closed, sleep taking over my exhausted brain.
The only thing on my mind is making sure we protect her with our dying breaths.
Sharp, stinging pain rips through my wrists as I yank against the rickety wooden chair. An old ass chair and frayed rope… this should be easy so why in the hell can’t I get free?
A piercing scream erupts from the other side of the dark musty room, echoing through my ears. I recognize that scream. My gaze snaps toward the sound and my heart jumps right out my chest while my stomach painfully twists. Tara. I need to get to her. She’s in danger.
No, no, no.
God, no.
“Marnix, help!” Tara begs as the faceless man brutally rapes her right in front of me. “Marnix!” Her screams cut right through the tension, filling me with panic. My heart squeezes inside my chest, ready to burst from the sight.
I jerk at the rope again, but it still doesn’t budge. It seems to be getting tighter and tighter the more I pull. “Tara! Get the fuck off her! I’ll fucking kill you if you keep touching her. Tara!” I yell, but the man doesn’t stop. It’s like he doesn’t hear me, or maybe he does and doesn’t care. He’s the one who tied me to this chair; he wants me to watch her suffer.
I feel fucking helpless. I can’t save her.
I can’t save the woman I love.
She’s being destroyed right in front of me, and it’s all my fault.
“You went and fell in love with poor West Side scum, didn’t you, son?” My attention snaps to my father standing to my right, dressed in his pristine black Neiman Marcus tux. His salt and pepper hair is slicked back and perfect as usual.
