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She hasn’t exactly admitted that’s what happened, but it’s not a difficult situation to piece together. It helps that Luca’s been on board with my assistance, secretly passing me details while Caroline sits at home on bedrest, recuperating from her concussion. Glad to see he didn’t take that beating from a few weeks ago to heart.
A week’s passed since that night at the club, when I killed Todd Davis, and she puked in my room. We’ve avoided one another ever since.
Each night I come home, it takes everything in me not to slide into her bed and wrap her in my arms, the only place I feel I can adequately keep her safe, but I know she’s not ready for that.
She’s also a horrible patient; when I’m not hanging out in Crimson’s basement or tracking shipments so Marco can guard them better, I sit in my office and watch her on surveillance. She spends most of her time baking; her favorite thing to bake seems to be scones—blueberry and orange—and she always makes more than she can eat. Not that it stops her from trying. I’ve watched her eat a dozen pastries in the last two days.
Though she’s putting her culinary arts degree to use at the house, I can tell she’s antsy, occasionally watching the news and constantly making phone calls to Olivia and Juliet. Anything she can use to distract herself from the control that slips further from her grasp every single day.
Because I’ve taken over, aiming to eliminate these fuckers before she has a chance to get hurt. Hopefully, one day, she’ll thank me.
“McCarty, all you have to do is tell us how well you know Caroline,” I grunt, eyeing the slimy fucker.
“Why? So you two can get off to the image of me forcing my cock inside her?” Sheldon smirks at the same time that my eyes narrow, making my blood boil. I tuck my hands behind my back, exercising restraint. For now.
Kal doesn’t, though. His nostrils flare, pulling the pliers apart to wedge Sheldon’s lip between the instrument head. He pulls and twists the pink flesh, smiling as the congressman begins writhing, trying to break his restraints.
“Fuck, okay, okay. Jesus. I’m fucking talking, aren’t I?”
“Enough cutesy bullshit. You know what we’re asking for here,” Kal snaps.
I cross my arms over my chest. “Are you saying you had sex with her?”
“If that’s what you want to call it, man.”
I glance at Kal, who raises his eyebrows and yanks on Sheldon’s hair. He squeaks, but it doesn’t wipe the smug look off his dumb fucking face. “What wouldyoucall it?”
“Getting what I paid for. Dominic promised we could all take turns on the broad if we forgave his debts. I was first in line; she went with me, thinking I’d be gentle.”
“You weren’t?” My heart pounds in my ears.
He scoffs. “Gentle or not, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want me, didn’t want any of us. She was seventeen, and my particular brand of sexual fetishes is kind of deviant.”
“You had sex with a child,” Kal deadpans.
An eyebrow raises, surprise flooding his features. “Now wait a damn minute. She was above the age of—”
“If you say consent, I swear to God, I’ll blow your brains out right now.” I fold my arms over my chest, disgust crawling across my skin. “You, a man who at the time was at least forty, had sex with aminor.A child. Consent doesn’t fucking mean anything when someone can’t fully understand what—or who—they’re consenting to. She didn’t have a fucking choice.”
“She chose me—”
“The lesser of many evils.” The words explode on my tongue, outrage shooting through me like white-hot lightning. “You’re a pedophile. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
My heart beats rapidly, a pang ripping through the organ as I consider Caroline’s inherent need to fight—to deny her feelings, her sadness, and anger; how she clams up at the mention of her past, how she doesn’t seem to have spoken about it with anyone.
I fuckinghatethat I’m finding out about it all like this, but I can’t fault her for how she copes.
We all do what we can to survive. Who we are and how we get through this life are not one and the same.
Trying to reconcile the girl with so much hate and pain etched into her very being with the warm, feisty, caring woman I call my wife is difficult; I can’t imagine how long it took to get there. The need to somehow correct this nightmare for her resurges in me.
Clenching my jaw, I stare at the blood on the floor beneath my shoes, trying to find a focal point to center my rage on. Sinister darkness passes through me, lighting my nerve-endings on fire, and I exhale slowly, snapping my head back up.
My head is foggy as I move, my brain on autopilot while my senses take over; red splashes across my vision, painting my insides with fury. Kal steps aside, holding the pliers in his palm, and I snatch them away, positioning myself in front of Sheldon, legs spread, feet planted on either side of his chair.
One hand seizes his throat, and I feel his windpipe shift under my hold, trying to adjust to the pressure. His breathing scatters, eyes bulging like Todd’s the other night, and excitement sings in my veins at the sight.
I smell the exact moment his smugness turns to unadulterated fear, glancing down as his cock leaks, piss dripping down the chair.
