AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fuck. I shouldn't say that. It's not her fault and it doesn't make her skanky just for hooking up with him. He's a hot, successful guy that any woman would be happy to have between her thighs. And he's notmineso technically it's not like he did anything wrong anyway. The guy can barely stand me so of course he would hook up with other women. Stone can too for that matter.
Eww no. The thought sends a pang through my chest and makes me want to both cry and cut a bitch at the same time. Why? Shit, why am I even thinking about this right now? There are bigger concerns in my life than the ever-persistent drama of juggling four crushes on four different men. Except that it's not just crushes, is it? Not anymore. Especially not with Gage and Maddox, but the other two as well. A lot of times, it feels like they are already mine. Even when I hate Nyx, I still want the big ogre.
The thought brings me back to the present and I reluctantly peel my eyes open and look back at the men who are all sitting in silence and staring at me. Fuck. How long was I in my head for?
"What were you saying?" I mumble. Stones smiles softly like he understands that I'm overwhelmed and hell, he probably does. Sometimes, I think he knows me better than I know myself. Maybe that's why I feel such an intense pull toward him?
"You were saying that the other day, you used a similar move on Hunter and that it just felt natural?"
Nodding, my brain goes back to the other day in Hunt's apartment when I tossed him on his ass. "Yeah, but that was something I had practiced with Nyxon already. This was like that but different. The techniques and moves I used were new to me, or I would have thought they were because I don't remember learning them, but they just kind of like, played out in my head like any other memory." Shrugging, I tug on the edge of my shirt, giving myself something to distract me from their penetrating stares.
"Memory, huh?" Gage rumbles. My brows pinch together. Memory? Was it one? Swallowing against the sudden ball of emotion in my throat, my eyes widen as I look at Stone.
"Do you think?" I whisper. "Do you think it was a memory or something?"
Stone considers my question for a moment before returning my shrug. Reaching out, he pulls my hands off of my lap and grasps both of them in his larger hands. My body heats at the contact, reminding me of the other day in his playroom and how electric his skin on mine felt.Still feels. Every single time."It could have been. Have you had any other memories over the years? Flashbacks? Intuitive feelings or anything that may seem familiar?"
Thinking that over, I'm quickly saddened by the answer sitting readily on my tongue.No.Never.I've never remembered a single thing from before the accident. Even when I first woke up, there were never any moments of clarity or flashbacks. No matter how hard I've tried to remember or make myself bring that part of my life to the forefront of my brain. It's just a blank void. The only thing that has been around since then is my ever-persistent and rarely changing nightmares. They are always the same for the most part, with a few changes, where things morph and twist, especially when something big and traumatic happens in my life.
It's always the flames, the deafening sound, pain, the man with the claws, the screaming, and the blood.Always. But when something happens, like when Drew attacked me, I get visceral flashbacks from a time in my life that I have stuffed down so fucking deep that I can almost pretend it's not real, except, it is. It's very real. And those pieces that come to me, those are memories. Memories that are dark enough to kill a person's soul. Memories of foster parents and the traumatic abuse that Hunter, Cora and I suffered at their hands. Those are the memories that I would give anything to rid myself of. The rest? I'd do anything togainthem back.
As far as things that feel familiar or tug on my conscious? I'm not sure about that. Over the years, there have been moments when something or someone will come across my path and I will have an intense sensation of deja vu. It's happened more frequently in the last month but nothing is ever prominent enough for me to actually consider that it could mean something important. It's always just a feeling.
Looking into Stone's eyes, I have that feeling once again. Like my soul knows his. I've felt it from the very first time I met him.Hefeels familiar and when I'm with him, I feel a serenity wash over me. It's like a part of me recognizes him on a deeper level that my brain hasn't yet caught up. That's not possible though. Right? Surely if we knew each other before this, he or one of the guys would have said something. They wouldn't want to leave me in the dark like that, withholding such a vital part of my life from me.
No, they wouldn't. I may not know them all extremely well but I do believe that they wouldn't keep anything crazy like that from me when they know how badly I want to remember my childhood. So considering that the only times I have felt a strong tug of familiarity are with him, and we've only just met, that means that my gut can't be trusted on the matter.
"No," I sigh, shaking my head, "nothing."
A look of sadness washes over Stone's face and he swallows deeply before regaining his previous stoicism. Clearing his throat, he gives my hands a squeeze before setting them back on my lap. Standing, he moves to settle onto the opposite end of the sectional. "Well, it's very possible that it was a memory or that your subconscious was triggered by the events or your heightened emotions. I'm not a professional in that regard but I have done a fair amount of research on memory loss and though it's unlikely that things will return to you after so many years, it is not impossible."
Why has he done so much research? I know he's brilliant but it's kind of an odd topic to study especially when you're a self-proclaimed tech guru. The rest of his words catch up to me and I find myself once again choking on the heavy emotions they cause. None of that is new information. Doctors have said the same since I was a kid. The longer the memories are gone, the less likely they are to return. Over the years, I've done a good job of forgetting that I even existed before waking up in that hospital. But when my mind dwells on my time with my foster parents, the physical, mental, and sexual abuse I suffered, and everything I went through with Drew, I start to question if this is all my life is meant to be. Trauma after trauma.
Was there or will there ever be a time when I can just be fully happy and cared for?Loved?
Now. That time is now.
Looking around at the group of men surrounding me, the realization hits me like a freight train. I have been cared for and looked after. These men, hardened criminals, killers with fucked up pasts; have given me more affection and safety since I met them than anyone else ever has. My adoptive parents are sweet, wonderful people but we've never formed a bond like I have with these guys.These men mean something to me and me to them. I'm happy here. Likereallyfucking happy. Even with everything that's going on in my life, in their lives, I'm still happy.
If my life stayed this way, if things continued on like this, I might just be okay enough to forget about my childhood. I might be able to stop dreaming and hoping that the parents I lost are going to come back to me. Praying that my real father is out there and that he's been trying to get to me, to find his little girl and show her how arealfather treats his child. I have these daydreams that my parents are locked away somewhere and that they never wanted to give me up. That they've tried and fought for me since they lost me, that they arecoming.
But maybe, maybe now that I've finally found people who want me as much as I want them, who care for me, protect me, maybe even love me, then I can finally give up that dream. Maybe I can have a new dream now.
"So," Maddox shifts in his seat, suddenly looking uncomfortable as fuck. Turning his body to face me, he continues, speaking slowly and softly, as though he's trying not to frighten me. "After you woke up in the hospital, what happened? You've told us a little about your past but not much."
My heart starts to beat so loudly in my chest that my ears begin towoosh. Why are they asking me about this right now? Why does it even matter? My eyes dart between the guys, finding soft, curious looks on all of their faces, including Nyxon's. The gentleness in his expression pisses me off. I despise how flippant he is with his emotions where I'm concerned. He has no problem spitting cruel and painful words in my direction but when he wants something, he becomes the old Nyx, the one I met that day on the bridge.
Pulling my gaze from him, I settle back on Maddox, finding nothing but compassion and adoration staring back at me. Maybe they just want to know because they do care about me because I am a fixture in their life, their girlfriend, a person they want to get to know. Maybe these men are the ones I can finally trust with my secret, my deep dark past. I've never told anyone about what happened to me after I left that hospital. No one truly knows what went on in that household except for those of us that were there and one of us isn't even alive anymore.
No, she's not because that house destroyed her.
I want to tell them. I want to unburden my soul and hand the knowledge of my past over to someone else. Maybe if I do that then I'll finally be able to move on from it all. Maybe the nightmares might even stop.
"Baby girl?" Maddox murmurs, his brows furrowed. "You okay?"
His soothing voice is so full of kindness and it touches the part of me that has slowly been healing since they've entered my life. I don't want to do anything to lose that. I cant. If they know how dirty and tainted I actually am, would they still look at me the same?
Would they still want to have sex with me if they knew? Would they still want to be in a relationship with me when they find out I lost my virginity at the age of ten? That by the time I was twelve, I'd been touched, used, and abused in more ways than any person has the right to be? That my foster father couldn't control his needs and urges around me and that I stole him from his wife. That his wife abused and punished me for taking her husband. Or that my best friend, my rock, my soulmate was forced to rape me again and again and again. Would they still think I'm such a strong person when they find out that I was such a coward that I never reported the abuse until it was too late?
