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Rhys smacks him upside the head in a joking manner before announcing he needs a shower and heading out to do that. Riggs kisses the top of my head then follows Rhys out of the room, their heads together as they talk about my stalker and what we’re going to do.
Goddamn it, stalker is just what I fucking needed to add to my list of shit to deal with. The insurance company is handling most of the bar stuff, thankfully I had umbrella coverage on it so there hasn't been much fight. I'll have to call my former employee's and see what I can do to make this easier on them. The thing is, I don't have any drive to go back there. I may decide to open a new bar, but if I do it won't be there. Without the connection to Melinda, it's just a random city with nothing left for me. Except my clothes and material objects. I'll definitely need to go grab those soon.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, making me groan at having to put on my people voice. Adam is sitting on the counter, playing a game or something on his own phone. He looks up as I pull my phone out, my frown at the private ID has him coming to look himself.
Swiping, I answer the call cautiously, putting it on speaker phone for the both of us. After the conversation we just had about stalkers, I’m not feeling too great about concealed phone numbers.
"Hello?"
Heavy breathing comes over the end of the line, the flick of a lighter can be heard just before a sharp intake. "You like my gift?" A distorted voice comes over the line, the deep male tone of it making the hairs stand on end.
"Gift?" I ask innocently as Adam scowls down at my phone.
"Gifts, plural, I guess I should say." He laughs, the mechanical sound like nails on a chalkboard. "But really I wanted to know how you liked my latest gifts. You know, the bar and your apartment? You have the most beautiful lavender body wash. I haven’t cum that hard in a long time like I did when I was jacking off with it."
Turning to look at Adam in shock, I feel instantly violated that this man was in my personal stuff. What the fuck did this guy do to my apartment? What the fuck does he want with me? Adam is shaking beside me,
"Who are you?" The demanding question falls from my lips as the anger burns hotter than ever inside of me. "What the fuck do you want from me?"
"I'm your biggest fan," he says, laughing again at the rise he's getting out of me. "And I just want you. I want you submissive to me, your arms and legs tied to my bed as I make you scream in pure agony. Soon. Goodbye, Alayna."
The blood drains from my face, a million memories flashing through my mind at the times I've been strung up and hurt. The vicious beatings, the purposeful torture, the rape that took so much more than my innocence. It flows through my mind, each flash of memory worse than before. I promised myself that no one else would ever hurt or violate me again, but here we are. A different time, another person who thinks they get to own me.
Chapter Nineteen
Adam
The rage running through me is as deep as the ocean and stone fucking cold. This isn’t the kind of anger where I’ll explode and feel better, this is the type of anger that freezes everything, never thawing or going away until I get my hands around his fucking neck. He was in her apartment, touching her stuff, violating her space, and then called to gloat. Add in arson over one of the few things she had left in her life and he’s officially a dead fucker.
Alayna is pale beside me, her breathing becoming more and more erratic. Shit, she might be headed into shock or a panic attack again. Rhys or Riggs should be out here because I fucking suck with crying women. Last night was a desperate time and I had a mission and a goal, to save her from herself. Right now, I just have an upset woman and no threat to get rid of.
“Lay,” I whisper, moving to sit on the stool beside her. “Talk to me. I need you to tell me what you need. When Rhys and Riggs get back out here we’ll make a plan to keep you safe. Please, don’t cry. I’m useless with crying.”
Lay chokes on a cry, her shoulders slumping forward like the weight of the world is sitting on them. She’s fighting some demons that I can’t see, her eyes squeezed tightly as if she can force them to leave her alone. It’s then that I realize she isn’t just fighting away panic, but flashbacks that the call must have triggered. Lay isn’t here with me, she’s off fighting the people from her past.
Flashbacks are something I’m intimately familiar with, both from my traumatic upbringing and the shit I saw overseas. Pulling out my phone, I quickly send off a text letting the others know what’s going on. After that, I focus on Alayna, keeping my voice low and calm and avoiding any and all physical contact. A whimper comes from her pressed together lips, her body huddling together to make herself as small as possible.
“Alayna,” I hum, keeping my tone as soft and light as I can. “You’re having flashbacks. You’re not back there, you’re here with me, Rhys, and Riggs. We’re here to protect you. No one will hurt you while you have us. Come back to me, Lay.”
The guys rush into the room, their footsteps hurried behind me, but they know better than to make any loud noises. Neither of them say anything as they approach the other side of the island. Keeping their distance, they look between Alayna and me, wondering what the fuck just happened. Too much to discuss right now, guys.
“Tell me what you see around you, Lay. Describe the scents in the air here,” I coach her, slowly drawing her back into the present and away from the horrors of her past. “You can do this, Lay. Remember where you are. It’s a flashback and not where you are.”
“T-the counter is grey,” she whispers, her eyes looking less dazed and glassy. “It’s cold beside me. I can smell sandalwood and musky bourbon, the smell coming from the three of you.”
“That’s good,” I encourage her, finally getting those beautiful grey eyes to focus on me again. “What else do you see?”
“Your hazel eyes,” Lay murmurs, the colour gradually returning to her skin. “There’s a red mark on the collar of your white Breaking Benjamin t-shirt.”
Glancing down, I pull out the collar, groaning when I see that she’s right. A small laugh bubbles from her, the sound like a breath of fresh air after that call and c-ptsd episode. A genuine smile breaks out on my face, the relief of having her back with us making me laugh too.
“What the fuck just happened?” Riggs asks, ever so eloquently.
“Lay got a call,” I answer, grabbing one of her hands with my own and intertwining our fingers for support. “It was from the stalker asshole. He took ownership for the gifts and burning down the bar.”
Pausing, I rub the back of Lay’s hand with my thumb as she squeezes it so tightly my circulation cuts off. The guys curse, both of them looking about as angry as the call fucking made me.
“He also said he had been in her apartment,” I continue. Rhys goes deathly still, his body vibrating with enough anger to fuel a fucking volcano. Riggs isn’t looking much better, so I brace myself for the explosion that’s going to come after this next part. “He made a comment about cumming with her body wash then followed it up with how he can’t wait to see her soon and the disgusting things he wants to do which I will not be repeating right now.”
