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“What’s that, baby? Are you asking for something?”
My head was clear enough now to hear the warning in his tone and understand the promise in his angry gaze. Submit or be subjugated with fists.
“You don’t own me. I’m no longer yours.”
“Sweetheart, you will always be mine,” he said, loosening his belt. “Looks like you just need help remembering that.”
Instead of hitting me, he tossed the belt aside.
“A baby moving around inside of you will help—something for you to look after. Protect. I hear losing a baby is hard on a woman. You don’t want that, do you?”
Sick understanding hit me hard like a shovel to the head, and I mentally staggered. But I didn’t fall. I would never fall again for him.
“You don’t own me,” I said again, louder. Angrier.
“Oh, I do.” He jerked his pants down just enough for his inadequate tan dick to emerge and knelt on the bed between my knees. “And I’m good to you. So good to you that I lubed you up while looking for this piece of trash.” He tossed the IUD aside. “See? I want you to feel good, baby. Nothing but the best for you.”
Tears slid down my cheeks as I fought the rope holding me in place.
“Raping me won’t keep me here. Putting a baby in me won’t keep me here. Any baby you put inside of me won’t have a chance, no matter what I do. So I will sacrifice everything as many times as it takes until I escape or die trying.”
His face turned red even as he smiled at me.
“Then you’re going to learn a lot of hard lessons.”
A loud crash came from the other room as he positioned himself at my entrance.
“And this will be the last time I do this the nice way.”
The door flew open behind him. I couldn’t see who it was, only the sudden appearance of two grey hands on each side of Nat’s head a second before blood and gore sprayed me. The headless body between my legs started to tip forward, and I closed my eyes.
The weight disappeared. Something gently brushed over my face, and after a few swipes, I braved opening my eyes because I had to know.
Turik’s worried gaze swept over my face. He didn’t ask if I was all right; he simply untied me while a single tear tracked down his cheek, matching the tears running down mine. When I was free, he eased my legs closed. I could feel how his hands were shaking and reached out to capture one in my own.
He made a pained sound when I brought his bloody digits to my lips.
“You’re alive, Turik. And so am I. Vorx?” I asked, afraid of the answer.
“Alive and very angry,” Vorx said from the doorway.
I looked over at him. He was just as bloody as Turik, but there weren’t any tears tracking down his cheeks. The rage filling his eyes wouldn’t allow for it.
“Take me home,” I said simply.
Turik helped me to my feet. Vorx ripped the quilt from the bed and wrapped me in the blanket underneath it. I understood why when Turik carried me outside. We weren’t in Tolerance anymore. Several fey milled around the yard, looking equally angry as they tossed bodies into a pile.
“Is that all of them?” I asked.
Turik grunted.
“Good.” I lay my head against his shoulder and let him carry me the short distance back home.
The fey with us split off as soon as we cleared the wall. I saw one of them stop to talk to another fey, who looked in my direction. The remorse and anger in his expression were too much for me, and I closed my eyes to block everything out until I was ready to deal with it, a skill I’d learned long ago.
When we reached the house, Turik sat on the couch and held me until Vorx returned, freshly washed, and took over. After Turik bathed, Vorx carried me to the shower where they washed me together. Their touch, while infinitely gentle, didn’t linger anywhere. They removed all traces of blood from my face and hair, and when they finished, Vorx left me in Turik’s care to fetch a towel.
I tipped my face up to look at Turik.
