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“Get up. Now.” I can barely make sense of what James is ordering me to do, but Colt understands. He lifts me off him and practically throws me onto the couch, where I land on my stomach. A hand presses against my back—I don’t know who it belongs to. I only know James is now out of his seat, crossing the small space between us, fisting himself faster, faster.
I close my eyes and bite my lip, holding back a cry of pure humiliation as the three of them come across my ass. It feels like it’s never going to end; their groans, their satisfied sighs as they milk themselves all over me.
But then it ends because it has to, and all I can do is be thankful it’s over.
Unlike last time, James doesn’t say a word. I’m glad. I don’t want to hear his voice again tonight.
Eventually, something touches my ass. Fabric. Probably my shirt or something. “Come on. Get up.” It’s Colt, his voice flat. When I lift my head and dare to look around, I find it’s just the two of us, and my clothes are balled up in his hands. My thighs are so sore from all that work, but I fight to get on my feet, following him up the stairs to my room.
I expect him to leave me alone right away like he did before, but instead, he enters the room with me and closes the door behind him. I’m too tired, too embarrassed, and hurt to ask why. It doesn’t even occur to me to argue with him when he takes me by the hand and leads me to the bathroom. It takes no time for him to strip down. I’m not even interested in looking at him or noticing his body as he steps into the shower, turning on the water before extending a hand and beckoning me.
It’s just like it was before, with Nix, when I was too tired and too broken inside to care much about washing myself up. It is good to feel that water on me, though, running over my head and down my body.
He doesn’t say a word. He only gently, slowly washes me with a soapy rag. I close my eyes and give myself over to him for the second time tonight, parting my legs when he nudges them apart so he can slowly run the rag over my pussy. He takes special care with my ass, too, until nobody would ever know I was violated tonight. Again.
It’s only the touch of his fingers against my scar that stirs me to react. I flinch, tensing up, holding my breath. “You don’t have to do that,” he whispers, touching it again. I look up at him, blinking the water out of my eyes, and he’s wearing something close to a smile. It’s soft and almost sweet. “You’re still beautiful, with or without this,” he whispers, stroking my scar. “It doesn’t make you who you are. It doesn’t define you. Don’t let it.”
Tears mix with the water running down my face. Are they tears of embarrassment or gratitude? I don’t know. I don’t have it in me to figure it out right now.
All I know is once we’re out of the shower and dried off, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to hold a hand out when he starts for the door. “Please. Don’t leave. Stay with me.”
He hesitates, his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing. I pull the blankets back and crawl into bed, never doubting for a moment he’ll join me.
He does, and unlike with Nix, he doesn’t leave any space between us. Instead, he wraps his arms around me from behind and holds me close. For the first time in a week, I truly relax, melting against him, leaving everything else behind in favor of feeling warm. Safe.
I know it doesn't make sense to feel safe in his arms. I should be appalled by his touch, cringe away from his body, yet I lean into him for comfort. Maybe they finally did it—they broke my mind. The worst part is, I don’t even care, not right now at least. Right now I’m so desperate, I’ll take any kindness I can.
Even if I have no idea how long the feeling will last.
CHAPTER29
The sun is shining by the time I open my eyes again. It hits me right away. There was no middle-of-the-night drama, no close calls with James. I never thought the idea of sleeping through the night would matter quite this much. It’s like this experience has changed everything I ever thought mattered.
I’m alone in bed, too. I don’t register Colt’s absence right away, but once I do, I look across the room, expecting him to be in the bathroom. He’s not. He must have left quietly while I was out cold. I almost wish he hadn’t, even if I’m glad I avoided the awkwardness of facing him this morning.
My eyes must be playing tricks on me. I blink hard and rub my fists over them, but the image in front of me doesn’t change.
The door is partly open.
Right away, my heart takes off at double time. Does he realize he did it? I’m afraid to hope, afraid to think this might mean something good. Maybe he only thought he closed it but didn’t all the way. Whatever the reason, I’m not going to let an opportunity slip through my fingers.
I hop out of bed as quietly as I can, then exercise just as much care in pulling jeans and a T-shirt from my dresser without making a sound. As soon as I’m dressed, I tiptoe out into the hall, listening for any voices. It’s past eight o’clock, so it’s not early enough that I can hope everybody’s still asleep. James is probably up and around somewhere. I guess he eventually has to get back to the office, even if he is supposed to be on his honeymoon right now.
I can’t help but remember the women at the rehearsal dinner. The way they all looked at him like he was some big prize. They didn’t even bother to hide their interest, even with him standing arm in arm with the woman he was marrying the following day.
I wonder what they would think of him if they knew what he’s really like.
I still don’t hear anything coming from downstairs, so I take the chance of going down slowly, one step at a time, listening hard all the way. By the time I’m at the bottom of the staircase, I haven’t heard anything to discourage me from trying to get through the front door. It doesn’t come as a huge surprise when the knob won’t turn—and I don’t have a key for the special bolt that’s been engaged.
I’m not going to give up. There has to be another way. The back door? I don’t remember ever seeing a special lock on the door leading from the kitchen to the patio. When I head in that direction, I look up the stairs, expecting to find someone staring down at me. That doesn’t happen, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take my time getting to the kitchen, starting down the hall with my heart in my throat the whole time.
The sight of my stepbrothers sitting at the island, both eating cereal, kills that idea. I should have known better. Frustration threatens to bring tears to my eyes, but I fight them back.
Colt lifts his chin in acknowledgment of my entrance. There’s nothing in his posture or the look on his face to suggest anything that happened last night, or the fact that he spent hours holding me in bed. It’s almost enough to make me wonder if I imagined the whole thing.
“Good morning. Here, have some breakfast.” He pushes the cereal box my way, even though I haven’t yet taken a seat. I don’t know that I will, either.
Nix reads my hesitation right away. “He’ll be out all day.” There’s no need to explain who he’s talking about. “He said he has back-to-back meetings.”
