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I’d always hoped to have that with someone—anal sex—and now it feels like it’s been irrevocably stolen from me. The thought of anyone, even someone I absolutely love and trust, inside of me has bile creeping up my throat.
I’m fucking ruined.
Ryder trots up to me, slings an arm over my shoulders, and grins. “I can see the fence. We’re home, Ro. We finally did it.”
His smile is radiant and contagious, but I don’t feel the joy he does.
I’m lost in unfamiliar territory. A prisoner to my memories. Despair dragging down my every thought.
We walk along the fence and then enter the gate. It’s late afternoon, so I get a prime view of the complete damage Logan and his people wreaked on our lives.
The big house is gone. Just a pile of charred logs, debris, and rubble. The living room rock fireplace remains, as do some of the bigger framing logs, but most everything else is unrecognizable. Chickens cluck nearby in their pen and the goat brays in greeting. Our orchards and gardens remain, as do the smaller cabins, workshop, and barn.
We’ll rebuild.
We have no other choice.
I notice Sadie and Aunt Eve near the playset by the workshop with a bunch of the little kids. Chet, Wild, and Uncle Atticus are standing in the barn, working on making another water collection container like the ones attached to Ryder’s and my cabins. It makes sense now that the big house is gone that we’ll need to collect more water to filter for drinking and bathing.
“My God!”
Mom’s voice rings out to my left and I see her walking out of the cabin with Dawson on her hip. She starts running toward us, stopping first to greet Rowdy and Destiny. Turning away, I avoid seeing Mom’s grief as she comes to her own conclusion about what’s wrong with her daughter. Ryder nudges me with his shoulder, but I can’t look at him either.
What will she see when she looks at my face?
Will she know the horrors I’ve been through?
Shame has me shutting down completely. I attempt to turn off my emotions. Talking about what happened with Logan is simply not an option. I’m hopeful Kristen will keep her knowledge to herself. I’m tempted to dart past Mom without being gathered in her comforting hug but know that won’t fly with her. If anything, it’ll only put more of a spotlight on me, which I certainly don’t want or need.
“Hey, Mom,” I say, approaching her with a forced smile. “Missed you.”
She lets go of Destiny’s hand to pull me to her with one arm, squeezing me. Dawson babbles his usual nonsense and tries to steal my glasses. I gently pluck his hand from the frames before moving out of his reach.
“They hurt you,” Mom says, voice choked and tears spilling down her cheeks. “You’re bruised and cut up. Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
Pain swells up from the center of my chest and lodges into my throat. I fight tears by rapidly blinking. Biting down on my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling, I give her a one-shouldered shrug. Her eyebrows pinch together in worry.
“I’m going to go see Dad,” I mutter. “Ryder got hurt. You need to take a look at his eyebrow.”
She darts her gaze to Ryder and then lands back on mine. “Visit your daddy. He’s in your cabin. Then get cleaned up. We’ll talk later, sweetie.”
Thankful to be out of her scrutiny, I leave my group to look for my father. I open the door to find Raegan sitting in a chair near where he lies on the bed, talking softly to him.
“Ronan!” Raegan shrieks, abandoning her seat and launching herself at me. “You’re home!”
I hug my sister to me, inhaling the clean scent of her hair. Her breath tickles my neck, reminding me of when she came into my tent and put her mouth on my dick to get it wet. A shudder ripples through me and I’m unsure if it’s a good one or a bad one. Either way, I extract myself from her arms and then walk over to my father.
“Dad,” I rasp out. “You look like hell.”
Dad chuckles and reaches for me. “Feel like hell too. Some of these stab wounds were deep. Your mother has forbidden me from doing anything until I’m better healed up. Maybe now that all her babies are home, she’ll have something to distract her.”
Smiling, a real one now, I take the chair Raegan vacated. I hold on to Dad’s hand, drawing in his strength. His searching gaze is like Mom’s, but not as intense. It’s filled with warmth and relief. He’s just happy we’re safe and back.
Dad asks me to tell him all about my journey from the beginning until now. Raegan probably already told him everything she knew—the beatings I took from Logan—but he seems to want to hear it from my point of view. I spend the next hour telling him everything except the sexual abuse I’d suffered. Not only do I not want to burden him with that, I’m not sure how he’ll react to the fact it was from a man. It would only draw attention to the reason why Logan chose me as his pet in the first place.
When I’m all talked out, I excuse myself to take a shower—my first real one in what feels like weeks.
I’ll get out of my dreadful funk.
