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“Hey Edward, we’re going to need you. No, we’re going to need guidance and possible clean up. I’ll need your best man on this,” Father’s voice carries over to me.
‘Who the fuck is Edward?’
Before I can ask, Conner tugs on my arm. “Come on, let’s get a move on. Go back home with your father’s driver.”
“Why are you staying? Why does he need you?” My eyes catch on the blood drops on his shirt, and he registers my stare.
Lifting my chin, he looks deep into my eyes. “Men like you don’t need to ask too many questions.”
My brows furrow. “Why not?”
‘And what do men like you need to do, Conner?’
I feel like a child being sent to his room, but I can’t get my lips to form accusations to sling at Conner because my brain is still reeling in confusion and shock.
“Because there will always be men like me who will clean up the messes you make.”
I open my mouth to deny his statement, but no words form on my tongue. Because he’s not wrong, is he? I’d made such a fucking mess of this night and my life. Because this is going to stick with me. Drugs and alcohol or not. This is going to be the defining moment in my life, I know it.
Father and Conner want me to bury it, sweep it under a rug and move on. But how can I? This is how powerful men turn to monsters. A dark cloud whirls in my chest, and I know I’ll never be the same. The stain of tonight will forever change me.
My eyes open, tears spilling down my cheeks as I moan and thrash my head back and forth, eyes meeting those of my attacker as he mumbles something clearly meant for me to hear as Carina’s gaze swings toward me.
She pulls off his lap, turning and confronting me with the body I’ve seen in my nightmarish memories. But now it’s nourished and full. I know I shouldn’t look. Not knowing what I know now. It’s not right. It’s not okay. But I can’t tear my eyes off her. She’s prowling toward me with confidence and power that I’m in awe of.
She bends over me, hands resting on my arms and squeezing. “Do you see how good it can be when someonewillinglygives into someone else? Do you see how good it could’ve been? That’s what happens when you don’t take, Emery. When you’re not a monster.” Her words sear into my brain. They’ll haunt me for the rest of my life. As that night will. As will the image of her perfect body, healed from my damage.
Turning, she tells the fucker who’d taken me in her honor to take her home.
She’s done what I thought she wouldn’t. She’s leaving me here. She’s leaving me with him. I’d thought, surely, she’d see me tied up here and immediately go and get help or try to set me free. Instead, she looks reborn. Unbound from the past and all its pain.
“Come, little one,” he tells her after she’s dressed.
My chest fills with dread with her being so near someone I can feel has the same inky depths I do. He’s a foe, and she needs to stay clear of him, but who’s going to tell her? Me? I can barely get a coherent sentence out of my mouth. Even now, drool is dribbling from the corners of my lips. The door to the warehouse shuts, and I let out a whimper.
“Help!” I manage, but it’s not loud enough for anyone to hear. My body is so tired, and yet electrified at the same time. And with good right. She’d done a number on my nervous system with that fucking machine. But she deserved her revenge and then some.
My body looks nothing like hers had.
She could’ve killed me, and it wouldn’t have been enough.
As my head bobs, consciousness waning. I hear the door rattling. The same chain-like noise sounds as when my attacker comes and goes, and I know it’s not been enough time for him to be back from taking her home. I wonder if they’ve come back. Come back for more.
A sob gets stuck in my throat. I won’t let it out because I know I deserve this. Leaving her battered on that floor had broken my mind, and now that the memory of its back, I need to be punished, and she deserves her revenge.
“Hello?” I manage, voice gravel-filled and slurred as it grates across my vocal cords.
“There you are. Fuck, they’ve done a number on you, hmm? Do you know who had you?” the man asks. My mind works to figure out who the fuck he is.
“Who are you?” I slur, head feeling heavy and bobbing again.
“That’s not important. I’m paid a lot of money to keep my eyes on you. That’s all you need to know.”
He looks familiar. But my brain is too fried to place his face.
“You’re my guardian angel?” I ask, not knowing where the question had come from.
“In essence. Let’s get you out of these. Hold still.”
