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All I’ve done is hurt her. Even when I was trying not to. She ended up locked up in a cage and subjected to whatever our fathers deemed a worthy punishment.
My hand trembles as I reach for the faucet. Clenching my fist, I try to stop it so she doesn’t see just how affected I am by all of this.
She needs one of us to be strong. And right now, I don’t have a choice. That person has to be me.
The rush of water fills the air and I reach for a bottle of bubble bath that is sitting on the side of the tub.
Twisting the top, I tip the bottle and allow more than half of the contents to mix with the water, immediately filling the room with the scent of flowers.
After checking the temperature, I turn back to Alana.
She’s sitting exactly where I left her, but instead of watching me, her gaze is locked on her hands that are resting in her lap.
They're dirty like the rest of her, showing just a hint of what she’s been through in the past few days.
Under her nails is black, and I can’t help hoping that it’s dried blood, that she managed to take a strike at at least one of them and leave a permanent reminder that she’s not the weak little girl they can bend to their will.
The image of her laid out and tied up over that table when we stormed in fills my mind and acid rushes up my throat.
I’ve no idea how far they took it. Her body is covered in bruises that could be evidence of a whole host of things. But the position she was in doesn’t paint any kind of picture I want to look at and it explains the black, empty look that’s been in her eyes since the moment we found her.
I’d already planned a hundred and one painful ways to make our fathers pay for what they’ve done to all of us. But seeing that, experiencing firsthand what they’d been doing to her all those years.
Fuck.
It unleashed something so potent inside me. My need for vengeance is burning a whole new kind of hot, and there is no fucking way any of those motherfuckers is going to get away with it.
We’re going to regroup and heal. And then we are going to take them down.
We’re going to make them hurt in ways they’ve only ever imagined, and we’re going to enjoy every fucking second of it.
They might be sick, but they need to remember the kinds of kids they raised.
“Are you ready?” I ask, stuffing all my hate and bloodlust back inside the box it needs to remain in for now as I step back up to her.
Lifting her eyes from her lap, they find mine. The look in them guts me and leaves me speechless.
It would be easy to promise her again that I’ll make all of this right.
But that isn’t going to be enough.
I’m pretty sure nothing ever will be after everything she’s endured.
I guess all I can do from here on out is try and make up for the pain I’ve caused.
“Are you sure you want me to be doing this? I could go and wake JD and—”
“No,” she says in a rush. “It needs to be you.”
Her words and the trust she openly gives me despite everything slams into me like a truck, stealing my air and any response I might have.
Why me? Why after everything you have endured because of me do you want me to do this now?
And I’m not even talking about the last few weeks. If I’d have seen what Mav had all those years ago, then I could have done something about all of this back then. Or at least, I could have tried to.
My eyes shutter, unable to focus on the amount of hurt and suffering I can see in the depths of her blue eyes as I reach for the bottom of JD’s shirt.
My knuckles brush her thighs and she gasps at the contact.
