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I nod. His fingers find the small of my back. Immediately, a slight shiver races over my body. It’s involuntary, but the fear of being hurt is still there. “Look at me,” he utters. An order which causes me to stop, my eyes meeting his. “I’ll never fucking hurt you like he did.”
I look at him for a long while. Is he a wolf in sheep’s clothing? No. There’s brutal honesty in his gaze. I know one fact, and that’s Drake Savage is indeed a devil in angel’s finery. He smiles once more. That same intense grin makes my stomach flip-flop and my heart beat wildly in my chest. Nodding slowly, I respond, “Fine.”
This feels too easy. Almost. There are two men dressed in black cleaning the mess I made. Thanos’s body is gone, and I notice River is watching another two men from their team work around the room, invading the cabinets. I’m unsure of what they’re looking for, but I keep my mouth shut.
“Sir, we’ve found the basement where he kept the—” The young man’s words halt when his eyes land on me. No doubt he found my cage.
“What is it, Crow?” River questions, insistence in his tone.
“There’s something you need to see.”
“I’ll be there in a moment,” he responds, then turns to Drake, questioning with a serious expression that only serves to make my anxiety twist low in my gut. “See you at the house?”
“Yes.” One word, and Drake’s fingers find my back as he guides me from my hell. Being here was the worst nightmare I’d ever lived through, and as we walk out of the mansion, I inhale fresh air for the first time in almost four years.
“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment. The men here will keep you safe,” Drake tells me earnestly. I want to answer him, to give him my voice, but all I can do is nod. I thought I was stronger, but I realize in the moment his cerulean orbs meet mine, I’m not. The girl who first fell for those big blue eyes is back, and I can’t tamper down the feelings.
I was eighteen when I arrived at the Savage Mansion and met Drake. The private school girl who was lost to her family for so long I’m sure they think I’m dead. My chest tightens painfully, reminding me that my old life is gone. I’m no longer that innocent girl.
I’m new.
Reborn.
I’ve given up trying to find her. Deep down, no matter how long I search, I know she’s a stranger to me. My heart is no longer filled with happiness and affection. And I’ve done something I never thought I could ever do. I’ve stabbed someone. I’m a killer. A murderer who’s lost everything. As I step out into my new life, I make a choice.
I’m stronger.
I’m no longer Caia, the toy.
I’m Caia Amoretto, the survivor.
CHAPTER TEN
DRAKE
As soon as I reach the cells, we find three other girls hidden in the corners of each room. They’re cold, malnourished, and one is bleeding profusely.
“Get them to the hospital,” I order Crow, one of the best men on my team. River joins me, his eyes dark filled with hatred and anger. “This is . . .” I turn to the last cell and find a familiar face that is the spitting image of River. The big green eyes, the dark hair, and pouty lips of Rayne Atwood. She looks exactly like her brother. As if they were twins, but I know she’s younger.
My body turns cold, rigid with confusion and rage. She’s skinny, sickly, and pale. There are black rims under her big eyes; those that used to shine with life are now lifeless and dead. Everything has been stolen from her.
“Rayne?” My best friend’s voice is nothing more than a shocked whisper, but the pain it drips when he utters her name grips my chest. His sister’s eyes are wide when she takes us both in. I haven’t seen her since she was two, maybe three-years-old. River never spoke of her since the day their mother disappeared with her. We thought they were both killed. But the girl before us is very much alive.
“Get her out of here,” I utter at Crow as soon as he returns. But as soon as two men reach for her, she loses her fucking mind. Her screech is ear-piercing. “Do it!” I command, and as they move closer to her, I notice one of the men has a syringe.
“It’s an injection that will help calm her,” I inform River when his stare zeros in on the needle, but he knows this. It’s his own concoction of drugs that we’ve used before.
As soon as it pierces her flesh, she goes down like a fucking rag doll. She’s naked, and I can’t help taking in the blue and purple bruises on her body. There are cuts and scabs on her knees. A botch job of stitches on her lower abdomen is visible when they move by us with her limp form.
