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Running water gained my attention, but still I didn’t move from Romeo’s side of the bed. It was like I was frozen in time, at will to the elements around me, and not able to do a damn thing to defend myself against them.
My breaths became heavier—faster. The water switched off. Footsteps padded closer. Then Romeo’s face appeared, his arm holding the towel to his head as he dried his hair off. His gaze caught mine, a smile pulling at his lips, the kind of smile that told me how he felt about me in seconds.
And that was all I needed for my breaths to become easier and the tingling in my fingers to go away.
I was always so unsure of things until his eyes told me differently. It was something I needed to work on—not to rely on him so much—but it was hard when he was one of only a few people I trusted.
“I gotta head to my dad’s and then to the mansion,” Romeo said, pulling his clothes on that he’d laid out before he went into the bathroom. “Raf has to come to the meeting too, but won’t be leaving for a couple of hours, so just…” He trailed off, cracking his neck to the side, clearly frustrated and anxious. “You know where everything is.”
Reading between the lines was something I was becoming majorly good at, and this was one of those times. “I do,” I said, pushing out of the bed and heading toward the bathroom, finishing our usual routine of Romeo showering first and then me.
“Wait,” he called, his fingers wrapping around my wrist, halting me. “You forgot something.”
I fluttered my lashes at him, a knowing grin on my lips. “Did I?”
“Yeah, you did.” He pressed against me, the only thing between us his clothes, including the T-shirt I was wearing. “If I didn’t have to leave you, I’d still be in that bed with you.” I hummed, wishing that we were, but unfortunately, Romeo had commitments and a job to do. “I’ll see you later, angel?” Nodding, I silently agreed, relishing in the press of his lips as he kissed me once, twice, three times, then finally pulled away, leaving me standing in the middle of the bathroom doorway.
I stood there for several seconds until my body pushed into gear and I heard the front door click closed as I headed into the bathroom, then switched the water back on. I could have gotten in the shower with Romeo, but no matter how much he’d asked me to “save water with him” as he put it, I just couldn’t get up the nerve to do it.
Pulling the T-shirt off my head, I tried to avoid my body’s reflection in the mirror. The bruises were gone now, but that didn’t mean there weren’t scars left behind. The one that ran the entire length of my inner thigh didn’t look as angry and red as the ones on my stomach. They both told a story of the trauma I’d gone through though—one a reminder of when my parents died and the other full of memories of being tied to that X in the middle of the club.
“No,” I whispered, staring myself in the eye. “Don’t think about it.” The verbal words tricked my brain and all of the images that were trying to flash in my mind dissipated, leaving behind an emptiness that I knew I would try to fill all day, but nothing would actually work until Romeo walked back in the house.
I relied on him too much.
I paced toward the shower but stopped suddenly as I heard footsteps creaking up the stairs. My stomach rolled, my lips lifting at the corners. Maybe Romeo had changed his mind and decided to stay home after all. They came closer, and I didn’t make a move to get in the shower or to cover myself. “Did you forget something?” I asked, staring at the half-open bathroom door.
The hinges creaked, something I hadn’t noticed before that moment. A hand came into view, then an arm covered in a suit jacket—wait, Romeo had been wearing a T-shirt when he left, so at odds with how everyone else dressed, well, everyone but Raf who was a mixture of business and casual, but always dark colors.
“Yeah,” a voice answered, the rough timbre immediately causing me to stumble back a step.
His face appeared, a smirk sent my way as his dark eyes took me in, trailing along my naked body. “Ready and waiting for me, huh?” He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.
“W-w-what are you doing here?” I backed up until I hit the tiled wall, the coolness shocking me and making me gasp.
He tutted, shaking his head, the playful look vanishing off his face in an instant. He hadn’t been able to keep that in place for long, which didn’t bode well for what was going to happen next. “I thought I taught you better than to ask questions, Bailey.”
My hand gripped the bottom of my throat, a move I hadn’t done for weeks. A move that showed him exactly how I felt in that moment. And I hated it—I hated how when it came to Mr. Pozzi, I couldn’t lock away the fear that blasted through me.
“I…I…”
He stepped forward, each of his movements slow and precise, but I had nowhere to go. If only I could sink into the wall and escape him. But he had me trapped, just like he always had. And it was then that I realized I may have been freed from the club, but the constraints this man had put on my mind would never truly go away, not as long as he was still inhaling oxygen and exhaling carbon dioxide.
“What’s the matter, Bailey?” His tone was taunting. “Cat got your tongue?”
I stared at him with wide eyes, my body frozen against the wall, fear capturing every single part of me the closer he got.
Then he pounced, his hands grabbing me around the waist and pulling me toward him. I dropped my head, curling in on myself as he shoved me away from him. My body collided with the wall at such force that I swore I heard and felt a crack in my rib. The instant difficulty in breathing confirmed it as he pulled at me again and repeated the move.
Only, this time, he followed it up with the back of his hand slapping me so hard across the face that my ears rang. My body fell in on itself, not able to defend against him—against the man who held me in a physical and mental prison for months.
“You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Bailey.” He laughed, the sound manic, evil, and just plain wrong. His hand whipped out, wrapping around my neck as he held me against the wall, lifting me so that my feet weren’t touching the floor.
I panicked, my instinct kicking in as I clawed at his arm, my eyes almost popping out of my head at how hard he squeezed.
“You think I don’t know who you are now?” He tilted his head, his body pressing against mine. I gagged at the sensation of his erection poking me in the stomach and what it meant—what he’d come here for. “I know who your uncle is.” He paused, his other hand moving lower followed by the clang of metal on metal—his belt buckle.
I pushed my nails into the skin on his arm, trying to gain traction, trying to take a damn breath and refusing to allow this to happen to me—again. The edges of my vision started to blur, my body going limp, and apparently that was all he needed to let up a little. He clearly wanted me to be conscious while he did whatever he came here to do.
