Page 17

CHAPTER 16

I can’t wrap my head around what I’m seeing. My thoughts are running rampant, my body shaking with rage. Nothing makes sense except the fury boiling in my veins.

What the fuck did they do to her?

Better yet, why is she so calm? Why isn’t she screaming or panicking? Her goddamn pants are around her ankles.

All the while, Aidric is grinning from ear to ear as he sucks on his fingers. And Sebastian is pulling his pants up, adjusting his noticeably hard dick.

I’m going to kill him. I’ll kill both of them.

The second her wrists are free, I yank her sweatpants back up, and pull her into me, wrapping my arms around her as if I can shield her from everything, like I can somehow undo whatever just happened.

I lean down, voice shaking. “What did they do to you?” I whisper harshly. “Tell me they didn’t rape you, Avery. Please. I’m begging you. Tell me they didn’t.”

What the hell is the matter with me?

“I’m fine, Callan,” she says calmly—too calmly. But I don’t buy it. She’s not fine. She’s shaking just as badly as I am.

Her pants were fucking down, for crying out loud!

That image is seared into my brain like a brand. I can’t stop seeing it. Can’t stop wondering what they did. What he did.

If Aidric touched her—if he fucked her—while she was chained, while she couldn’t even fight back, I swear to God…

I. Will. Fucking. Kill. Him.

I glance over my shoulder, eyes locking on Sebastian. He’s back on his feet, teeth grinding, as he shakes his head at me like I’m the one who crossed the line. Like I’m the problem here.

But if Aidric did something and Sebastian just stood there and let it happen, then he’s no better.

“I see you’ve got your fucking phone,” I spit at Sebastian. “Real fucking cool, man.”

He throws his hands up, smirking like this is all some twisted game he’s already won. And that makes me want to knock his teeth in even more. This is a game, sure, but rape is not on the table. Murder? Fine. But rape? Fuck no.

“What can I say?” Sebastian chuckles, low and dry. “She wanted it.”

My blood turns to ice. “Wanted what?”

He shrugs, casual as ever. “All of it.”

I don’t know what the hell that means, and right now, it’s probably best I don’t.

These are supposed to be my brothers—my family. But I don’t play dirty like that. Yeah, Avery’s a loose cannon who needs to be silenced.

But not like this.

I know this girl. I’ve known her for a long time. Long enough to remember the way she smiled before the world hardened her, long enough to still feel the wreckage she left when she shattered my heart. She gave me every reason to want revenge. And yeah, I want that.

But not like this.

These guys don’t know a damn thing about her. They see fire they want to snuff out, a wild animal they think they can tame. They don’t care if she ends up taking the fall for all of this. They don’t care about her. Not like I do… did . Not like I did.

Refusing to spare them another second of my time, I wrap an arm around Avery, keeping her close as I guide her toward the stairs, my body still buzzing with rage.

I keep expecting her to burst out in tears, tremble, something. But she remains stone-faced as we climb the stairs one at a time. Like being chained to an altar by two sadistic bastards was nothing more than a slight detour in her day.

She has to be in shock. It’s the only explanation for the emptiness in her eyes.

Then suddenly, she shoves me to the side. “Get your hands off me,” she hisses.

I stumble back, stunned as I catch myself from falling backward. “Excuse me? I’m helping you.”

“Helping me?” She spits out a bitter laugh, turning to me with an accusing glare that is so intense, I almost flinch. “You’re not helping me, Callan. You’re just as bad as those two. Probably worse.”

Her words cut deeper than any blade because, once again, I put myself out there for her, and she has the audacity to push me aside like I’m nothing better than the dirt on her shoe.

“You’ve been playing me this whole time,” she grits out. “You pretended this would all blow over, like I wasn’t being hunted. And all along, you knew. You fucking knew they had a video of me in the forest.”

“Video?” I spit. “What video?” I have no idea what the hell she’s talking about, but I get the feeling my boys have been keeping shit from me.

She shakes her head in disbelief. “Don’t do that. Don’t play dumb with me, Callan. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You guys all fucking played me. But what happened on that altar doesn’t even come close to the level of betrayal I feel from you.” She jabs a finger hard into my chest before turning and jogging up the stairs.

And just like that, she’s gone, while I’m left standing in the wreckage of everything I never meant to break.

As her footsteps pound up the stairs, I turn to face the guys who are lounging like nothing happened, mid-conversation, probably reliving the fun they just had. “What the hell is this video she’s talking about?”

They share a look, and their silence is telling. “You guys fucking recorded her burning the box?”

“Had to.” Sebastian shrugs. “You might trust her, but we sure as hell don’t.”

I suck in a deep breath, forcing down the rage threatening to spill over.

Not now. I’ll deal with this bullshit later. Right now, I’ve got more important things to handle.

Taking my time, I trail behind Avery. She needs a few minutes to process what just happened. Hell, I need to process it. I need to figure out what the fuck just happened, and what the hell I’m supposed to do about it.

Once I make it upstairs, I spot a couple of my housemates lounging in the living room, talking shit like nothing’s out of the ordinary.

Ignoring them, I make a beeline for the front door.

Then, a voice stops me cold.

“She’s not out there,” Slade calls out.

My head snaps around. “What?”

“She’s upstairs. In your room.”

I blink, caught off guard. “Why the hell is she in my room?”

Slade just shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “She asked where it was. I pointed her in the right direction. She’s fucking hot, man. Go tear that shit up.”

I grit my teeth, a low grumble leaving me as I head for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The last thing I’m thinking about right now is tearing that shit up. What I need is answers.

My feet don’t stop as I power down the long hallway, passing six bedrooms before finally reaching mine. Without hesitation, I throw open the door.

And there she is.

Standing at my desk like she owns the place, flipping through the pages of Notes from Underground like she wasn’t just chained to an altar while my two brothers fucked with her.

“Did you read this?” she asks, her voice almost bored. She doesn’t even look up, like she knew I was there the second my hand touched the doorknob.

“Twice, actually,” I say, leaning into the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to read her now.

Avery’s eyes flick up before dropping back to the book. “Interesting.”

She snaps it shut with a sharp thud, placing it back on the desk before her gaze begins to sweep around my room. Like she’s sizing me up through the objects I keep.

I arch a brow. “Why’s that interesting?”

She shrugs, not looking at me. “Just didn’t peg you as the type to read something from the 1800s. You strike me more as the psychological thriller or gore kind of guy. Actually…” She tsks softly. “…I didn’t see you as a reader at all.”

I step into the room, closing the door gently behind me. “Like I’ve said many times before, you don’t know me, Avery.”

She turns to face me, eyes sharp. “Seems we’ve got that in common. Because you don’t know me, either.” Taking a step closer, fire burns behind her calm exterior. “You and your savage little crew think you can break me, like I haven’t already been shattered. But here’s the thing,” she says, pointing to her chest. “It’s the broken parts that keep me from giving a damn. You’ll soon find out, like your friends just did…” She steps past me, her shoulder brushing mine. “…I’m just as fucked up as all of you.”

I don’t let her get far. Before she’s more than a step past me, my arm shoots out, wrapping around her waist and yanking her back against my chest. She stiffens, but I don’t let go. “What did they do to you?” I grit out, my breath hot against her ear.

She doesn't answer right away, and the silence between us is louder than any scream.

“Nothing I didn’t want,” she says, tone maddeningly casual, like we’re discussing the weather and not the aftermath of something that’s tearing me apart inside.

“If anything,” she adds. “You should be asking what I did for them. Sebastian specifically.”

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. “What the hell does that mean?” My voice is broken and raw. “What did you do for Sebastian?”

“I sucked him off,” she says flatly. “And he came all over my face.”

The room tilts. My blood runs cold, then boils. Every part of me screams.

She said it like it meant nothing. She’s not just telling me to tell me. She wants to hurt me— again . And damn if it isn’t working.

I’m not supposed to care. I swore I was done caring. If anything, I should want my boys to use her—to wreck her body, twist her mind, and leave her hollow and begging. That was the plan. Break her down and make her pay.

But I can’t shake it.

These fucking emotions keep clawing their way to the surface, no matter how hard I try to drown them.

No. I won’t allow her to sink her hooks into me again. I can’t.

Reaching out, I wrap a lax hand around her throat, not squeezing—just controlling. Tilting her chin up, I bring those sharp honey eyes to mine. “Did you like it?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.

My gaze drops to her lips. The ones that were just wrapped around my best friend’s cock. “Did you like him fucking your mouth?”

I relish the way she swallows against my palm, like she’s caught in the crossfire between fear and pride. Terrified to admit she liked it, but just twisted enough to want to brag about how much she did.

Because I know she did.

Avery won’t say it out loud—at least, not yet—but she’s got a freaky side to her. She’s a wicked little thing who thrives under attention, especially when it’s on her body. She radiates confidence—wears it like armor. She knows exactly what she’s working with, and she’s never been afraid to flaunt it.

I figured that out the night we had sex.

“Go ahead, Callan. Touch me,” Avery rasps, her sultry voice igniting something primal in my chest.

This is the shit I’ve fantasized about since the first time I saw her strut down the hall at Rosewood High like she already owned the place. She wasn’t just confident—she commanded attention, and she got mine, instantly.

Then Brogan brought her home and introduced her as her new best friend.

Her. The girl of my dreams.

Man, I fell harder than I could have ever fucking imagined.

Our flirty hallway glances turned into something that took root and started growing, fast and wild. I know she felt it, too.

The way her fingers are trailing down my abs like she’s memorizing me with her touch is proof that she wants me as much as I want her.

But this isn’t about just one night. Not with the way my name rolls off her tongue like a promise. This is about the long run. At least, it is for me.

She bites the corner of her lip, sending heat straight to my core. “Fuck, Avery,” I groan. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

But I already know what she’s doing. She’s unraveling me piece by piece, and I’m letting her.

She smirks, all confidence and sass. “Whatever I wanna do to you, Callan. I just want…you,” she says breathlessly between open-mouthed kisses on my neck.

Everything about that night was magical. It was like time had bent just for us.

Until it didn’t.

When we finished, Avery jumped out of my bed and snatched her phone off the floor like it was burning a hole in the carpet. One glance at the screen, and everything changed.

She didn’t even have the nerve to look at me. She just said what we did was a mistake and it could never happen again.

For weeks, I tortured myself, overthinking every look, every word, every touch—replaying all of it on a loop in my head.

But fuck no. I didn’t do a damn thing wrong.

I treated her like a fucking queen and she still walked away like none of it mattered.

When that realization hit, I snapped.

I fucking broke because of her, and I haven’t been the same since.

Just thinking about it all pulls me back into that headspace I swore I’d never return to. After her, I made myself a promise to never let anyone hurt me like that again. To never let someone twist me up so bad I didn’t recognize myself.

And I’ll be damned if I let the same girl do it twice.

I’m not even sure why I repeat the question she still hasn’t answered.

“So,” I ask again, “did you like what my boys did to you on that altar?”

She meets my stare, a wicked smirk tugging at her lips. “I didn’t like it,” she says, each word slowly. “I fucking loved it.”

Something snaps inside me. I shove her back instinctively, disgust rising in my throat. I can’t even look at her. That grin—so twisted and so proud—makes me fucking sick.

I hope to God she’s just saying this to get under my skin, because if she’s not…if she really enjoyed whatever twisted shit Seb and Aidric did to her, then we’ve got a bigger problem on our hands than we thought.

Avery isn’t just some reckless girl with hardcore shooting skills. She’s unpredictable and uncontainable. And right now it looks like she’s prepared to burn our whole fucking world to the ground with a smile on her pretty little face.

I could tell her Seb and Aidric have been conspiring behind my back. That I was no part of what they did today, or the video, or much of anything they’ve been up to. But she’s made up her mind. She can go ahead and glorify what they did to her like they’re fucking saints.

Fuck them, and fuck her.

“Get the hell outta my room,” I growl, my finger jabbing toward the door. “In fact, get the hell outta my house. I can’t stand to look at you a second longer.”

“Aww,” she mocks, as her hand runs down my arm. “Is someone jealous?”

I slap her hand away, fury flashing through me. “Not a chance in hell. I just don’t want to watch my boys fall for a vixen who’s gonna break their hearts the same way you did mine.”

Her smirk drops, and for a split second, something real flickers in her eyes. “I broke your heart?”

“What?” I snap, the word shooting out like a reflex. “No. Fuck no!”

I grab her arm, jaw clenched so tight it hurts. Then I drag her toward the door. “Just fucking go. ”

I shove her out and slam the door behind her. The second it latches, my back hits the wall as I breathe through the silence.

No, Avery. You didn’t break my heart.

You ripped it out of my fucking chest barehanded.