Page 35 of Pink Poison (The Butchers MC #1)

Chapter twenty-five

Stevie

Slowly, I pull the knit dress over my head while steam billows out from the shower.

Every shift of my muscles burns, as if they’ve been coiled for days.

I look at my reflection, taking stock of my tangled hair before moving down to my chest. Aside from a few pinkish splotches on my breasts, there’s nothing that reveals that I’ve had someone’s hands on me, hands that I didn’t ask for— nothing to show that I was forced.

Swallowing thickly, I try—I really fucking try—to pack it away. One day. That's all you get. It should be easy to forget, right ? I mean, I blacked out for most of it…the worst parts.

It could be worse.

I have seen worse on others.

I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm—

The mirror fogs over, covering my reflection from scrutiny. Disgust trickles through me as I lose the visual of myself. Now that I can’t see my markless body, I feel everything.

Phantom touches, tender enough that I could fool myself into believing they were from a lover—if I had one. A punishing grip over my wrists, pinning me. Thrusts, frenzied between my legs. Pack. It. Away.

I push myself away from the sink and step into the scalding shower. It burns like hellfire as the water hits my chest. Good. I hope the heat incinerates the ghostly fingers that are still hovering over my flesh. I want my skin to shed, melt from my muscles. I'd rather be set on fire than feel him.

Closing my eyes, I breathe low and slow as I mentally pick up the pieces of what I remember— the call, the box, arriving at the club —and I pack it away just like Mae said.

My heart races as I step further under the shower head and let the steaming water hit my face.

It stings in the worst of ways, but I'm frozen in place as my mind scrambles to pick up the remaining fragments.

The third floor and its haunting cries. The room with a woman bound. The taste of sweet champagne.

Max.

“Oh, angel. Is this all for him?”

A shuddered gasp breaks free from my lips. Molten, hot streams burn down my cheeks while his words play on repeat in my head. A sickness rolls in me, knowing that I enjoyed it, that I really believed it was really Max.

My nails rake against the places where his touch lingers, drawing angry red lines across the skin. It stings under the water, but I can’t find it in me to care—not when I feel worse than I did when I stepped in here.

“Stevie,” Kash whispers from behind the shower curtain. “Can I help you out of there?”

“I’ll be out,” I breathe as I rinse my body for the fourth time. “Five more minutes.”

Cool air blows through the shower as the curtain is yanked open.

“It’s been an hour, sweetheart.” His words are soft, too soft , matching his tender stare.

I want to scream at him to get out, to turn away and not look at me, but the words are stuck in my throat as he wraps a plush towel around my body.

Gently, as if I'm a precious, fragile piece of art, I'm cradled to his chest while he carries me from the bathroom. Stone moves in quickly behind us and turns off the shower before gathering the soiled dress, Kash's hoodie, and his cut.

“Kash, you can put me down,” I rasp, holding back another wave of tears.

“Not a chance, sweetheart.”

That's all it takes, his voice low and sweet, as if he couldn't fathom the idea of letting go of me for me to crack.

I break in his arms as he brings us to my bed.

My body shakes with every oxygen deprived cry that pierces from my lungs, reverberating off the walls.

I sob for the version of myself that I lost and for who I became after.

I scream into Kash's chest for the women before me, who endured similar fates, and mourn the twisted attraction I have for Max—something I’ve hardly breathed into existence, let alone accepted and how it was taken from me.

Kash's fingers thread through my hair as he whispers hushed words of comfort, "I got you, sweetheart. Let it all out."

And I do, until I have nothing left to give. Voice thick and hoarse, I mumble against his tear soaked shirt, “I’d like to get dressed now.”

He presses a soft kiss to my temple, so sweet that it makes me want to cry all over again. “I'll find you something comfortable.”

I offer him a shaky smile, one that I’m positive doesn’t reach my swollen eyes. His fingers comb through my hair once more before the bed dips as he stands. I close my eyes and attempt to regain a semblance of composure when a warm, calloused finger gently strokes my cheek.

“Stone,” I murmur.

“Pretty doll, will you open those gorgeous eyes for me?” I answer him by fluttering my eyes open. “There she is.” He smiles. God, he's gorgeous. “Is it okay if Kash and I stay here with you tonight?”

“I—”

“You can say no, doll.”

“You can stay,” I whisper. It's not like I want to be alone right now, anyway.

Relief washes over his face as he groans, “Thank fuck.”

A genuine smile teases along the corners of my mouth, giving me a small sense of normalcy. "Don’t get too excited, Butcher. This doesn't mean I like you."

He snorts. "Do you have sleepovers with people you don't like often?"

I lazily flip him off as Kash returns with one of my baggy t-shirts and a pair of sweatpants. He smiles crookedly, offering me the clothes. "These comfortable enough? "

I put the shirt on, ensuring it covers well over my thighs before pulling the towel he wrapped me in out from underneath. "You can toss the pants. I won't be able to sleep in them."

Because I usually sleep naked, but for their sake and mine, a shirt is needed.

He throws my pants back toward my pink gym bag before climbing into the bed behind me. Hooking his arm around my waist, he asks, “Do you want to talk?”

I close my eyes again and let the weight of my reality fall to the back of my mind. I don’t want to think about it, much less talk. For now, I just want to sleep and pretend that nothing has changed.

“Not tonight.” I sigh.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Stone rumbles. “We'll listen, I promise.”

Darkness begs to pull me under, sweeping me away to a place of nothingness with Stone's soft promise playing on repeat. I drift under the current of exhaustion, seconds away from sleep when his distant, gravelly voice pulls to me while he reassures someone that I’m safe.