Page 36

Parker---Aftermath

I’m not surprised Amelia’s having panic attacks. Between the ambush, having to maintain responsibilities as The Fox, and now her PTSD rearing its head? It is no wonder she’s fighting impossible battles. Ames hides her demons well, but I know them almost as well as she does.

I still remember the night she had taken over her father’s Outfit, five years ago.

She isn’t okay.

I have seen Amelia in fits of rage, in moments of the highest highs, and when she is completely herself. But this version of her? This Amelia shakes me to my core.

I watch as Duncan carries her into the house; Amelia is wrapped in a blanket and shaking. My eyes meet his, and all I can see is a sheen covering rage within his honey-brown eyes. It is as if a storm is brewing within him, and those in the path of it should flee. Someone has hurt Amelia, this much I know. He’d called me from the car, asking if I was at Amelia’s and whether she'd had a first aid kit. There was no way of preparing myself for what was about to walk through that door.

Duncan places Amelia down on the kitchen island, holding her to his chest as I come closer. Part of me wishes I didn’t need to know what the blanket is hiding, but I need to know. I need to help my best friend.

“Duncan,” Amelia’s voice cracks, muffled against his jacket. “I can sit on my own.”

I watch as he pulls back, the pain flashing across his face before turning to me. ?? “We’ll need to do a rape kit.”

Fuck. A rape kit. She was just supposed to go to a meeting and then be home. She’d called, canceling dinner because of it, but I was stubborn to my own detriment, and so here I was, waiting for her.

I move closer, my hands itching to hug her but stopping at the blanket.

“Ames,” I whisper, holding my breath as she slightly turns to me.

“Hey, Parks.”

“I need to look, loves. We need to know what to tell the doctor when they examine you.”

She sighs, the movement taking what little energy she’s built. I’ve never seen her this low, this…broken.

“No,” she moans. “No doctors, no rape kit. I just want to sleep.”

Amelia keeps a physician on her payroll, but the man is older than I’d imagine she’d want…and a man. I think the only reason she is tolerating Duncan at the moment is simply because he was the safest option.

“Okay, I won’t call him yet. In the morning, though.”

Amelia makes a noise, huffing out a breath before again asking to sleep.

“You can’t sleep yet, Ames.” Duncan’s voice is soft, much like it would be if we were in bed, curled up around each other. “We have to take care of you first, then we’ll get you in bed.”

Amelia’s eyes flutter shut, the curve of her jaw tensing as she struggles to keep her emotions at bay. For as long as I’ve known her, I’veonly seen her cry once. No tears were shed when she broke her foot our senior year. Not a single tear fell when her heart was mauled by stupid boys. She didn’t even cry when her father died. Amelia Conte is a steel trap when it comes to emotions, and that steel trap is now shattering.

“What happened, Ames?” I place my hand on her shoulder, making sure to only touch the blanket so I don’t alarm her. My eyes raked over her, taking note of every bruise, every scratch marking her skin. I gently pull back the edge of the blanket. She’s naked. God. Damn. It.

“Ames. Loves. You are safe here. No one is getting past that door, I swear to you.” My voice breaks as I squat to meet her eyes. “I need you to tell me what happened at this meeting, Amelia.”

Her eyes lift to mine, the normal vibrancy dulled, and a sense of emptiness echoes in them. She pulls her lip under the tops of her teeth, winces, and releases the flesh. I watch as her fists tighten in Duncan’s shirt, knuckles white as she struggles to ground herself in reality. Her breath quickens, and she continues to stare directly at me, as if I was some source of strength. It doesn’t last long as her gaze goes blank.

She’s trapped in her own mind.

“I took my father’s seat at the table.”

My breath catches in my throat. She’d gone through with it.

“Mmmhmm.” I can’t trust myself to say much more than that.

“Do you know that despite my father being the previous Don, I am still a body to be used?” Her voice breaks as a shudder wrecks her body. “I am still nothing more than a broodmare, a hole which powerful men think is their right to take ownership of.”

Duncan’s body hardens. He knows what is going to come out of Amelia’s mouth next, and that rattles me. He is infallible, and yet what comes next is clearly gut-wrenching.

“Do you know that for two hours I lay there, my hands held tighter than I could have imagined, as I was raped and beaten and marked? That I had to prove my loyalty and this is how the men in the room deemed appropriate. I laid there, on the same table that my father had led his men at, as those same men—ones that swore…” her voice catches. What little fire there was behind it dies as she continues, “...swore to protect me, took what they thought owed.”

“Ames,” I whisper. My best friend is the strongest person I know, and they broke her. They fucking broke her.

“I know Parks. I know what I should do, but I just don’t want to. I just want to wash them off and go to sleep.”

A few minutes later, we move to the bathroom as Duncan heats up some food.

I know she just wants to sleep, but getting her clean is more important. I will honor her request of not doing a rape kit, but I refuse to let these monsters linger upon her skin. I start the shower, watching the way she clutches the blanket in an effort to hide the aftermath of what happened from me. I see the pain in her eyes, and I’m sure her entire body is one fireball of hurt.

Her eyes remain on the floor, unspoken words lingering in the air, the hurt permeating every corner. Amelia clutches the soft fabric closer to her tarnished skin, desperate for some sort of barrier to keep herself from falling into anger, into brokenness.

Running my hand over my face, I slump against the hallway wall, sliding down until I am sitting on the carpeted spot. I have never seen my best friend shattered the way she was that night. The Mafia takes everything from you and does not apologize. It is a cancer, seeping into the fabric of souls until it consumes all its tendrils touch.

Rhodes is a good man. I wanted to tell him everything last night when he called asking about Amelia. Gods, I wish I could have told him, but that would have meant betraying Ames.

I would die before that happened.