Page 25 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Liam

I lied.

I can’t go the night without touching her.

I can’t let her fall asleep in her clothes.

I slip off her heels, then manage to get the dress off of her.

I lay it over the chair, then pull the covers over her.

I can’t resist pressing a kiss to her forehead, then lay on the bed next to her, above the covers.

I turn on my side and watch her sleep. Her cheeks are flushed.

.. Her lips slightly parted... She has a hand tucked under her cheek and her breathing is even.

It takes me what feels like hours to fall asleep, despite the whiskey kicking about in my system.

The dreams come then—first the low banging, then the vibrations grow in intensity.

Thump-thump-thump. The beats grow bigger, heavier, faster.

Each strike seems to cut through my head, through my blood.

My nerve endings seem to short-circuit. My brain cells protest. The backs of my eyeballs hurt.

My scalp feels too tight. A cold sensation grips my arms and legs.

I stare into the eyes of the bastard, which is the only part of him visible in the mask he’s wearing.

"I’m going to teach you a lesson for sticking your nose where you don’t belong. You shouldn’t have come looking for your brother, boy. Now I’m going to have to teach you a lesson."

He backhands me, and even though I’m braced for it, my entire body seems to seize with pain.

Blood trickles from my nose. My teeth ache.

The pounding of the death metal music grows even more intense.

THUMP-THUMP-THUMP. The beats seem to ricochet around my brain.

The pressure builds in my chest; the heaviness grows in my stomach until it feels like I’ve swallowed a stone.

And the agony, the white-hot, skin-flaying agony grips me, pours into my cells, fills every crevice of my body until I’m one giant ball of misery.

It feels like someone has pulled the nails out of my fingers one by one and thrown salt in my wound.

I begin to cry, huge gasping tears that pour down my cheeks.

It hurts; it hurts so much. I can’t stand this noise.

Someone turn off the music, please. Please.

I’ll do anything. Anything. I can’t take this anymore. Please.

"Liam!"

I can’t. I’m going to die if I stay here for a second more.

"Liam!" Cold water splashes across my face. I gasp, open my eyes, and find her staring down at me.

"Liam, are you okay?" she cries.

I blink the water from my eyes, take in her pale features.

Her lips are parted. Her chest rises and falls as if she just ran a marathon.

Or witnessed a man losing his mind. In one swoop I grab her shoulder and flip her so she’s under me.

The empty glass—the contents of which I assume she poured on me—slips from her fingers and rolls off the bed and onto the carpet with a soft thunk.

"Liam?" She cups my cheek and I wince.

"What is it?" she asks. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing major. It’s nothing like what happened to my brother and his friends when they were kidnapped."

"Yet, it causes you nightmares so many years later..."

I swallow. Then lower my nose to the curve of where her neck meets her shoulder. The lush notes of violets and peaches engulf me, and I’m instantly hard. I raise my head and peer into those baby blues. "Why do I have such a hard time resisting you?"

"I imagine it’s the same reason I’m unable to resist you."

She reaches up to touch me again, but I lock my fingers around her wrist and shove it up and over her head.

"When my younger brother was taken, I couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

I felt responsible for him. I felt so guilty that I hadn’t been around to protect my little brother when he needed me most. So, I went in search of him. "

She tilts her head. "I know Weston and his friends were kidnapped and later rescued by the police—"

"After nearly a month. It’s why the seven of them are such good friends. In retrospect, it’s a miracle none of them became criminals or turned to addiction to deal with the trauma. They were lucky."

"Unlike you?"

I push off of her and sit on the edge of the bed. "I wasn’t kidnapped, if that’s what you are asking."

"But something did happen to you."

I ball my fingers into fists. Why am I telling her this now? It’s something I’ve never wanted to share with anyone else. Why do I feel the need to finally get this off my chest? Today, the day of my wedding—which somehow, doesn’t feel as fake as it should?

"I found where they were, but before I could get to them, I was discovered."

She gasps. "What did they do to you?"

"They took me prisoner. I heard the men joking that they had one more pawn to bargain with. They didn’t keep me with the rest of the Seven, though I assume they kept me somewhere close by. I think they watched too many Hollywood movies; they tortured me day and night."

She gulps. "What did they do?"

"They played fucking death-metal music. Played it for an hour on then off, on then off. It was so much worse when they switched if off. I’d barely start to fall asleep when it would start up again.

They kept me in an unrelenting state of wakefulness and anticipation.

After a while, I could barely form thoughts and lost track of time.

They tied me to a chair, and sometimes it felt like they didn’t give me food or drink for days.

And if I asked for anything, they laughed.

The worst, though, was when they’d pretend they’d be right back with something, but I wouldn’t see them again for hours.

And whoever came in next was empty-handed.

They couldn’t make up their minds if they wanted to kill me or let me live. "

"So how did you…"

"Escape?"

She nods.

"You sure you want to hear this?"

I sense her looking at me, but don’t meet her eyes.

"Once you hear it, there’s no going back."

She swallows. "Yes. Tell me, Liam."

I rise to my feet and begin to pace. The silence stretches.

I head to the window and look out. It’s not completely dark, but it’s not yet dawn.

The silver on the horizon indicates the sun will be rising soon.

I push up the window pane, lean out and take huge gasps of air.

By the time I turn to her, I’m almost in control.

"One of them was sweet on me. He was always touching me and complimenting me. Asking me about myself. Bringing me food when it seemed like the others had forgotten about me. He told me if I did what he asked of me, he’d eventually set me free."

"What" —she rises to her feet and walks toward me—"what did he ask of you?"

My lips twist. "What do you think?"

"Tell me." She takes one of my hands between both of hers. "Please, Liam, tell me."

I pull my hand away from her, then walk to the center of the room.

"It started with him taking me out of the room. He’d allow me to shower, provided he could watch.

Not that I cared. After days of pissing and shitting myself, I couldn’t wait to get clean.

He even brought clean clothes for me. Then he’d feed me, and by that, I mean he actually put the food in my mouth and wouldn’t allow me to do it myself.

I was ravenous, so I didn’t care. Then it was back to the room and more of that infernal noise.

" I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "This went on for days. At first, I was just happy to be out of the room. I didn’t care what he did to me.

But soon, he insisted on bathing me, touching me subtly at first, then more overtly.

I could tell the motherfucker was getting aroused, but I also knew if I protested, he would shut me back in that room with the noise.

So, I stayed quiet and bore it. All the while, I was biding my time.

Then he took it up a notch higher. He wanted me to touch him.

When I refused, he said I had a choice. Either I touch him or—"

"Or?" Her voice is soft. "What did he do to you, Liam?"

I take in a deep breath. "Or I allow him to electrocute me."

"Electrocute?" I sense her stiffen. "You mean—"

"I mean, erotic electrostimulation or E-Stim, where electricity is used to arouse a person."

There’s silence. I’m sure I’ve shocked her.

Pun intended. When I’m unable to bear it any further, I glance over my shoulder to find her looking at me with an expression of such empathy that my throat closes.

That heavy weight in my stomach where it feels like I’ve swallowed a ten-ton-truck is back—that damn weight I’ve carried around so often in my life since the incident.

I walk back to the bed, sink onto it, and sigh.

"So, I let him do it. I didn’t want to touch him, so I let him stimulate me with electricity. To my absolute horror, I found it turned me on. Bastard started me off on small doses, then higher ones, training me to get an erection and come on command. And all along, he watched me and jerked off."

Her voice cracks, “I’m so sorry, Liam.” I shrug my shoulders, but she continues, "So, he never forced you..."

I shake my head. "Not until the day I’d finally had enough and refused to cooperate. He seemed to lose his temper and slapped me. I fought him back, but of course, I was barely a man, and he was stronger. He overcame me, and began to choke me. I panicked.