Page 43

M y body feels like I am sleeping on a pile of clouds. The bed is warm and cosy, and familiar in a way I can’t quite describe, and I feel like I could stay here forever. I try to open my eyes, but they're heavy with exhaustion and all I want to do is fall asleep. When they finally manage to flutter open, I smile at my familiar purple bedroom walls. I still remember when I picked this color out, my mom said it was too bright and ridiculous, but she didn’t have the heart to tell me no. Just like I didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was right, but it’s okay, I loved it all the same.

I can hear the gentle melody of her favorite song spilling from down the hall, and I smile into my pillow as I snuggle down into it. It feels like forever since I’ve been here and I want to hold on to this moment, to savor this feeling and remember it, but something deep inside of me doesn’t feel right. It’s like my heart feels at home, but my head is screaming at me to snap out of it. The thought has me trying to move, but I can’t.

That’s weird. Why can’t I move?

Footsteps echo as they pound up the stairs and down the hall toward me. I try to focus my gaze, but my vision is still blurred and sickness churns in the pit of my stomach, as someone pushes into my room. They walk over to my bedside table and place something heavy on top of it. A rough hand swipes down my face and I want to recoil from the touch for some reason, but I can’t.

Something’s not right.

I blink a few more times and the hand pauses, pushing my hair back away from my head. “Wakey wakey, pretty girl,” a familiar voice coos, and if I had full control of my body I would probably flinch, because that’s not the voice I expected.

It’s not my mother’s voice, yet it’s familiar, but it doesn’t make me feel better, because it’s the last voice I want to hear. He’s not supposed to be here. I’m not supposed to be here. So what the hell happened?

It’s only then that everything starts to come back to me and panic sets in. This isn’t right, I shouldn’t be here. This isn’t my home anymore.

My eyes slowly come into focus to find Ben staring down at me, with a smile I’ve never seen before, and when I flick my stare around, I find exactly what I thought. It’s my room, except it’s not my room, not anymore. The purple walls are more faded than what I remember, and my posters and pictures no longer litter the walls like they once did. I force my head to the side and find my furniture covered in dust sheets, with the exception of my bed and nightstand, and my head thuds with confusion.

“Ben?” I choke out, my throat hoarse and dry, and he smiles at me as if things between us are completely normal. “What are you doing? Why am I here?” I try to move but my limbs feel heavy and awkward, and I fight to remember how I got here.

The last thing I remember is being at the hockey game, and my eyes automatically flick down, but instead of finding Alexander’s jersey, I have been stripped down to my tank top and underwear. Bile burns the back of my throat as my eyes snap back to Ben, who is still watching me, smiling.

“You’re here because you seem to have forgotten who you belong to,” he purrs, stroking my face, and I try to snap my head away, but my body just will not do what I want it to do.

“Get off me,” I scoff, desperate for him not to touch me, but my words only have him tightening his hold on my cheeks, and I try to fight against him.

“Now now, pretty girl, let’s not fight, not when tonight is our special night,” he grits, forcing my head to the side, and I find a large vase sitting on top of my night stand filled with daisies. “We’re going to get back on track, and we’re going to do it right this time,” he adds, loosening his grip and stroking my face again. “We just have to get you clean first.”

His last words don’t register, not until he pushes off the bed and moves to my dresser against the back wall. It’s still covered in one of the dust sheets my dad placed there when I moved out, but now sitting on top of it is a large bowl and some white towels. It’s only when he reaches it and picks up one of the towels, placing it into the bowl, that I realize it’s filled with water. Once he has it soaked through, he turns and makes his way back over to me.

“You let him touch you, didn’t you, Bree?” he hisses, some anger lacing his tone, as he reaches me and forcibly parts my legs. “You that let pathetic, rich prick treat you like you were nothing but one of his whores, and now I must rid you of your transgressions.”

I will my body to move, as he brings the towel to the top of my thigh and starts wiping it down my leg, but it’s no use. Fuck. Did he drug me? Is that why I can’t move? Nausea still turns my stomach over and over, as tears gather at the back of my eyes. No, he can’t do this, not like this, not here.

I know I shouldn’t rile him up, but I know him better than he thinks, maybe if I just keep him talking then I can buy some time.

“Yeah? How many Hail Mary’s did you do after you fucked Malorie?” I ask, making him freeze in his movements, his eyes snapping up to meet mine. “How many times did you fuck her? Once, twice, a hundred?” I force out, licking my lips. “It was you who forgot who you belonged to, it was you who cheated, you who fucked my best friend,” I snap, in an attempt to stall him, watching as he starts to shake his head. “And what? You think bringing me daisies and cleansing me is going to change that?” My voice shakes as I ask him that, but I know it’s working because he pushes up off the bed.

“I made a mistake,” he yells, pacing back and forth. “God forgives me, and you will too,” he adds, moving back to the bowl and drenching the towel in water again. When he comes back to me this time, I try to move again, my legs a heavy weight, but he just presses them down and starts wiping them clean. “We are starting fresh and taking our relationship to the next level,” he insists, roughly passing the towel over my skin, and the first tear falls on my cheek at the realization of how helpless I am.

I know Alexander will be looking for me, he’s probably tearing Fairfield apart trying to find me. I know that, I know him, but he won’t look here. Why would he?

Ben continues to move back and forth, dipping the towel in lukewarm water and gliding it over my skin, and it isn’t until he lifts my hand that he pauses. I’m confused at first, wondering why he’s stopped, but then I see his focus move to my middle finger. My empty middle finger . His fingers tighten around my wrist until I gasp in pain, but it doesn’t faze him in the slightest.

“Where is your ring, Bree?” he asks carefully, his eyes slowly moving to meet mine, but I remain silent, because the look in his eyes right now is darker than I have ever seen. “Where is it?” he screams, dragging me up by my wrists and gripping me by the hair. A sharp pain spreads through my scalp, and I cry out once more. “Tell me where it is,” he spits, his breath warm on my face, and I know how this is going to end.

It’s why I smile a little, as I whisper, “The rich prick took it before I let him fuck me.” His hand pulls back and whips my cheek, sending my head to the side with the force of it. More tears spill down my face as pain ricochets through me, but I swallow down my cry. “Do you feel like a man now? Does putting your hands on me make you feel worthy?” I taunt, and he raises his hand again and I flinch back, making him freeze.

A metallic taste leaks into my mouth and I lick my lips, tracing the blood now trickling there, as his hand once again grips my cheek. “If you can be a whore for him, you can be a whore for me,” he spits, forcing his mouth against mine and kissing me roughly.

I try to fight him off but it’s no use, my body is too tired, too weak, and as he presses me down back into the bed. I pray. Not to god, but to Alexander, because I know he will come for me, it’s just going to be too late when he does.

Ben trails his mouth down my neck, licking and sucking my skin into his mouth as he goes, and nothing has ever felt more wrong. His hands roam my body, stroking my skin and spreading my legs so he can settle between them, and I let my eyes focus on a little crack in the ceiling. His touch feels nothing like Alexander's, and I can’t believe I ever let myself think I loved him, that he was the one for me.

His hands squeeze my breasts, as more sobs begin to wrack my body. “Please, Ben, don’t do this,” I beg, but his face settles into a sneer, as he pulls back and looks down at me.

“I should have done this ages ago, kept you quiet and in line like I did with Malorie. She was good for me, did as she was told, and you will too.” He unbuckles his pants, flicking open the button and sliding down the zipper as he watches me. “You let him break you in, so at least I won’t have to be gentle,” he adds, pulling out his already hard cock and fisting it at the base.

“You’re going to rot in hell for this,” I seethe, trying to force myself to relax, but Ben only laughs, jerking himself roughly.

“Then I’ll see you there, pretty girl,” he replies with glee, releasing his cock and pulling down my underwear.

Vomit floods my mouth, as more tears fall, and as he strokes himself up and down my pussy, I close my eyes, unable to watch what he is about to do.

Except before he can push forward and violate me, there is a noise. It’s quiet, but after living in my house almost my entire life, I know it means there is someone coming up the stairs. Ben doesn’t seem to notice, no, he’s too focused on what he’s going to do, pressing his cock to my entrance, and I cry out.

“Ben, stop, please,” I shout, but my pleas aren’t for Ben, they’re for him .

“You son of a bitch,” Alexander screams as he storms into the room, ripping Ben off me and throwing him to the floor, slamming his foot into his cock and making him cry out. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” he roars, just as my dad appears in the doorway, taking in the scene.

“Aubree,” he cries in relief, rushing toward me without pause.

“Dad,” I sob weakly, still unable to properly move, as he grabs one of the dust sheets from the floor and wraps it around my half-naked body, just as Nova, Archer, Daemon, and Josh all appear, taking in the scene before them.

Alexander is now on top of Ben, plowing his fists into his face over and over, and to my surprise, none of the guys do anything but watch. His hands are coated in Ben’s blood once again, and whereas last time I felt some guilt and regret for him getting hurt, now I feel nothing. Not after what he was going to do. No, now I hope he feels nothing but pain and misery for the rest of his pathetic life.

Ben’s face is covered in blood, and still Alexander doesn’t stop. No, he forces his hands around his throat, choking him, repeating the same mantra over and over again. “I’m going to fucking kill you for this,” he hisses, and his team just stand by and let him.

My dad barely pays them any attention as he lifts me into his arms, making sure I am completely covered and then carrying me toward the door. “Don’t let him kill him,” he tells the guys, pausing at their sides, and they nod, looking at me with sorrow, before my dad storms from the room.

I don’t want to leave, I want to scream at him to let me stay, that I need to get Alexander and tell him to stop, but it’s no use. I’m sobbing, my entire body shaking as the reality of what Ben almost did to me settles in my mind. He was going to rape me. My ex-boyfriend, the one I thought I loved, the one I thought loved me, was going to rape me.

We reach the bottom floor and my dad sits on the sofa, pulling back to check me over, and I turn my head to the side just in time for the contents of my stomach to empty all over the floor.

My dad doesn’t even flinch, just pulls back my hair and strokes my head as I throw up. “It’s okay, baby girl, I’ve got you, you're safe now,” he repeats like a mantra, as if he isn’t just reassuring me, but himself too, and it only makes me cry harder.

I can hear the commotion coming from upstairs, as the guys no doubt finally try to pull Alexander off of Ben and get him under control, but he fights them. “Get the fuck off me,” he shouts, and the pain in my heart intensifies even more at how this will affect him. “He’s still fucking breathing, he doesn’t deserve to fucking breathe,” he screams, as they pull him from the room still fighting. I hear what sounds like one of them slamming him against the wall and I struggle in my father’s arms.

There is more scuffling and stomping around, before Nova’s voice booms from the top of the stairs. “Alexander, enough! That’s a fucking order, go and check on your girl, we’ve got this.” My head lolls in the direction of his voice, desperate to make sure Alexander is okay. I can’t hear if he responds, but the next second there is a thunder of footsteps down the stairs before he appears at the bottom, his eyes frantic, his hands bloody.

“Alexander,” I gasp, fresh tears falling, and my dad maneuvers us away from where I threw up, as Alexander rushes to us and drops to his knees before us.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asks, his blood-stained hands once again cupping my cheeks, just like that night in his room.

“I am now,” I nod, crying even harder than before, and he drops his head to mine and cries with me.

“I’m so fucking sorry, baby, I’m sorry I wasn’t there, I’m so fucking sorry,” he repeats over and over, as Daemon and Josh appear behind him, and my hands are heavy as I try to reach out to him.

“You couldn’t have stopped him, it was my fault, you told me not to go anywhere alone,” I start, but he’s already pulling back and shaking his head.

“This is not your fucking fault,” he seethes, the rage still clinging to him fiercely, and fresh tears burn at the back of my eyes, as he strokes back my hair, just like my dad just did. “Baby, I need to ask you something, and I need you to tell me the truth, okay?” he asks, and I nod my head, knowing what the question is going to be. “Did he touch you? Did that son of a bitch rape you?”

My dad flinches beneath me at this question, but I’m already shaking my head. “No, it didn’t get that far, you got here just in time,” I tell him softly, swallowing the bile in my throat, and I thought my answer would bring him some relief, but it doesn’t dim the anger in his eyes.

“We need the police here, now,” my father demands, and Alexander looks between me and him, before he nods firmly.

“Actually, Coach,” Josh starts, stepping forward. “I already called someone.”

Before anyone can respond there is a sharp knock on the door, and Josh smiles grimly, before excusing himself to answer the door.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he greets them, stepping aside to let them in, and I note Daemon takes a subtle step toward us, flanking Alexander’s back, putting himself between us and whomever is coming in.

I expect some kind of uniformed officers or detectives of some kind, but instead, in walks a beautiful blond woman who can’t be much older than I am, followed by two tall blond men around the same age as her. She doesn’t look like an officer, in fact, none of them do, yet still they have an aura of superiority about them. They are completely calm as they assess the situation, the girl's eyes only lingering for a fraction of a second on me, her lip curling in distaste, before she turns back to Josh.

One of the men, the one wearing glasses, steps up to him and nods. “It’s good you called.” His eyes meet mine and there is a dark, soulless look in them as he takes me in. One that tells me he has seen things much worse than what has happened here today.

I’m completely confused, but before I can say anything, Alexander is rising to his feet, stepping closer to me and glaring at her. “You’re Elle King,” he states matter of factly, and she meets his stare with an amused look.

“Very good, Alexander Reign,” she replies, her voice like an angel of death, both sweet and full of warning at the same time.

“Who the hell are you and what the fuck are you doing here?” My dad snaps, curling his arms around me protectively, and the other blond guy tracks his fatherly gesture, and I swear a ghost of a smile flashes across his mouth, but it’s gone so fast that I can’t be sure.

“We’re here to deal with your situation,” she replies easily with a gentle smile, almost as if she has done this kind of thing before. “Where is he?” she adds, her lip once again curling in distaste at her question.

“He’s upstairs with our captain,” Josh replies, and the girl, Elle, doesn’t even turn to the men at her side when she nods her head.

The two of them move in unison, stalking around her and heading up the stairs without a word, and it only adds to my confusion.

“There’s a car waiting for you outside, it will take you to a private medical facility so you can be checked over,” Elle states, turning toward me fully for the first time, before flicking her focus to my dad. “Once we have removed him from the house, we’ll have someone come in and clean and fit it with a new security system. You don’t need to worry about anything, we will take care of it all, and I promise he will never come near your daughter again.”

My dad’s grip is still steel tight around me as he ingests her words, before he asks, “And why should we trust you?”

I see Josh open his mouth to cut in, but Elle steps forward, like a queen ready to address her court as she replies, “Because I was the girl in the sheet once, I know what it does to you, and now I do everything in my power to ensure others don’t feel the same.”

“And what kind of power is that?” Daemon spits, still standing protectively in front of us, and fresh tears spill on my cheeks, yet Elle isn’t deterred by his question.

In fact, she smiles freely, as she gives him a once over, before she replies, “The kind that even Jasper Forbes is afraid of.”

Daemon flinches ever so slightly. “You know my brother?”

Elle nods. “I work closely with the Hallowed Crows, so we’ve crossed paths,” is all she says by way of explanation, just as Archer comes down the stairs, Nova hot on his heels.

“Who are the two psycho hotties upstairs?” he asks, and for the first time since I opened my eyes here, I smile a little, as Daemon scoffs at his words.

“That’s Lincoln Blackwell and Asher Donovan,” Josh answers him, his eyes still on my dad, as he takes a step toward us. “You can trust them, Coach, I promise, they helped me with my dad,” he adds, holding his stare, and I’m not really sure what that means.

I don’t know much about the former mayor of Fairfield, but his words have my dad relaxing a little, as he looks down at me in question. “What do you want to do, baby girl?” he asks, searching my stare, and I wish that being here, in this house with him again, was for a happier reason, but still I force a smile, as tears cascade down my face.

“Let them deal with it, Dad, I just want to go home,” I croak, and his eyes fill with emotion as he nods in agreement.

Alexander is back at my side in an instant, pulling me into his arms, ensuring I stay wrapped up, sharing a look with my dad, who surprisingly lets me fully go. “Come on, Trouble, let's get out of here.”

I nestle my head into his chest, breathing him in, knowing that no matter what I’ll be safe now. He has me, my dad has me, their team has me, and even with the tears on my face I smile up at him.

“Thanks for saving me, Prince Charming, I knew you would.”