20. Savanna #2
My shirt rose while I was struggling, and when he drags his fingers along my bare skin, I start to cry harder because this is it.
There’s no stopping what’s about to happen, and the thought of anyone else being inside me makes me sick.
I don’t want this. I don’t want any part of this bastard touching me, and yet there’s nothing I can do to stop it.
Sobs rack my body. I hate how powerless and alone I feel, and I really hate that all I can do about it is cry.
I have no way to protect myself, and when he starts to unbutton my jeans, I scream as loudly as I can, putting everything I have into it.
The rawness of it and the primal anger that comes rushing out of me is enough to make him widen his eyes and pause, but then he grins and laughs off all the rage I feel, like it’s nothing more than a minor nuisance and not him killing a deep part of myself that will never fully heal.
“I knew you’d be a bit wild, Savanna. God, I bet you’re a good fuck.”
I taste bile in the back of my throat at his obvious arousal.
I’m so disgusted and horrified that it takes me a second to notice the slight movement behind him.
Cupid hadn’t shut the door when he’d come in, and when it opens wider and I see Niki step in, gun drawn and aimed right at the back of Cupid’s head, I know I must be hallucinating.
“Niki,” I whisper right before his grey eyes meet mine.
“Don’t fucking say his name!” Cupid yells at me while tugging my zipper down.
I laugh out of pure relief and say, “He’s going to kill you.”
“Let him fucking try,” he growls as he starts to roughly yank my pants down.
He’s barely touched me before Niki says, “Get your fucking hands off her.”
Cupid freezes, eyes widening in shock before Niki lunges.
Instead of using the gun, he uses his fists, punching him so fast and so hard that Cupid doesn’t have a chance in hell of winning this.
The room is filled with grunts of pain and the sickening sound of flesh hitting flesh.
Soon, ragged screams replace the grunts, and then those disappear and turn into mumbled whimpers that make me wish I could plug my ears because as much as I hated him and wanted him dead, the noises coming from his body are making me queasy.
“Niki,” I yell, trying to reach him, knowing he’s lost in a rage. We’ve all hit our breaking point, but I need him, and whatever is left of Cupid can’t be much. There’s no surviving the beating he’s getting.
The overwhelming urge to be free of these restraints has me yelling his name again. With my voice hoarse and pleading, I add, “Please help me.”
Those three words cut through the anger he’s lost in.
His body stills, chest heaving from the exertion of beating a man to death, sweat on his brow and hands that are covered in blood, but when his eyes meet mine, I see how haunted he is by everything that’s happened.
He’s not just in a rage. He’s a man who’s barely hanging on to who he is.
I whisper his name and then start to cry right as Danil comes running into the room, followed by Damien. Several other members of his family step in, and when I look back over at Niki, he rushes to my side, pushing my shirt down and fixing my pants before he cups my face and very gently kisses me.
“I’m so sorry.” He breathes the words against my lips, so soft I can barely hear them, but the sorrow in them is unmistakable.
Pulling back, he runs his eyes over me, visibly wincing when he sees the raw skin around my wrists, the bruises that I’m sure are forming on my skin, and the dried blood that still covers my mouth.
His jaw tightens before he turns around to search for the handcuff key. Danil’s already pulling it from Cupid’s back pocket and handing it to his son. He looks over at me and softly pats my foot.
“It’s good to have you back, Sav,” he says. “We got here as soon as we could.”
“I know you did,” I tell him. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course we came,” Damien says. “Niki’s been looking for you nonstop.”
I look over at Niki, watching the gentle way he’s handling my hands as he uncuffs them. The movements so at odds with how Cupid had just been touching me.
“Still took too long,” I hear Niki mutter.
I’m about to tell him that it’s okay, that he saved me, but then he’s unhooking my hands and I hiss out a breath when pain explodes down my arm. I hadn’t realized how stiff I’d become, and the rush of blood is a pain I hadn’t been expecting.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Van.” He starts to slowly rub feeling back into my limbs, and the blood on his hands is impossible to ignore. I keep staring at it, noticing how swollen his knuckles already are.
So far I’ve avoided looking at the dead man on the floor, but curiosity gets the better of me, and when I look over, I immediately wish I hadn’t.
The man I knew as Dr. Ellison is no more.
His face is unrecognizable. Teeth are busted out or bent crooked, his nose is completely smashed in, and there’s so much blood it’s puddling on the floor.
I hear footsteps and look up to see Sasha.
He stands near the body, calmly looking it over.
The corner of his mouth lifts just enough to let me know he’s amused, and then he’s giving Niki a pat on the back and nodding at me.
“Cyn will be thrilled to know you’re okay,” he says.
“I need to let your parents know, too,” Niki says.
“My parents know?” I ask.
He works on the cuffs around my ankles and says, “It’s a long story. I’ll explain it all later, okay?”
I nod, but then quickly look up at his family. “There’s another woman,” I say. “She’s blonde, my age,” I pause before adding, “he raped her. We need to get her out of here.”
“There’s no one else here,” Matvey says from the door. “We’ve checked the entire building.”
My heart breaks for the woman whose name I don’t even know, and when I start to cry again, Niki wraps his arms around me and kisses my head.
“We’ll figure things out later, baby, but right now I need to get you out of this place.
I can’t stand you being here for another second.
” He picks me up, cradling me against his chest, and when I wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, I swear I feel every part of his body relax a little bit.
“What about the body?” I ask as he carries me from the room that I’m sure I’ll have nightmares of for the rest of my life.
“Don’t worry about that,” he says. “My family will take care of it. You don’t need to worry about anything ever again.”
Once we’re outside, I squeeze my eyes shut at the blinding light and bury my face in his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him.
I cling to him even tighter, tears streaming down my face while my body starts to shake.
I was so scared I’d never see him again, never feel his arms around me or hear his voice.
“I knew you’d find me,” I whisper, not adding that I’d been terrified I wouldn’t be alive to see it. I hold him tighter. “I knew you’d never stop looking for me.”
I feel a shudder run through his body before he lets out a shaky breath. I cup the back of his head and ask, “Are you okay?”
The ragged, half-laugh, half-sob that comes out of him breaks my heart.
He stays silent, carrying me to a waiting SUV, and when we’re inside, he keeps me in his lap while his cousins pile in and one of them starts driving.
It’s quiet, and I don’t break the silence.
I also don’t let go of him. My tight grip never falters, and I’m convinced I’ll never be able to let go of him again.
His hand rubs slow circles along my back while my fingers curl into his hair.
I’m filthy and in desperate need of a bath, but I don’t care.
The last thing I want is distance from him.
I need to feel his body, to feel his heart beating against mine, to know I’m safe and to know that nothing can hurt me.
I feel the SUV stop, but I don’t turn my head or make any attempt to move and neither does Niki. Instead, I hear him say, “We’ll be there in a minute.”
His cousins leave, giving us some privacy, and as soon as the doors shut, Niki cups the back of my head. I hiss out a breath when he hits the tender bump I still have.
He jerks his hand away. “I’m sorry, Van,” he says, and then he’s cupping my face and resting his forehead against mine. “I’m so fucking sorry.”
The distraught sound of his voice has me shaking my head. “You found me. You don’t have anything to be sorry about. This wasn’t your fault.”
“I drove you to him, watched you walk right into that fucking building, completely oblivious to the monster who was waiting for you. I fucked up, and I failed you.”
“You found me,” I correct. “You saved me.”
He closes his eyes, refusing to let me take away the guilt he feels, and when I see a tear fall down his cheek, I quickly brush it away.
“That wasn’t me on the bed. He didn’t hurt me like that,” I try to tell him, but he just shakes his head again. When he opens his grey eyes, the pain in them has my own tearing up again.
“I know. I thought it was, at first.” The memory of what he’d seen has tears falling down faster than I can catch them.
“I thought it was you. I thought I was watching him rape you. I could hear you screaming, and I couldn’t get to you.
I couldn’t help you. I’ve never felt so powerless in my life, Van.
I’ve never hated myself so much as in that moment. ”
“It wasn’t me,” I tell him again. “He had tape over her mouth so all you could hear was me. I had no idea it was being filmed or I would’ve told you I was okay. I’m so sorry.”
He lets out a ragged breath. “Please stop saying that. You don’t apologize to me. That’s not how this works. You don’t have anything to be sorry about, not about this, not about anything.”
Refusing to accept that, I say, “I’m sorry for the pain you were in. It must’ve been hell for you, and I’m sorry for that.”