18. Bay
EIGHTEEN
bay
“Can I get you some coffee, Bay? You’re all bundled up there, you appear cold.”
I flick my gaze to Emilio, who’s sitting at the head of the table for the Friday night dinner I promised I’d attend moving forward with our arrangement.
He looks at me expectedly, pending my answer when everything in me screams to get the hell out of here. I’ve been freezing for hours because it was just hours ago that I was floating like a deflated bobber that couldn’t stay afloat if its life depended on it.
I mentally can’t stop going back to where the water would take me under while Torin held my life literally in his hands.
I didn’t believe him capable, which was a huge mistake on my part. I underestimated Torin Wildes, yet again, which makes me leery of Emilio and what he might know.
You thought you were going to up and leave me, Wildfire?
How does he know?
“Bay?”
My nostrils flare a bit because I want Emilio to leave me alone, but I give him a curt nod so he fucks off and gets me something warm to drink.
Emilio calls one of the staff to the table and orders my coffee while I feel the heaviness of Ramsey’s stare from the other side of him.
“So, Bay, how’s married life?”
I’m really not in the fucking mood.
I’m tired, and if I’m being completely honest, I’m scared.
If Torin is capable of my demise, I’m not sure if that cord will ever snap again to where maybe one day he succeeds for real.
I don’t know how to tell Levi about this. I’m fully aware I have to, but I’m cognizant of what he’ll do.
He’ll leave a blood trail.
And it’ll be so long that it’s only going to cause more chaos when we’re trying to leave it all behind.
“Quiet,” I deadpan, dragging my attention to Ramsey.
He’s in a white button-up shirt, his suit jacket draped on the chair behind him as he nurses a glass of clear liquid in his hand. He stares at me like he’s still trying to figure out how I really feel about it.
At one point, I may have said he was more threatening than Torin.
I’m retracting that comment.
Baby Wildes knew I couldn’t swim and put me on a fucking boat just to drive me into the middle of nowhere. Where my family would never find me.
Did he even think about what would happen to my sisters?
Of course, he did. He was the one who tore Mae and Ellie away.
“Have you consummated the marriage?”
Now, honestly, what kind of stupid-ass comment is that? In the twenty-first century, who even fucking says that?
“Ramsey,” Emilio chides, his voice low and warning. “Be respectful to your sister.”
I cease the immediate need to roll my eyes. I don’t see how Emilio doesn’t realize all of this is going to be fake.
“I just wanted to make sure Ozzy was happy,” Ramsey concedes gently, giving his cousin a sparing glance. “Are you happy, Oz? She’s beautiful, but she’s going to be a handful.”
Um, no. That starring role goes to your brother.
“Leave her alone,” I hear Ozzy mutter to my right, tucked in between me and Emilio alongside the table.
I’d thank him, but I don’t care what Ramsey thinks, wants, or wishes to comment on.
“There you go,” Ramsey says haughtily with a chuckle that doesn’t sound joyous. “We just want to make sure you can handle her, cousin.”
“If not, we can help him.” Just the sheer sound of his voice sends my body into full panic and defense mode. My arms wrap around my middle as I stare at Emilio’s white dinner plate to keep myself grounded on something other than the force that just walked in the room. “She likes to be riled up a little bit.”
“Torin,” Emilio confirms as if my brain needs to have confirmation that he is truly in the same room with me. “I thought you had plans.”
“Cancelled them,” he replies flatly as the air cracks with instability. His voice sounds closer, and my chest heaves quicker breaths as I attempt to calm myself.
I’m surrounded by men who might kill me. I have no one here.
The chair to my left screeches in warning of Torin’s seating choice, sending my skin prickling in unwanted anticipation of what he’s going to do.
What he has planned and how he’s going to hurt me next.
“Sweet Bay Astor,” Torin coos at my side, his tone forcefully honeyed and counterfeit. “I wouldn’t miss spending time with my cousin and his new wife.”
“I have champagne ready after dinner,” Emilio announces. “To celebrate the union of our two families.”
“That sounds great, Dad,” Torin says so simply and casually it almost makes me reevaluate my mental state. As if I’m imagining everything that happened and it was one of those seemingly real-life nightmares.
But it was real.
I can still feel the frigidness of the water. The way it licked up my spine and taunted me with death. How it filled my lungs and wouldn’t let me breathe.
“I missed you.” The sound of Torin’s voice so close to my ear makes me jolt, but his large palm then appears promptly on my upper thigh, keeping me from shooting up and knocking into the table.
I’ve felt this sort of fear before.
The teeter-tottering unknown of if I’m going to die or not.
Judah .
The way his large hand wrapped around my throat to keep all the air from entering my lungs. His weight on top of me, pushing me into the dirt in the middle of the woods.
Except with Torin, there is no remorse in his light brown eyes, not like Judah. At least Judah apologized for what he was about to do.
But not once did Baby Wildes say a thing other than threats to keep away from his family.
His brothers.
One of whom I’m married to.
“You’re shaking,” Torin says flatly as if I didn’t know. As if I haven’t been all day.
Try hiding that from Levi, telling him a million times over that I was just cold and nothing more.
Everything was fucking great.
“Get the fuck away from me,” I leer under my breath before the pads of Torin’s fingers dig into my jeans.
“Like what you’re doing right now?” he disputes, his cautionary tale squirming its way into my self-control. His warning, as he fucked me, still blaring in my ears as the only tip-off that shit will get worse if I don’t back off. “I thought I told you to stay away from my brothers? And what would happen?—”
“Torin, would you like a drink? Bourbon or whiskey?”
I’ve never been so grateful for Emilio’s interjection.
His son removes his hand from my body and leisurely leans back in his chair, backing off me for a second to answer yes to his father’s drink request.
A cup of steaming hot coffee is then placed in front of me by one of the maids, and I thank her, needing a distraction and something to heat me up from the inside.
“Bay, I hope you like pasta,” Emilio announces, sounding proud of the dinner selection. “I thought it would be something nice since we men only eat meat and potatoes most of the time.”
I nod, and Torin chuckles, pleased I’m so fucking shaken at his presence that I’m no longer able to just be or speak.
“It seems to be a good last dinner,” Torin chimes in under his breath. “Especially if you decide to continue being here.”
“We haven’t had a woman in the same room with us in forever,” my sperm donor mentions to the room. “It’s good to be able to feed a woman and get us to eat something different.”
My God, shut the fuck up.
“I’m extremely pleased that you’re here, Bay.” I feel his blue eyes fall upon me, and I take the opportunity to meet them just to show I’m physically present or that I’m listening. He gives me what seems like a genuine smile. “If these little shits give you trouble, you just let me know.”
I recognize the incandescent lure of Torin before he even speaks. The melon mixed with cedar scent wafting closer to me as if to asphyxiate me again.
“Yeah, baby…” His sentiment delves into the wicked villain that he is. “Run to Daddy whenever we pick on you.”
What he means is, piss me off more, and we’ll move this death sentence along faster .
“Starting already, Torin?”
Torin’s lips smirk with his next words, self-assurance radiates off him. He’s back to his Pretty Boy vibes, but this time he has me down his sight as his target, and he doesn’t want to let go.
“Nah, Daddy-O,” Torin replies. “Just letting her know how things are done around here. You take your latte at seven, you smoke in the evenings. You hate anything chocolate, and we’re concerned about you with that feat.”
Emilio rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his bourbon, taking his analysis off us, and that’s when Torin’s chest finds my bicep.
“You wanna go up to my old room?”
“No,” I say quickly, rolling my shoulders to get him away from me.
“Why not?” He actually sounds confused as fuck. “I can warm you up. You’re freezing. I mean, you are, but I can feel the coolness of your skin from here, Wildfire.”
My eyes drop to the table, where they latch onto the pristinely shined butter knife along the side of my plate.
It won’t do much, if anything at all.
I just need him away from me.
I can’t listen to his voice. The way his words mix and mingle with other comments he used to tell me. How he used to speak to me like he gave a shit. The sweet, vulnerable words that used to make me warm and fuzzy inside.
Now, I feel cold and dead.
He literally dropped me in the ocean to eliminate that warmth from my body, leaving behind an iceberg of barren emotions of fear, hopelessness, and unease.
I went from believing Torin and I had something, that we might be able to overcome all of this, but now…there are too many of them.
They’re fucking everywhere.
“Let me fuck you again, Bay,” Torin whispers at the back of my ear. “My warm lips all over this beautiful body. Maybe I can keep taking from you like you did Judah. Maybe I can live through him and give him some sort of satisfaction that you really weren’t worth the trouble. Wouldn’t you like to show him that? Show me that? Maybe it’ll help you out in the long run. There’s a really good possibility I’ll grow so fucking tired of you that I’ll either kill you on the spot or just throw you away like the South Shore slut you are.”
Like the South Shore slut you are.
That’s entered my thoughts before. I’ve had him and Reeve at the same time. I’ve made out with Cairo, and now I’m married to Ozzy. I’m just riding the carousel of doing something with all these men where I’m really starting to feel like a whore.
A whore who’s going to find the strength to make Pretty Boy cry on his knees for me.
I’m suddenly nudged then, my attention captured to my right, where Ozzy patiently sits and—honestly—I kinda forgot he was there for a while.
He’s so fucking quiet, and cryptic and distant.
He should stay that way.
Stay far away from all this.
I hit upon lucid blue eyes and dark features. The mysterious vibe that illuminates over him and never ever does he give anything away.
I wait expectantly for him to speak or do something, and when he rises to his feet, he moves and gestures for me to take his chair…away from Torin.
Without hesitation, I accept his offer, not giving a shit how it makes me look to Baby Wildes because I need distance from him to get through this dinner. To stay focused on why I’m here in the first place.
“Always the motherfuckin’ hero, Oz,” Torin leers low and deep in his chest, but he doesn’t say any more.
Actually, he doesn’t say fucking shit for the rest of the dinner.
Emilio asks me about school, to which I tell him bits and pieces. I lie and tell him my plans for next semester, even though I won’t be here.
Because we still have to leave.
Ramsey listens and comments here and there, and Ozzy barely eats. I steal glances at him, but he doesn’t look at me again. He just acts like a human wall to the man who almost wasted me earlier today.
I can deal with it when Ozzy is blocking me from the man who almost ended my life.
I want Levi.
He’s the only fucking person who’s going to calm me and give me the strength to continue without reservation of what I used to feel.
For any of them.