Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
SPENCER
T he cry that releases from my throat embodies every moment that I conceded. Every time I did as someone else wanted, and every time I put someone else’s needs and desires above my own. All my anger at those who pushed me around, all the anger I have with myself, is finally released from its suppression.
I launch myself toward the men who I both want and despise at the moment. I use the back of the couch to jump to Rio who is standing right there. My legs wrap around Rio’s head as I whip my weight around and take us to the floor. We land with Rio on his back and my knees on either side of his head.
Rio stares up at the apex of my thighs. “Shit, Baby, if you wanted my face buried between your thighs, all you had to do was ask.”
My right fist aims for his head, but a strong ivory hand wraps around my wrist. “Now, now, this is no way to treat your boyfriends.”
The feel of his hand on my skin makes my panties uncomfortably wet.
Not. Now.
“Fuck off!” I grab Zane’s wrist with my free hand and twist it to an uncomfortable angle, then roll, bringing him to the ground as well.
We all scramble to our feet and face each other. This time I run for Zane and aim a few blows at this torso. He dodges and blocks each punch. When he strikes, he aims to grab my wrists. I move out of his range, and my back runs into another body.
Rio.
His thick, inked arms wrap around me, trapping my arms. His body covering mine sends a jolt of need to my clit.
Dammit! They’ve turned me into a sex-crazed woman.
I widen my stance and drop my weight, causing Rio to have to lean forward. Stepping to the side, I wrap my leg around the back of his and push back with my upper half while kicking out my leg. We fall backward to the floor, and I bring my elbow down on his stomach.
The air in Rio’s lungs rushes out, then he rolls on top of me, but before he can trap me underneath his body, I lean forward and lace my fingers together behind his neck. When I throw my weight back down, I thrust my hips upward and send him rolling over my shoulder.
I jump back up to my feet, positioned with my back to the front door. If I don’t choose them, then now is my time to go—this is my opportunity.
But once again, my feet don’t move.
Fucking hell.
I guess this is my answer.
It always was.
Damn Snarky Spencer.
“You never should’ve pushed me to tell you something I wasn’t ready to tell you.”
Zane shakes his head. “You could have told us from the beginning. Did you think we’d think less of you? Think of you as weak?”
I bite my lip.
“You’re the strongest person I know, Angel. To live with that fear, that memory, every day and still choose to make a life and live . . . I’m in awe of you.”
A mewl slips free.
Damn Zane and his beautiful words.
Rio takes a few steps towards me. “Spencer, we’re here. We weren’t there before, when you had to deal with this all on your own, but you’re not alone anymore. We’re here, and we aren’t going anywhere.”
It’s like they can see into my mind and are addressing the list of insecurities and fears that have been swirling around in there for years.
Why do these men have to set my body on fire and melt my heart at the same time?
Zane steps towards me now. “I know what it’s like to be afraid every day; to worry in every situation what might happen. To want to run at every turn but have that thing, or that someone, that holds you back.”
Rio holds a cautioning hand out. “Z . . .”
“Total honesty, right?”
Rio nods and gives Zane an encouraging look.
Shit. I don’t know if I’m ready to hear this. But this isn’t about me, it’s about Zane. Another man who has been strong for me, and he deserves the same in return.
“I grew up in the foster system in New Jersey. My foster parents, Teresa and Michael, never should’ve been approved to foster children. They were evil. They would lock the pantry and fridge—only giving my foster sister, Sarah, and I food when we were ‘good.’” He flexes his hands and continues. “And they had friends who liked young children. Their friends would pay them to spend time with Sarah and I.”
My lips tremble and my hand covers my mouth.
“They had one who called me his favorite. He’d come over, and they’d lock me in my room with him. At first, we’d just play games. Then the games became . . . different.”
My head shakes rapidly.
“I know you’ve wondered why I couldn’t handle your hands on my back that night, but you’ve been too shy or kind to ask.”
I force my voice to come out normal and not give away that I’m barely keeping it together. “You don’t have to tell me, Zane.”
“I want to.” He swallows and blinks a few times. “He used to force me onto my stomach and hold me down. He was bigger and stronger, so it didn’t matter how much I fought. He always got what he wanted in the end.”
“Zane.” My voice breaks.
Zane lets out an angry laugh. “I wanted to run away so many times. I could have done it and survived, but I couldn’t leave Sarah. She was so young and so pure, there’s no way I could have ever left her in that house.”
I feel pieces of my heart breaking with every word from Zane’s mouth. What he’s been through . . . no child should have to endure.
“Z, you’re not to blame for?—”
“I know!” Zane takes a deep breath. “I know that. I wasn’t even ten years old when Sarah died. One of Michael’s coworkers got a little too rough with Sarah one night. The asshole didn’t realize she couldn’t breathe. I tried calling nine-one-one, but Teresa told them I was just causing trouble, and they left. She hit me so hard that I blacked out.”
My vision blurs, and my cheeks suddenly have tear streaks.
“I packed my backpack full of food that I stole from the kitchen and ran as soon as I woke up. When I was caught, I was placed in a different home. Teresa and Michael claimed that Sarah had run away too. No one believed me when I tried to tell them what happened.”
No one? Not a single adult in his life would listen? All these people were supposed to protect him, love him. They let him down in the worst way. They hurt him and used him. The system that was set up to keep him safe failed.
My breathing grows ragged as my stomach clenches with the force of my restraint. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so much in my life. I want to make Zane’s foster parents hurt the way they hurt him. I want them to know what it’s like to feel small and powerless.
“Are . . . did they . . . Teresa and Michael . . . do they still have kids?” My hands shake as I struggle for the right words.
Zane gives me a sympathetic smile. “No, Angel. They’re not foster parents anymore. They’re not anything anymore.”
I scrunch my eyebrows. “But . . .”
“I killed them. It took me years to face them again, but when I did, they didn’t survive. I killed them, and I’ve killed others like them. I’ve seen too much to feel sorry for my actions, Spencer. I’ll never apologize for killing people like that. Teresa and Michael may not have touched me, but what they did enabled those bastards to do it—to take people and sell them. I’m not sorry I put them down like the animals they were. We are the Devils of New York—the few who fight back.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. These men—my men; my boyfriends— they’re brave. I shouldn’t be surprised that they have the courage to face those who have caused them and others pain.
“I’m so sorry. Can I?—”
“Yes, Angel. Of course.”
I run at Zane and jump into his arms. He catches me as I wrap my arms and legs around him, enveloping him in comfort and love.
Zane leans his head back to look at my face. “Are you staying, Angel?”
Through tears, I answer, “Yeah, I’m staying.”
“Thank fuck.” Zane’s lips meet mine, and his tongue immediately invades my mouth. Another hard body crowds me from behind, and lips make their way down my neck.
“Say you’re ours, Mama.”
Rio’s hands grab my hips. His fingertips trace up my sides and grope my full breasts.
I moan. “I’m yours.”
“Good because there’s no way in heaven or hell we would have let you walk out that door.”