16. Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Sixteen
Wrenley
I scrubbed until the water ran cold. Until my skin stung.
Until the soap slipped uselessly from my fingers.
But it’s still there. The dirt’s gone, but the shame clings to me like smoke.
I stand at the vanity wrapped in a towel, water dripping from my hair in slow trails, pooling at my feet. The mirror doesn’t lie.
Finger-shaped bruises wrap around my biceps and throat, dark and cruel. My lip is swollen, the edge cracked and bloodless. I tug the towel tighter around my chest and pull the edge back from my thigh.
A bite. Jagged and crimson. A double-arc pattern, two identical crescent moons carved into my skin, just above the curve of my hip. Disbelief hits fist. Then rage.
I don’t even remember him doing it. He must’ve done it when I was out cold. After he choked me. After he smiled in my face and promised to rip my world apart one piece at a time.
The doorknob clicks behind me, I whirl, pulling the towel tighter around me.
It’s Liam.
His eyes scan me instantly, jaw tightening as they land on the way I clutch the towel to my leg.
“What was that?” he asks, voice low. Controlled. But only barely.
“Nothing.” I try to sound casual. I fail.
He takes a step closer. “This only works with no secrets, remember? I can see the blood running down your leg.” His voice drops even lower. “Show me.”
I suck in a breath. “You have to stay calm.”
“I will.”
I don’t believe him, but I drop the towel anyway.
It hits the floor with a quiet thud. His eyes go wide.
His face doesn’t change, but something inside him does.
It’s his posture. In the way his hands curl into fists at his sides.
In the dangerous stillness of him, forged from war.
Outwardly he looks calm, but I can see the battle behind his eyes. The barely restrained violence.
“Liam…” I whisper, trying to pull his eyes back to mine. “Doc gave me antiseptic before I came up. I was going to take care of it—”
He’s shaking his head before I finish. “You shouldn’t be the one treating it. You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite the steam still lingering in the room. “I didn’t want anyone to see. I didn’t even want to show you or Max.”
“Why?” his voice breaks a little, and it guts me.
“Because I feel…” my throat tightens. “Like if you see it, it makes it real. Like I let him do it.”
“You didn’t let him do anything,” he says immediately, fiercely. “You survived him. That’s all that matters.”
“I don’t even know how I was going to hide it.” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes now. “With us always… like we are.”
He steps forward and pulls me into his arms, not caring that I’m still damp, still shaking. He presses his forehead to mine and kisses me, soft, aching and reverent.
“You’re safe now, Little Warrior. And you don’t have to hide.”
I nod, swallowing back the emotion rising like a wave in my chest.
“I’m going to get Doc,” he says, brushing a hand down my spine. “You get dressed. I’ll be right back. I have to tell Max too.”
“Okay.” I watch him go. Then I look at myself again in the mirror. I don’t look like the girl from before. I look like someone who’s seen hell and walked out alive.
I’m holding Liam’s shirt closed around me, the scent of him grounding me as Doc kneels in front of me with steady hands and calm eyes. Her touch is gentle, but the antiseptic burns like fire as she cleans the bite on my thigh.
“It’s deep,” she murmurs. “But I don’t think it needs stitches anywhere.”
I nod numbly, jaw clenched, staring at the opposite wall like if I look at her face, it’ll be too real.
Then Doc hesitates. Her voice is quieter now, hesitant. “It’s going to scar.”
I don’t get a chance to react before Max hits the dresser he’s been leaning on. The loud thud makes me flinch. He turns his back to the room, bracing both arms on the wall like he needs it to stay upright.
“Maximilian,” I say firmly. He doesn’t look at me.
“Come here,” I command, holding out my hand.
After a second, he turns, coming to me like he’s trying not to fall apart. I grab his face in both my hands.
“This isn’t going to break us,” I say. “That’s what he wants. Look at me. I’m not breaking. I need you to stay strong with me.”
“I know,” he whispers, voice cracked. “I just—I love you so damn much.”
He kisses me, deep and aching.
Doc clears her throat with the subtlety of a freight train. “Alright, lovebirds,” she mutters. “I’m still on my knees between you two.”
I laugh softly against Max’s lips, “Sorry.”
Doc stands, removing her gloves. “I get it. You’re all done. Try to stay awake for a few more hours, please. And—” her eyes narrow slightly, “Be careful.”
I try to look innocent. It doesn’t work.
“Right,” I say, biting back a smirk.
She gives one of her dry, knowing smiles and leaves.
I sigh, sitting on the bed, letting the silence settle before asking quietly. “Now… about Donnie. Does he have any family?”
Liam nods, jaw tight. “A younger brother. Name’s Jaden. He’s in college, and Donnie was paying for most of his life.”
I let that sink in. “Then we take care of him; he’s one of us now. No details, not yet. Just enough to prepare him. And we make sure he’s covered, school, housing, everything.”
Max’s voice is raw but steady. “I’ll talk to Hunter. We’ll make it happen.”
He moves to the door but pauses when I ask softly. “Where are you taking his body?”
“There’s a church. A small place near the neighborhood where we all grew up. His parents are buried there,” Max says.
“That’s good,” I whisper. “He should be with them.”
Max crosses the room again, kissing me once more, this one softer. Reverent. It’s a vow. He looks at Liam, nods once, then leaves.
Liam and I are alone in the bedroom again. For a moment it’s quiet, but I know it won’t last. Not with war already whispering through the walls.
Liam sinks onto the edge of the bed, one leg pulled up, half-turned to face me. His gaze is soft, careful. “You have to stay awake for a few more hours. So, what do you want to do? Plan our next moves? Find a movie?”
A small giggle escapes me, one that surprises us both.
I crawl into his lap, straddling him slowly, carefully. My body protests, bruises blooming under my skin, muscles screaming, but I don’t let it show. I don’t want to think, I want to feel.
I settle against him, his hands instantly flying to my hips, fingers gripping with just enough force to ground me. “You’re not too injured?” he asks, brows furrowed with concern.
“Not if you’re gentle with me,” I whisper, pressing my lips to his.
I kiss him deeply, like I need to pour something sacred into his mouth. When I pull back, I let the shirt I’m wearing, his button-up, fall from my shoulders. I’m bare under it. His eyes darken, admiring.
He lets me tug at his shirt, lifting his arms to help. I push him gently back onto the bed, as he undoes his pants, and lets himself spring free. I follow him down, never breaking contact.
He goes to flip us, to take control, but I stop him with a palm to his chest. “You’re in charge tonight?” he asks teasingly.
“I’m always in charge,” I whisper against his lips. “Even when I submit.”
He groans, and I reach between us, guiding him to my entrance. I sink onto him slowly, letting every inch stretch and claim me. His hands grip my thighs, but I take my time, setting a torturous pace, rolling my hips just enough to make us both burn.
He cups my face, pulling me into another kiss. The tenderness of it makes my throat tighten. I don’t have the words to tell him what he means to me, so I show him instead. Every moment, every moan, every breath, it’s a confession.
“I love you,” he whispers against my collarbone, voice thick with emotion.
“I know,” I whisper back. “I love you too. I think I always have.”
We fall together, his arms wrapped around me as I collapse onto his chest, panting, spent. I rest there, our bodies still joined, skin sticky with heat and need and everything else that makes up the wreckage between us.
The door swings open.
“Fucking hell,” Torque says, immediately jerking his head up to the ceiling. “Why is it always me?”
I bury my face in Liam’s shoulder, half laughing, half mortified. Liam groans under me.
Torque chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. I came to say Margot’s downstairs with a deck of cards. Says if we’re not sleeping, we’re playing poker. Your royal ass is requested.”
I sit up still straddling Liam, and call out. “T, look at me.”
“Nope, not falling for that again.”
“Seriously. Look at me. I’m covered,” I drape the sheet around myself dramatically. “Just because you all think this place is haunted, doesn’t mean you can talk to the ceiling.”
He sighs, then finally looks. Right at my eyes.
“There, that’s not so hard,” I say, grinning. “But seriously, let me know if it starts talking back to you...”
Torque snorts. “Noted. I’ll deal you both in.”
He walks out, still muttering, I turn to Liam, breathless and beaming. We’ve survived hell, for now. Somehow, we’re still laughing. Tonight, that’s enough.