17. Bianca #3
“Bullshit.” I’m on my feet, pacing. “Don’t lie to me. What will she do?”
Owen opens his mouth, then closes it.
“WHAT WILL SHE DO?”
She’s going to make them pay for this. And it will be worse than anything they’ve ever known before.
This has to end now.
My mind is already whirling, making lists. Planning. Katie, Rebecca, and Liz are first. They will regret ever touching what is mine.
Then Whitney. A snake who thinks she’s untouchable. She’ll find out she’s not.
The fathers. Dr. Montgomery. Anyone else who gets in my way.
Whatever it takes. Whatever I have to become.
This is more than enough to take them all down, but I need to know every transgression.
“Is there anything else she’s made you do?” I whip around to face them, looking into their eyes and searching for more truths I don’t want to hear. But I have to know.
Weller’s hand rises in a calming gesture. “Bianca, please?—”
“What else, Weller? How else has she hurt you?”
Freddie’s breathing starts coming faster. Shallower.
“Tell me!”
Freddie’s face goes white, words tumbling out in a rush. “She makes us... she films us...”
His panic flickers in those green eyes. I can see he’s reliving the abuse, and whatever it is, isn’t pretty.
Fuck!
I pushed too hard.
I find myself climbing into his lap without thinking. My legs bracket his thighs as I frame his face with my hands.
“I’m sorry, Freddie, please look at me.”
His eyes find mine, wild and desperate. “You won’t be able to look at us the same.”
“I will. You’re so good, Freddie. So perfect. No matter what. Nothing changes that.”
He gasps for air. “You don’t understand?—”
“I don’t need to understand anything to know who you are.” I press my forehead against his. “I’ve known you my whole life.”
His body shakes beneath mine, hands coming up to clutch at my waist like I’m his anchor.
I can’t fix this, but I can hold him through it.
He swallows hard. “You’ll leave again.”
“No.” The word comes out absolute. I press a soft kiss to his face, then another. “I’m not going anywhere.”
And I mean it.
I can’t go back.
I can’t leave them to fend for themselves again.
The room is quiet… the significance of what I just said hanging in the air.
“I’m here.” I wrap my arms around his neck and let him bury his face against me. “I’m not leaving you. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
His grip tightens, his whole body trembling as he holds me like I might disappear. Several minutes pass before his breathing evens out, and the tension leaves his shoulders.
Owen grunts. “I’m not feeling particularly good either.”
I turn to look at him, one eyebrow raised. “Really? What’s wrong?”
He presses a hand to his chest dramatically. “Severe emotional distress. Might need some attention.”
He’s jealous.
My lips tug up at the corners. “You’re terrible.”
But I slide off Freddie’s lap and move to Owen anyway. He’s sitting there, looking up at me with those dark eyes.
He needs this just as much as Freddie did.
I run my fingers through the soft strands. Immediately, he leans into the touch like he’s starving for it, his eyes falling shut.
Before I can react, his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me closer until I’m standing between his knees. Then he presses his face into me, holding me so tight it’s like he’s trying to absorb me through his skin.
His whole body shudders against me.
“Missed you so fucking much.” The words are muffled against the fabric of my hoodie. “You have no goddamn idea. Not knowing if you were okay, if you were eating, if someone was hurting you...”
He’s shaking. This huge, dangerous man is trembling in my arms like he’s coming apart at the seams.
There’s such sincere honesty in his voice it makes me feel like I’m going to break into pieces.
“I know.” I continue softly threading my fingers through his dark, messy hair. “I missed you too. All of you.”
The memory of this morning with Weller crashes into me. His palm against my cheek. The way his arms wrapped around me like I was vital.
They still think of me as theirs…
It’s painful to add up all the time we’ve missed being together. All the moments that should have been ours. All of the terrible things that have happened to them since I last saw them.
Tonight has drained me. The extent of Whitney’s abuse, witnessing Freddie break down… all of it. It’s too much to process all at once.
I need to hit something… or someone. Being cooped up in hospitals and penthouses is killing me slowly—I’m used to training every day, sparring, pushing my body to its limits. Finding clarity through physical exhaustion. Tomorrow I need a good workout.
Find my focus.
I have plans to make.
Rage simmers beneath my skin.
Whitney tried to make them unappealing, but she failed.
I still want them more than my next breath.
“Can we watch a movie?” I keep my voice gentle, soft. We’ve all had enough excitement for tonight. “Something mindless with explosions?”
They nod, understanding without explanation. Tristan queues up some action movie—all explosions and gunfights and absolutely no emotional depth. Perfect.
I settle back on the couch, and they position themselves within touching distance.
Freddie and Owen claim spots on the floor in front of the couch, close enough that I can feel their body heat washing over me.
Tristan takes one end of the couch, pulling my feet into his lap, his fingers already starting to trace lazy patterns around my ankles that make my breath catch.
And Weller... Weller settles underneath me, carefully lifting my head to rest in his lap. His fingers thread through my hair, gentle and soothing, massaging my scalp. My eyes flutter closed.
“This okay?”
It’s more than okay. It’s everything to feel their touches, breathe them in. The sensation of being surrounded by them is overwhelming.
I could get addicted to this.
The wine and emotional exhaustion are catching up with me. My eyelids feel heavy, my body relaxed despite everything we’ve discussed. The warmth radiating from them is better than any blanket.
As I drift toward sleep, I’m dimly aware of someone—Freddie, maybe—pulling a soft throw over my legs, and Weller shifting to slip a pillow under my head.
I know I am safe with them.
Even if it’s temporary. Even if it’s doomed. Even if letting them back in is going to be the death of me.