Chapter 47
I ’ve been angry before. I’ve felt rage.
But as Helen’s confessions slice through me, the blackness inside me reaches a whole new level.
Its uncharted territory—this violent, thundering urge to hunt and destroy anyone who dared touch what’s mine.
It’s overtaking every logical thought and leaving me in a red filled haze.
This is more than mere anger. It’s colder, sharper, a rage that sears everything in its path.
I knew her story wasn’t going to be pretty, that it would have my blood lust kicking up a notch, but fuck me.
Hearing the utterly devastating tale from her lips lashes at me with more efficiency than a barbed whip.
The only thing keeping me somewhat sane is feeling her heart berating against mine, her breath fanning across my neck, and the way her nails dig into my wrists.
Clinging to her, I remind myself she’s safe now.
No one will ever get their hands on her again. Over my dead fucking body.
“I’m going to run you a bath, and you’re going to let someone else take care of you for once, okay, sweetheart?
It’s okay to need help, to break down when you need to.
You are safe here, I swear it. On my life,” I vow, wishing I could go back in time and undo all her hurt.
I might not be able to, but I sure as fuck can seek vengeance and lay all her abusers at her feet in a bloody trail fit for a queen.
For that’s what she is: a queen. My queen. And it’s about time everyone knew that.
“That sounds nice,” she whispers and it’s all the permission I need. Placing a kiss on her crown, I head upstairs. Bypassing her room and en-suite, I head for the master bath. I turn on the tub, testing the water before adding some bath salts and pulling out my phone while I wait for it to fill up.
“Yeah?” Brennen grunts as soon as the call connects. A man of few words, but words aren’t what I’m after tonight. Action is, and if anyone can get this ball rolling, it’s him, even if he is currently in the middle of a recon mission.
“I need you to run a few new names for me. This trumps the previous list.”
“Are heads going to roll?”
“Maybe. Check through that server and start with a Kyle. He would have made the purchase ,” I spit the word out, disgust curling in my gut, “around six years ago. No purchases that I know of since then. Then, cross check for mentions of visits from Angus, Peter, a Roger, and a Benedict. Keep digging until you get me all the names you can.”
“Got it. Want me to get Ciaran to start hunting them, or should we wait and dial you in?”
“He can start, but those fuckers are mine. Get them in the Pit or get me addresses, yeah?” At his grunt of agreement, I hang up and take a deep breath.
Cracking my neck, I try to shove my rage beneath the surface.
It won’t serve me to unleash it now. Knowing we have things in motion to find these sick fuckers makes it a tad easier to force a sense of calm I don’t feel onto my face as I head back down to get Helen.
She’s exactly where I left her, a haunted look on her face that I’d sell my soul to erase.
Making my steps heavier so as not to startle her, I make my way over.
No words are needed as I guide her up to the bathroom with a hand between her shoulder blades.
With a frown, I note she’s still too skinny, too fragile, for my liking.
I shouldn’t be able to feel her bones through her clothes.
Making a mental note to ask Fiona for some recipes, I lead her through my room to the master bath.
“You meant it when you said you couldn’t change anything, huh?” she remarks, taking in the uncaged room where we spent so many, and yet nowhere near enough, nights.
“What can I say? I didn’t want to move on when I knew what heaven was.
” Ignoring her sharp inhale, I open the bathroom door.
“There’s towels on the rail. I’m going to get some dinner started.
If you need me, just call, okay, sweetheart?
” At her nod, I leave her, offering her privacy. It’s the least I can do.
Leaving her to it, I assess what we have in the kitchen. Spying the ingredients for lasagna, I quickly throw it together and pop it into the oven before heading back upstairs. I softly rap my knuckles against the door, waiting for her to give me the go ahead before letting myself in.
Seeing her with her skinny knees curled up to her chest, blonde curls damp around her face, and glassy eyes has an ache burrowing its way between my rib cage.
In that moment, all her hurt, all her scars, are a physical thing between us that I wade through to edge closer to her.
Once I’m close enough, I grab the bottle of conditioner, the same one she used to keep here.
At her tentative nod, I settle on my knees beside the bath and guide her head back as I lather the conditioner into her soaked curls.
“You remembered,” she mutters, looking up at me as I tip her head back to rinse the conditioner out, taking care not to tangle it in the process.
“Of course I did. There’s not a thing about you that ever left my mind.”
“Hmm, yeah? How’d I take my coffee?”
“With far too much sugar and a dash of milk, but your preferred drink was an iced caramel latte with an extra shot and a bucket full of cream and caramel drizzle.” I wrinkle my nose at the memory of the sugar overload.
Seeing her spark come back is worth it all.
Once the last of the conditioner is rinsed out and the bathroom smells like coconuts, I hold up a big, fluffy towel for her and avert my eyes as she wraps it around herself.
“Thank you,” she murmurs, eyes solely focused on the floor. Slowly, I reach for her, tilting her head up so I can capture her eyes with mine.
“Queens don’t look at the ground.” I back away, taking a seat on the bench and patting the seat beside me. Hesitation lines her face, but she comes over, and when she spies the detangler in my hand and microfiber towel beside me, her face softens into a look of wonderment.
“How…”
“I’ve done my homework. I wanted to be able to help with April’s hair, since it looks like she’s inherited your curls.
” Offering her a crooked smile, I indicate for her to turn around.
Once she does, I get to work gently taking the dampness out of her hair and detangling it.
I’ve spent more nights than I care to admit dreaming about this.
Her shocked hiss as she inhales and the way her back quivers is her only answer, but it’s all I need.
Pressing a kiss against her shoulder, I reach for one of her hands and offer her what comfort I can while she lets me.