Chapter 20
Damon is loungingon one of the plush couches outside a door marked ‘private.’ I assume the door leads to Matthew’s office. “Where’s Bennett?” he sneers.
“You didn’t ask for him. You asked to speak with me,” I throw my arms out to my sides. “Here I am.” I pat myself on the back for sounding a lot more self-assured than I feel. So long as I can keep the fa?ade in place, he won’t know I’m about two seconds from falling apart at the seams.
I will myself to show no fear. Showing fear is a weakness. It’s how predator becomes prey. I’m so sick of being the prey. A little burst of anger flits through me, and I latch onto it. Encouraging it to grow by siphoning off all of my self-hatred, turning that hate outward where it’s deserved.
“What the fuck do you want?” I’m shocked by the vehemence in my tone. The hurt of being rejected by Matthew and seeing those pictures of me fuels the impotent rage I’ve felt for years. That rage now has a target, and it’s Damon.
He lets out a burst of laughter. “My, oh my, you have changed my pet.”
“Listen, asshole, tell our girl why you’re here, then get the fuck out of our club,” Kisten barks. My heart swells when he refers to me as ‘our girl’ only to pop like a balloon when I remember the look on Matthew’s handsome face just before I came down here.
Damon has a huge shit-eating grin spread across his face. He thinks he has the upper hand. He’s so obvious in his over-confidence. He thinks the results of his little visit are predetermined, so there’s no reason for doubt.
“It’s rather unfortunate, really,” Damon says with fake sincerity. “You see, it turns out that our dear little Rose isn’t in a position to give herself over to me. She has a Master already.” His words turn my blood cold in my veins. He’s talking about Mr. Perfect. “Don’t you, pet?”
Kisten steps up close to Damon, getting in his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” His body is tightly coiled violence just waiting to be unleashed at the slightest provocation.
I put a calming hand on his arm, drawing his attention. “He means that someone already thinks they own me and that they want me back.”
A look of confusion flashes through his brown eyes as he studies my face seeking answers. “Who?”
“Nelson Grant,” Matthew answers shortly as he walks into the room, his face a mask of hatred and disgust. “Our foster father. Otherwise known as Mr. Perfect.”
“Fuck me.” Is Kisten’s only response. He obviously knows about Mr. Perfect, at least what Matthew knows of him.
Damon gets a satisfied evil villain type look on his face. “How interesting. I’m sure Mr. Perfect, as you call him, will be thrilled to know that two of his wayward children are right here in New York City.”
“We are not his children,” Matthew says with so much vehemence I flinch. “He was a real bastard of a man back when he took us in and based on those photographs, he was even more of a monster than I ever gave him credit for being.” Contempt drips from every word as Matthew paces the room.
“Well, I know he’s going to be more than interested in knowing how successful you turned out. It seems he’s run into a bit of bad luck these days. Apparently, his best girl ran out on him just before one of her most important clients were scheduled, and these clients don’t take kindly to being refused something they want.”
With every word from Damon’s mouth, a little of the bravado I carry diminishes. I know what clients he’s talking about. They’re one of the reasons I ran when I did. My sanity wouldn’t survive another session with them. I shove the thoughts back into the deepest recesses of my mind. Refusing to let myself fall into those memories. They are done and over with. Even if Matthew doesn’t want me anymore, I’m not going back no matter what it takes.
“Yep, a bit of back luck,” Damon says conversationally. “Seems he came here to look for a new set of girls and guess what he finds?” He turns his gleeful gaze to me. “His favorite girl. Right here, hiding out in the easiest place to disappear. Of course, it didn’t take him long to realize you’d be looking for a new identity, especially after he almost caught up to you in Kansas City. All it took was that pretty little thing he has with him going to a few of the shelters to come across my name.”
The smile on his face makes my stomach turn. I’m not sure how I missed the evil that radiates off him in waves. When I first met him, he seemed like any other businessman. Powerful, wealthy, and charming. What a damn lie that is. He’s the kind of evil that would sell his own child if it would get him ahead.
“I do have to say I was pretty shocked when I saw those pictures of you. You seem so uptight and prude. If I had known how you really liked it, I would’ve skipped easing you into things. My new friend has promised me a night I’ll never forget as soon as he has you back home.” Damon licks his lips, looking me up and down. “I can’t wait to fuck you better than you’ve ever been fucked before. I’m going to make you scream.”
Matthew growls and lunges at Damon. Thankfully, Kisten is quicker, and in a move so fast I don’t see, he has Matthew pinned to the wall. He talks to him quietly for a moment, and the fire starts dimming from Matthew’s eyes. He nods at whatever Kisten is saying, then pushes away from him heading straight for me.
I stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Frozen. Unable to move to save my life, or in this case, my heart. I’m jarred from my frozen state when Matthew pulls me roughly into his arms holding me tight. So much is communicated in this silent moment between us. His breath hitches and if I didn’t know any better, I would swear he’s crying, but when he pulls away his eyes are dry.
“I’m so sorry, love,” he says, shaking his head. “I didn’t know.”
I wrap my arms around his waist, wanting to rewind time. Wishing I could go back and snatch that envelope from Kisten’s hands before Matthew could see. I never wanted him to know about that part of my past. It’s one thing to know that I was forced to be a whore; it’s another thing altogether to see exactly what that entailed. More than anything right now, I want to crawl inside a dark hole and disappear.
Kisten lets us have our moment, stepping in to get to the bottom of why exactly Damon is here. “Cut to the chase, Damon. What the fuck do you want?”
“Ah, I do love a good negotiation. You see, Mr. Grant has offered me any woman at his disposal for the duration of her contract. Plus, after, I get a real taste of your girl… I’m not really good at waiting for what I want. I’ll politely decline Mr. Grant’s offer in exchange for a night with Rose.”
Matthew’s entire body becomes a mass of tightly coiled rage. I snuggle myself closer to him, unsure if I’m trying to comfort him or myself… maybe both. “Never.”
“One night is a single blip on the radar. One night and you’ll never hear from me again.” He shrugs dismissively. “Or I can tell daddy dearest where is favorite girl is hiding and let him come for you. Your choice.”
Matthew laughs darkly. “You act like you have the upper hand here. You dare to come into my house making demands and threats? Why the fuck would I ever make a bargain with you when my connections run as deep as yours? Deeper even.”
“So cocky. Do you really think you and your rag-tag team can keep her safe? I didn’t take you for a fool, Bennett.”
“Fuck you,” Matthew growls. The ferocity in his tone sends a shiver down my spine. If it were anyone else, I would be afraid, but this is Matthew and he’d never hurt me.
“Suit yourself,” Damon says with a smug smile as he meanders out of the room.
Matthew turns to me and cups my cheek. I close my eyes and rest my face against his comforting touch. “You okay, love?” All the anger and threat are gone from his voice. He’s once again my hero. Sweet and gentle.
I nod. “I’m okay, but, Matty, I should leave,” my voice cracks as I choke out the words. “You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. You deserve better than a used up broken whore.”
Hot tears course down my face. He swipes them away with his thumbs, not letting go of his gentle hold. “You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart. I told you, you’re mine, and I protect what is mine. There’s no cost too great and no length I won’t go to to keep you protected.”
He lets out a possessive growl before kissing me deeply. I feel like I’m floating as I return his kiss. He’s not disgusted by me. He’s not sending me away. I sink into his hold, never wanting to leave his embrace. I push aside all thoughts of leaving and put my trust into Matthew and his confidence.
“Mine.”
I smile shyly at him. “Yours.”
“Damn straight.”
His mouth descends on mine again, before his lips touch mine, Slade strides into the room that dreaded envelope in his hands. Matthew pulls back, and the hard man that faced off against Damon is back. “Did you find him?”
“I got the information. Idiot wasn’t hard to trace.” Slade turns his black eyes to me. I expect to see pity in them, but instead, he looks haunted. “You want me to take care of it?”
Matthew pulls me even tighter against his body. “No, Daniels will run point on this one.” I get the feeling that there is a reason for why he wants Kisten doing whatever it is they are talking about instead of Slade. I just wish I understood why. There’s so much about these men that I don’t yet understand. They’ve taken me in and offered to lay down their lives for me without knowing what they are up against. It’s humbling. “I don’t want you leaving her side for anything. I need to handle some things. Take Rose and Hannah home.”
Slade hands the envelope to Matthew, and I flinch away from it as if it’s a snake. All three of the men have deadly looks on their faces at my reaction. Matthew gives Kisten a pointed look and he nods in acknowledgment. I wish I could read minds because something momentous just happened, but I’m not sure what.
Kisten presses a brotherly kiss to the top of my head before silently leaving the room, off to do whatever it is he does. The fact that Matthew doesn’t growl and go all possessive speaks volumes for how much he trusts Kisten.
“Come on, Rose, let’s get you home,” Slade says, reaching out to take my hand. Matthew holds me a beat longer then releases me into Slade’s care.
Hannah is standing just outside in the hallway. As soon as I’m within arm’s length, she pulls me away from Slade and into a tight hug. I’ve never enjoyed casual affection, especially the physical kind, but something about these people has changed me. I soak up every touch like I’ve been starved for it my whole life. When she pulls away, she doesn’t let go. She threads her fingers through mine and gives me a comforting squeeze. She keeps ahold of me until we are safely back at Matthew’s penthouse, only letting me go to get in and out of the car.
“I’m going to order dinner. Anything sound good?” Slade asks. The mundane question feels weird. I can’t help wondering why he’s acting like this is just a typical day. Like my life isn’t in jeopardy. Like I haven’t brought all kinds of trouble to his doorstep. He must sense my questions because he gives me an affectionate look. “Don’t worry, Rose. Everything is going to work out. Now, what would you like to eat?”
I think about it for a minute, but nothing sounds good. My stomach is still in knots even though I feel safer than I ever have before, the anxiety still has its claws dug in deep.
“Whatever you two want is fine with me. I’m not very hungry.”
Slade furrows his brow, and I get the feeling he wants to argue, but Hannah jumps in with some suggestions. Between the two of them, they decide on Italian. An hour later, a steaming plate of lasagna is in front of me. I pick up a breadstick and groan as the rich butter and garlic flavors explode on my tongue. It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten in my life.
I laugh at myself. It’s the same thought I’ve had with just about every meal I’ve eaten since Matthew saved me. I forgot the simple pleasure of good food. Hannah looks longingly at Slade’s chicken parmesan, without a word, he cuts off a piece and feeds it to her. She lets out her own little groan of pleasure. Slade watches her with a different kind of hunger, but he locks his reaction to her down before she opens her eyes.
My mind drifts to how intimate it felt to have Matthew feed me. It’s hard to believe that was just last night. It feels like I’ve lived a million lifetimes since then. In less than twenty-four hours, so much has happened. I remembered Matthew. I’ve enjoyed pleasure at his hands without anxiety or fear. I met friends and had my first ever shopping spree as indifferent as I was to it at first, it truly was fun to just be a normal twenty-five-year-old. Then my world was turned upside down all over again. My past careening into my present like a runaway freight train.
Despite Hannah and Slade doing their best to keep the conversation upbeat, melancholy sets in and I excuse myself. I escape to Matthew’s bedroom. After I brush my teeth and change into one of Matthew’s t-shirts I crawl into bed and hunker down under the covers. I hug Matthew’s pillow to my chest and fall into a fitful sleep.
* * *
“Slut, you know you want this cock. Stop fucking fighting me.” His hand smacks down on my bottom, jolting me forward on my knees hard enough that my head bangs into the headboard. He lets out a cackling laugh and does it again. He spanks me over and over until my butt feels like it’s on fire.
Without warning, he grips my hips and violently shoves himself into my dry vagina. He doesn’t stop. I scream with each pounding stroke as he tears through my body. I try to fight the urge to fight, fighting only excites him. I learned long ago not to beg. They want me to beg. The relish in my pleas for mercy. Holding that back is one tiny little rebellion I still have.
He moves harder and faster until my sobs are muffled by the sick sounds of flesh on flesh. I do my best to relax. To not fight, but I can’t help it. The fear turns into an instinctual need to flee. To escape. He laughs as I struggle against him, completely lost to fear and instinct.
For this man, I am a fantasy come true. He paid for my body and fear.
To me, this man is my nightmare. My rapist. Only one of many. This is my life.
Somewhere along the way, I lose myself to the darkness inside me. It curls itself around me in a protective shell and holds me close while the client uses my body however he wishes. I still know what’s happening. I can still feel the burning tear of every thrust, but in the darkness it’s apart from me.
In the darkness, I’m safe inside my own mind, separate from my body. Cocooned inside my own piece of insanity. One day, I’m going to break from reality and not come back from this place. I know it’s going to happen, and yet I still seek out the darkness to carry me away.
This client is a regular of mine. He recognizes the moment I retreat into the safety of my mind.
He always knows.
I whimper as he pulls himself from my ravaged vagina, and the fight reignites as he positions himself at my tight back hole. He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls so hard my upper body is arched off the bed painfully. “You won’t be checking out on me this time, bitch.”
That’s the only warning I get before he shoves himself past my tight ring and deep into my bottom. The pain is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. It’s not the first time someone has taken me there, but most clients use lubricant to ease their way. Not this man. No, he rams himself inside me over and over. His balls slapping against the tender skin below, adding another facet to my pain.
My screams echo through the room as I thrash beneath him. I can feel my hair tearing at the root, but that pain hardly registers because the pain in my bottom is so severe. I fight against his hold, doing everything in my power to unseat him. This time I do beg. I beg for him to stop. I plead with him to have mercy.
“That’s a girl. Fucking fight. You’ll never escape me.” He folds his big body over my much smaller frame and sinks his teeth viciously into my shoulder. The scream that’s ripped from my throat is so forceful I can feel my vocal cords strain and break until my screams turn hoarse and practically soundless.
“Rosie! Wake up!”
I’m jerked from my nightmare so suddenly my mind can’t seem to catch up with the fact that I’m free from that horror. The only thing I can comprehend is a large shadow of a man hovering over me, holding me in place.
I don’t think. I just react. I push the figure away and skitter across the bed. I barely have the sense to brace myself before I hit the floor. I curl myself into a tight ball and rock. Slowly, the nightmare recedes.
Just a dream. Not real. Not real,I chant to myself.
“Shh… it’s okay, love,” Matthew soothes.
I look in the direction of his voice but remain huddled in place. Afraid that if I move, I will fall into a million pieces. Once again, he’s approaching me like he would a wild animal. He stops a couple feet away and kneels down in front of me. He doesn’t reach out to me, instinctively knowing that his touch wouldn’t be welcome yet.
I shut my eyes tight and continue the soothing rocking motion. My inner chant switches to my mother’s voice. Back before the drugs, she was a great mom. She used to sing to me every night. A special song she made up one night when I was a baby and wouldn’t stop crying. She rocked with me for hours, trying everything she could to soothe me. She sang every song she could think of, and in the wee hours of morning, she just started making things up. Those made up lyrics did the trick and became my lullaby.
I let the memory of my mother’s voice soothe my fear. Her sweet words play on a loop in my mind until they chase away the nightmare.
“Love?” I look up into Matthew’s worried eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yes… no… I don’t know.” The words come out in a croak as if I’ve spent the night screaming my head off.
“Can I?” He holds his arms out to me. I don’t hesitate to crawl into his embrace. He lets out a shuddering breath the moment he’s got me in his arms. It must’ve taken a great deal of restraint to keep from swooping in before I was ready.
He stands with me in his arms and lays me back on the bed. He quickly strips his clothes, then crawls in after me. I sigh with contentment when he pulls me against his body, holding me close. Once again, I’m struck by the ease to which I accept his touch. Even after a nightmare like that, I don’t feel any hint of fear at being vulnerable with him. The exact opposite, in fact. I feel safe and secure, like as long as I’m in his arms nothing can touch me, not even my nightmares.
Exhausted, sleep starts to draw me under. I vaguely acknowledge Matthew kissing my forehead and whispering promises of love and keeping me safe.