Chapter Thirty-Four
Rosalie
You look like you’re freaking out…” Evelyn says from the opposite side of my sofa. She holds a wine glass as she enjoys one of the drinks a brand sent me as part of a care package.
Charlie is seated beside her, an arm slung around her wife’s shoulders as she enjoys her own glass of the expensive red. Piper is lying out in front of me, her little arms and legs kicking jerkily as I play with her.
It’s a quiet night—mostly because I banished the guys to their rooms while I enjoyed some much-needed space.
Because I’m fucking freaking out!
“I’m fine,” My voice is high-pitched and squeaky, giving away my obvious turmoil.
Both of my friends exchange a glance.
I groan, my head hanging as Piper latches onto one of my fingers. “Can I tell you about what’s going on?” Charlie opens her mouth before I cut her off. “Without judgment.” Her lips slam closed as she hums.
Evelyn crosses her legs, giving me a doting look. “This is a judgment-free zone. We’re all ears.”
I can’t believe I’m about to say this…
“Well,” I distract myself with the squirmy baby below me, her little fist strangling my finger as I build up my courage.
Where do I even start?
Hey! I know they tormented me in high school, but I’m sleeping with all three of my bodyguards. They’ve all touched me intimately, and I’ve been fucked stupid by two of them! See ya next week!
I need to just rip the band-aid off. I take a deep breath, and I’m not sure what I’m meaning to say, but as the truth blurts from between my lips, I could slap myself. “I’m fucking my bodyguards.”
“Huh…” Evelyn trails before peering at her wife. “I owe you a massage later, babe.”
Charlie smiles. “Damn right you do. I told you they were fucking.”
I blink. “I’m sorry, but did you bet on whether I was fucking them or not?”
“Yup!” Charlie beams. “I figured it out the last time I was here, and you left me alone in the kitchen with them. They’re so easy to read that it’s laughable.”
God dammit!
I should have known she was already speculating. Charlie could sniff out any secret within a ten-mile radius. I hunch forward at the anti-climactic moment. “This isn’t even concerning to you?”
“Oh, it is.” My best friend says, her eyes cutting to me. “I wanted to put them on the next flight out of here ASAP, but Eve told me to wait until you made up your mind on them.”
Her wife gives me a patient expression. “And how are you feeling now? Do you want them gone?”
“I…” The words die on my tongue. Truthfully, with Roman, Kairo, and Maddox around, I feel…
safe. Even with my old crew, there was still some lingering doubt about their protection, and it turns out my gut was right on that one.
But the three men from my past haven’t given me any reason not to trust them.
I know they’re handling my dad behind closed doors, and it feels good to give that fear to them—let them shoulder the hard stuff while I work out whatever the fuck is going on inside of my head.
And my heart…
I once considered them beasts—a terrifying nightmare that tortured me relentlessly. And now…
I’m attached.
Maddox is easy to get along with, and he’s caring in his own, quiet way.
He pricks my finger for me despite having done it alone all my adult life.
Kairo is funny and keeps me on my toes with his teasing and quick wit.
He also sneaks me the snacks I enjoy without harming my blood sugar.
Even Roman has wormed his way into my life with his protectiveness and caregiver tendencies.
He’s always making sure my meals are balanced and diabetes friendly while keeping a close eye on my levels.
I’ve never been doted on.
But it feels so nice.
It means you’re ours, Rosalie. No one else will ever possess you the way we do. You belong to us.
Roman’s proclamation slams into me, making my cheeks heat with a blush.
I hate that his words have my pulse pounding and my stomach fluttering with something new.
I shouldn’t be falling for the men who treated me worse than dirt, but I can’t help it.
I’m weak, and I’ve never been taken care of this way. It’s hard not to fall.
“No,” I say as realization zaps me. It’s an awakening moment—something that grips you tightly as your whole world seems to slow to a halt. “I don’t want them gone.”
Evelyn nods. “And do you think you want to pursue them?”
That’s the million-dollar question.
Ever since our night in, I’ve been creating distance to give myself time to think through all of this.
They haven’t pushed, but they made it very obvious that I’m with them.
I have no problem with their configuration, and I like that they get along so well, but how can I move past what happened before? It still bothers me…
I did my own research on polyamorous relationships and found that communication is key.
You have to be open with your partners, and they have to reciprocate.
It’s a lot of work, but not something I should skip out on if I want to try this.
It’s important that we get it all out on the table. Everything.
“I want to try,” I admit, chuckling under my breath at the overwhelming emotion in me. This is a lot to unpack, but I think I’m doing a pretty good job of it. Having Eve and Charlie to talk through it all is helping.
My best friend sighs as she pulls out her phone.
She types up a quick message before turning to me.
“I’m having Elijah work on damage control once this becomes public knowledge.
If it works out. I’m sure there will be tabloid speculation on your relationship status, and I want to get ahead of it so you can enjoy yourself rather than listening to shitty gossip columns that try to shit on polyamory.
You deserve your happiness, and if those three chuckle fucks make you happy, then I’m with you, bestie. Ride or die.”
I slide my hand towards Charlie before she intertwines our fingers. The bridge of my nose stings with unshed tears. “Thank you.”
She smiles fondly at me. “Anything for you, Rose. You deserve your happily ever after, too.”
I’m standing in front of the trailer I used to live in, but something isn’t right. The area surrounding my old home is nothing more than a dark void, the other trashy homes gone and replaced with empty space.
I turn to look around me, but there’s nothing besides the beat up Corolla parked in the drive. Even the path leading to the house fades out.
I’m trapped.
There’s nowhere else for me to go except…
I slowly look back at the single-wide, saliva filling my mouth as my stomach bottoms out. Those old nerves that were once dormant begin to fester, coming to life as all of the sound hollows around me. I don’t want to go inside, but I’m not in control.
My hand lifts, and I see it trembling as I grab the door handle.
Stop, Rose.
Don’t do it.
It turns, giving away as the door creaks open. Warm light bathes me, but there’s no comfort in it. It doesn’t matter that the power is on. Dad is still angry.
I step over the threshold, my limbs turning to lead as my head turns towards the kitchen.
His face is blurry and nearly unrecognizable now.
It always is, but there’s no mistake that the man standing in the kitchen with a pamphlet gripped tightly in one hand and a serrated knife in the other is my father.
I know what he looks like. I’ve seen him a few times over the years, but it doesn’t change the fact that in my nightmares, a realm that he haunts, he’s indistinguishable.
Maybe it’s my subconscious trying to protect me from the face of my abuser, but it doesn’t help.
It makes him seem untouchable, that even in this state, he still has an emblem of control over me.
“Rosalie…” He slurs, wavering where he stands.
My gut churns at hearing him call my name.
I hate the way he says it—like I’m a nuisance rather than his daughter.
Even in my dreams, the visceral reactions to him are present.
I tense, my muscles locking up and my neck prickling with unease.
I lift my hand to my elbow, picking at my skin.
It’s a habit I’ve long abandoned in the real world, but one that doesn’t seem healed in this place.
He lifts the knife towards me, and my heart sinks. I lift my hands as if I can stop him, and I open my mouth to beg him not to hurt me, but nothing comes out. I can never speak in these dreams. I can never plead for him to spare my life.
“You look just like her…” His figure appears before me, towering over me.
I’ve always been shorter than him, but I feel minuscule now.
I can only curl into myself as I shake where I stand.
I keep trying to scream for help, but nothing comes out.
“But not for long.” He finishes ominously before I feel the first slice of the knife along the front of my throat.
The pain is searing, but slightly muted by my slumbering.
None of it’s real, but that doesn’t stop the burning sensation that causes my knees to buckle.
I drop to the floor before he wrenches me back by my hair harshly and climbs over me.
I toss my head side to side, trying to claw my way out of his hold, but it’s no use.
My blood, warm and trickling, slides down my chest as my father digs his fingers into the open wound and begins to pull at my skin.
“NOOO!” I finally scream, thrashing wildly as everything gets suctioned into a tunnel, and my head begins to spin. I’m jolted out of my dreamscape violently.
I gasp awake, sweat slicking my temples as someone looms over me. There’s distant shouting as I register the hands gripping my biceps tightly.
Dad.
“Get the fuck off me!” I shout, slamming the heel of my hand into the nose of whoever is hovering over my face. In the dark, I can’t make out Roman’s distinct features until he groans and shakes me.
“It’s me, Rosalie! Roman!” He grits against the pain, but I can’t think. Can’t breathe.