“That went better than it could have,” Theo comments, keeping his voice low.
“It did.” Marcus nods. “I think he was serious about his terms. Which means the Viper is fucking shit up for his family worse than he was letting on.”
Theo makes a noise in his throat. “The only problem is, now we’ve gotta find a man who doesn’t want to be found. This guy is like a fuckin’ ghost.”
“We’ll find him.” The grim determination in Ryland’s voice matches the feeling that hums in my chest.
We will find him. We have to. We’ve been given an opening, and if we can get Gabriel on our side, it might become easier to force Michael to bend a knee too. The more dominoes fall, the more power we amass, the easier it will be to claim the last few pieces on the board.
I hate that Victoria was the one who offered us this lead, but we can’t ignore it just because it came from her.
My thoughts are whirling as we cut through a large, dimly lit bar area. There are cocktail tables spread around the space, and the low buzz of voices deep in conversation surrounds us as we make our way through the crowd.
I’m so lost in my mind that I crash into someone as he heads toward the bar, letting out a startled yelp as his hands grab my arms to catch me.
“Excuse me, I—”
The man breaks off, his eyes flickering as recognition passes through them.
I freeze, my gaze locked on his face.
The world seems to narrow to a pinpoint, everything else fading around us until all I can see is that face.
That face.
He’s older now, but he’s still got the same straight brow, dimpled chin, and square jaw. The same light brown eyes.
My stomach seems to fall out of my body. The places where his skin touches mine, where he’s grabbing my arms, burn with cold fire.
You’re fine.
The words echo in my head, just as much of a lie now as they were when he said them to me after the first time he raped me. When I held a pair of shredded underwear in my hands, clinging to them as if I could somehow put the damaged fabric back together. As if doing so might put the damaged pieces of me back together.
It became his mantra, his command, the only two words he regularly spoke to me, and he said it with more and more disdain every time—like he couldn’t believe I was ignoring his orders.
Every hour that’s passed since I finally escaped the foster home where Jordan McCabe tore away my innocence seems to melt away. It’s like no time has gone by at all, and whatever strength I’ve built inside myself over the past years vanishes in a flash.
I’m raw and bleeding.
Just the way he liked me.
“Sorry, miss.” Jordan smiles blandly at me, the recognition I saw in his eyes a second ago replaced by polite disinterest. He flicks a glance at the three men who surround me then steps away, disappearing into the crowd.
I blink after him, and Theo ducks his head to look at me. “Hey, Rose? You okay?”
My skin feels numb. It feels like I was standing face-to-face with my abuser for hours, but in reality, it must’ve been just a second or two. My heart is slamming against my ribs, blood rushing through my veins so fast I feel nauseated. But now that Jordan’s horrifying brown eyes are no longer focused on me, I manage to shove up the walls around my heart again, barricading the pain inside.
“Yeah.” I shake my head, swallowing. My mouth is dry as a fucking desert. “I’m okay. Let’s get out of here.”
He doesn’t look convinced, exchanging a quick glance with the other two men, but I drag in a deep breath, forcing my voice not to shake. “I just need some air. That’s all.”
“All right.” Concern darkens his blue-green eyes, but he puts a hand at my lower back, guiding me through the crowd as the other two men fall in beside us.
I keep waiting for the sick feeling in my stomach to fade, but as we settle into Theo’s car, it only gets worse. I’m breathing normally, but it’s as if the air has thinned, leaving me oxygen deprived anyway. I try to pay attention as the men discuss plans for tracking down the Viper and dealing with him. I know I should focus on their words and try to help them, but my mind feels like it’s spiraling. Every half-formed thought ends in the same place.
Him.
Jordan McCabe can’t touch me now. I’ve been out of his house for years, and I haven’t seen him since the day I moved out. He has no power over me anymore.
But he did touch me.
I can still feel the outlines of his brutal hands on my arms, and even though his grip wasn’t rough, my arms physically ache at the remembered contact.
His hands were on me tonight. Hands that’ve forced my legs open, that have been inside my mouth, inside me. Hands that I feared for so long.
And with that single touch, my world came crumbling down.
I’m so trapped inside my roiling thoughts that I don’t even notice the conversation in the car has died out as we pull into Theo’s garage.
“Angel.” Marcus’s voice is wary, filled with the same concern I heard in Theo’s tone earlier. “What’s going on?”
I should tell him. I promised myself I wouldn’t keep things from these men, that I’d let them see all of me.
But I don’t want anyone to see this part.
I don’t want this part to exist.
A sudden sharp jolt of pain lances through me at the thought. I can feel all three of the men gazing at me, but instead of answering Marcus’s question, I fumble with my seatbelt, shove the door open, and flee inside the house.
Chapter 22
My pulse races as I take the stairs to the second floor two
