“Well,” Mom said, dusting a finger over my cheek, her smile sad, “now you have matching scars.”
“That, I do. Lucky me.”
She kissed my nose. “Makes you look kinda badass.”
“I am, don’t you know?”
She laughed, then tucked the blankets tighter around my legs. Worry wrinkles and all, Mom was still the most beautiful person I knew. “Thanks for being here, Mom.”
“Twenty-two,” shouted the groggy man.
That time, I did laugh, then cried out in pain. Damn, I hurt everywhere.
“I’m gonna run to your place, grab you some clean clothes. They should have a room ready by the time I get back.”
“Mmmkay,” was all I could manage.
Mom waved and disappeared.
“Ow, Jesus. Fuck,” the man hissed.
To which the nurse replied, “One more.”
Another hiss.
“There. Done. Not so bad, huh?” A machine beeped, then buzzed. “The doctor will be in shortly.”
“How long?” the man grumbled.
“Well, let’s see,” the nurse replied, no constraint in her tone, “when he’s done assessing the damage you inflicted on those five men, setting that broken arm, resetting that dislocated shoulder. Patching up five split lips, one broken jaw, two broken noses, seven—”
“I get it, I get it.”
Footsteps came my way, the wheels of the machine squeaking. Before the nurse rounded the curtain, she stopped, and over her shoulder, asked, “I heard you were defending a lady’s honor. That true?”
“What the fuck ever,” the mystery man grumbled.
She only chuckled, offering me a wink as she passed. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart.”
Damn, emergency room drama put any telenovela to shame.
I wanted to question the man, but he seemed grumpy, and I wasn’t in the mood for conversation.
“Where is he?” someone bellowed from down the hall. “Where the fuck is he?”
Shuffling feet and heavy footsteps ensued.
“Sir. Sir. Excuse me.”
The curtain next to me billowed. My neighbor muttered, “Fuck.”
I relaxed into my pillow to enjoy the show.
“What the fuck is your problem?” the intruder yelled.
“The fuck’s your problem? You had her and you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants long enough to realize the best woman you’re ever gonna meet was right there, right fucking there for the taking.”
“How the hell is that any of your concern?”
“Where the fuck did you get that video?”
“Doesn’t matter. I got it.”
“And felt the need to show it to everyone in the goddamn bar? Why? Because she dumped your sorry ass? You bitter fucking prick.”
“Again, why the fuck do you care?”
“You know what this will do to Ellis and Lacey.”
The weight of a two-ton puzzle crashed over me, pieces clicking into place, crushing my body.
Ellis and Lacey. Video?
My drug stupor lifted. “What video?” I yelled over the angry voices.
“The fuck?” one of the men grumbled.
“What goddamn video are you talking about?”
The curtain rustled. Martin came around the corner, his face a bloody, swollen mess. “Nats?” His lower lip was two sizes larger than normal. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Natalie?” the other man said. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
More rustling. Martin was shoved aside. A bloody and not as bruised as Martin, but still damaged Cole, stepped into my field of vision, blocking everything out of sight.
“What the hell?” His fingers were on my face, too delicate for a man his size, too tender for a man who wasn’t mine. “Who did this to you?”
Heart racing, my breaths came jagged. “What video?” I asked again, terrified of the answer.
Cole only stared at me, jaw tight, gaze hard.
His chest rose and fell four times before I shouted again, “What video?”
Nothing.
“Martin?” I tried to peek around Cole. “Martin! What video?”
Martin stood at the end of my bed. Bloodshot eyes, three-day stubble. He pulled his cell from his back pocket.
“Don’t fucking do it, man,” Cole warned.
“Yes,” I argued, pushing Cole away from me. “Show me.”
I knew. In my gut, I sensed what was coming.
Martin thumbed his screen, his tongue darting out to lick the cut on his lip. He handed me the phone.
And there it played in glorious HD. The video. The culmination of my years of suffering under the sadistic hand of Victoria Ford.
The image of me, a naked white girl, smashed between two large, dark, muscular bodies—my twin cousins—seemingly entwined in passion.
“Hey,” Martin smirked. “If I’d known you were into that kinky shit—”
Cole’s fist hit Martin’s face, laying him down for the count.
I couldn’t find it in me to care about Martin.
I needed so desperately for Cole not to jump to conclusions. “It’s not what you think.”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. This is bullshit. The fucking video should not be passed around.”
“That was high school,” I muttered.
“What that is, is none of my business. I did some fucked-up shit back in the day.”
“You don’t understand…” God, how could I tell him?
“It’s not my business.” He stepped back. Shook his head. His laugh came cruel. “I thought you were a little too close with your cousin when we met a few months back.”
Sword through my chest.
He couldn’t look me in the eye. His obvious disgust hurt deeper than any physical wound.
When he turned to walk away, I spilled my guts, because fuck Victoria. He’d fall victim eventually. “That was right before graduation. I bought myself a new bikini. Lacey, Finn, Felix, and I were minding our business, found our own little corner of the beach. I got up to use the restroom. My ex was there, waiting for me, said he wanted to talk. Wanted me back.” I sucked in a shaky breath. “You see, he dumped me for Victoria two weeks earlier, just like all the other guys I dated. We talked. I said there was no chance of us getting back together. I headed back to the beach. Next thing I know, someone is laughing behind me. I hear a snip, snip, and my top falls off. I’m trying to cover my chest, more snips, and there goes my bottoms, too. I turn to find Victoria holding a pair of scissors and her phone, she and three of her friends recording the
