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 t
one 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 at a time. Every scar on my body seems to itch and burn, even the ones that weren’t caused by Jordan. It’s like he re-opened every single old cut and poured gasoline in the wounds.
Phantom sensation rushes through my ruined arm, making fingers I no longer have prickle painfully.
The hallway is dark as I practically run toward my room, and when I get inside, I don’t bother turning on the light in this room either. I shut the door and lean against the wall beside it, breathing heavily as my knees finally give out. I slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor, and then I wrap my arm around my legs, shrinking into a tight ball. My fingers dig into my calf, and I bare my teeth in a silent snarl as tears burn the backs of my eyes.
Motherfucker.
I want to kill him.
I wish I fucking had.
I wish I’d grabbed someone’s beer bottle and smashed it on a table, then shoved it through Jordan’s throat.
But all I did was stare at him. I didn’t even say anything.
The door opens silently, and I hate the way my body tenses with fear as it does.
“Rose?” Theo’s voice is quiet. “What the hell is going on?”