Shattered by You (Tear Asunder 3)

Trapped in a vicious cycle there was no escape from.

Just like my mother.

But even in my drugged-up state, I knew the consequences of what Ream had done for me. We had no choice.

We had to run.

As he ran with me, I caught a glimpse of Alexa standing at my bedroom door.

WHAT THE HELL was that? She’d freaked out, pale, shivering . . . like in the cafeteria but worse. The flip in my stomach wasn’t a good one. It was knotted and churning with the frothy beer. I was no psychologist, but this shit she was fighting was going to blow up in her face. I knew it. I saw it coming. I told her it would months earlier, yet we texted and she appeared as if she was getting better, even joking with me.

But the moment I heard her scream, my heart jammed up into my throat and lodged there like a fuckin’ rock. I hadn’t moved that fast in . . . maybe ever. I flew over the back of the couch, charged up the stairs and into her room. Kite right behind me.

Haven was an ice angel, strong and untouchable. But since being back . . . her ice cracked twice and what scared me was I hadn’t been around to see how often this was happening. None of us had. Luke hadn’t either, which meant if shit like this was happening, she hid it well. The excessive running she couldn’t hide, but Luke had seen something haunted in her face when she went for that three-hour run, and that was why he’d called me.

I yanked on a fresh pair of jeans then hopped on one foot as the end caught on my heel. It finally gave and I did up the buttons and grabbed a black t-shirt from the dresser.

Tonight was going to be fucked up. I knew it. I told Kite and he swore numerous times under his breath then suggested we call Luke back in as he’d gone home for a few days. Luke had two of his guys with Logan and Ream in Vancouver still.

I reached for my baseball cap then tossed it aside. “Fuck it.” We weren’t escaping notice, and in certain situations, it was better not to try to hide because that was when the shit usually hit the fan.

I chugged back the rest of my beer while Kite and I waited for the girls. We sat on the couch taking turns flicking elastic bands across the room trying to topple over the empty beer bottle I placed on the shelf under the television.

“She needs help,” Kite said and shot his elastic, hitting the base of the beer bottle.

“Ream and Kat tried. She doesn’t want it. Her choice.” I squinted and pulled back on the rubber then let it fly. It hit the bottle and it wobbled but didn’t fall over.

“Sometimes, people need a push. You flirted with Kat to push Ream into making his move on getting her back.”

And it landed us in a shitload of fights with Ream hating me until he finally picked up his balls and claimed his chick like he should’ve done from the beginning. “This is different. Whatever went down with her for the last twelve years . . .” I ran my hand through my messy strands that I’d given up trying to tame way back in high school. Plus I discovered the chicks liked a disheveled look. “Fuck, man, that Alexa chick was a sadist from the look of Ream’s back when they escaped that shit storm six months ago. That bitch was crazy.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad Haven shot her.”

Kite looked at me and after a second nodded.

We were silent for a minute, neither of us shooting elastic bands.

“You want to tell me exactly what a sadist does? You know . . . in the bedroom,” I asked.

Kite flicked the elastic at my head. “Don’t go there. I’m not a fuckin’ sadist.”

I knew he didn’t give a crap what I said about his sex life. Kite had his own pleasure-pain that rivalled on a little fucked-up for my tastes. But it was consensual.

“And why the fuck would you let any guy hold your dick and jab a needle through it? What the hell, man?”

Kite hit me in the chest with his fist this time. “It was a chick and I’ve never had any complaints about it.”

“Yeah, because by the time they see it, you have them tied up with a whip in your hand.”

“Don’t do that at home. Ropes. That’s it. All else is at the club.”

I did know that. He’d told me once that his tastes involved trust and he was never with a girl long enough to get that, so instead, he went to the club. It was a safe place for those interested in that lifestyle.

I shot my elastic again. “She does need help, but she needs our trust more.” Haven may never tell anyone what hell she’d been through. But regardless, it was her right to refuse.

Kite didn’t say anything and he wasn’t taking his turn so I looked at him. He was looking at me, eyes narrowed—assessing.

“What?” I punched him in the chest then threw my handful of elastic into the bowl on the coffee table and stood.

The floorboards at the top of the stairs creaked and stole my attention. Haven stood with her hand on the railing, her hair falling in soft blonde tresses over one shoulder and her legs . . . shit, she’d changed out of the jeans. It was the first time I’d ever seen her naked legs. Even when I jumped in the water with her, she was wearing pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

My breath locked down. My heart did the opposite and thumped wildly, which propelled my blood through my veins like a raging river right down to my cock. I went hard as a fuckin’ rock. Shit, no it was harder . . . like iron. She wore shiny black pumps and even from here, I could see her toes curled in the open toe on her right foot that was tipped forward about to make the first step downstairs.