The Billionaire Takes a Bride

“You weren’t at fault,” Sebastian interrupted hoarsely. God, that she would even think that. He wanted to wring the neck of every man who had made her feel that way.

She chewed on her lip and continued. “I couldn’t stay at my place anymore. I didn’t even know if I’d brought the guy up because I thought I was drunk instead of drugged. It didn’t feel like my place anymore. Not my bar, not my apartment. It was like everything I knew was no longer trustworthy. I broke my lease on my apartment and got a new one in a building with a doorman. Well-lit neighborhood. I drained my savings and the only time I left my apartment for about six months was to visit my therapist and to get my anxiety prescriptions refilled. And while I was coming out of the pharmacy one day, a girl skated past me on the sidewalk. She was handing out flyers for the local derby tryouts. And she just looked so strong and fierce and tough that I wanted to be her for a moment, you know? Because I thought someone like her could take a licking and not let life destroy her. So I went. And I was so scared I shook the whole time. I went to practices, and the moment I got on the track, it was like something inside me changed. It was like . . . here it was okay to fight back. Here, it was expected. And I started to tear things up.” Her soft smile became proud. “I’m not joking when I say derby saved me. It gave me a reason to get out once more. To stop being a hermit. To stop being afraid.”

“You did awesome,” he said, voice hoarse with emotion. Fuck, she was so strong. He was so damn impressed with her.

“Pisa and I became friends, and we became roomies. And she didn’t mind that I had to sleep with the lights on or I didn’t like being alone. Everyone’s a little weird, you know? But Pisa moved . . .” She spread her hands. “And here I am with you.”

She looked at him with a calm, even gaze that he admired. To be so calm while describing a horrific trauma. It was humbling. His life had been a fucking breeze compared to hers. His biggest problem was his mother and a few cameras. She’d been through horrible situations and come out stronger on the other side.

“So now I’m just a derby girl and a soap maker on the side, since I have to figure out how to pay the rent.” Her smile returned, flashing him a dimple. “I’m a great derby player but a rotten soap maker. I just don’t have the killer business instinct. I don’t even have my own website. I just set up on Etsy and sell at local festivals and stuff.” She shrugged. “I’d rather be Chesty LaRude most days than Chelsea.”

“I like both aspects. Why can’t they both be you?”

Her smile faded a little. “Chesty’s very open with her sexuality. She vamps for the camera and the audience, and it doesn’t matter if they appreciate her or not.” She shrugged. “It’s easier when you have the helmet and the roller skates. It’s like you’re donning another personality. I picked a sexy, fun one because I wanted to reclaim who I was.”

“I thought it was great.” Hell, he could hardly wait to draw her.

Her expression hardened and she gazed off into the distance. “A lot of men will give a woman shit if she dresses sexy and flirts, saying she’s asking for it. And if she’s raped, they say she deserved it for provoking them. But it’s my fucking body. I’ll wear whatever I want and that doesn’t mean anyone has the permission to tell me what to do or how to be.”

“You can dress and act however you want when we’re together, you know,” Sebastian said.

She gave him a challenging look. “I know that. I don’t need your permission.”

He scratched his head, feeling sheepish. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She reached out and patted his knee, the first contact she’d made with him since starting her horrible story. “It’s all right. I know your penis makes you think that you make all the decisions.”

He snorted. “That wasn’t it, but I’m glad you’re in a forgiving mood.” Something about her story wasn’t sitting right with him. “So the guy. Was it the bartender?”

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Did they catch him?”

Her gaze flicked and her mouth tightened. She shook her head. “Nope. I couldn’t identify anyone. The rape kit was contaminated in-house and unable to be used as evidence. Sometimes the system works, sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve come to terms with it.”

Rage burst in his mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? That guy is out walking the streets? I can call my lawyer in the morning. We’ll get entire teams on this—”