That word sent a stake of pain slicing through my being.
Refusing to feel the impact of it, I pulled Emily closer as she continued through a rush of quieted words. “—and that woman, she wasn’t his wife. It all hit me in an instant . . . the disgusting mess they were involved in.”
The words heaved from her throat, and I couldn’t do anything but gather her up. “Fuck, Emily.”
I pressed a frantic kiss to the top of her head, and she clung to me, her face buried in my throat. “I wanted to run, Royce. I wanted to scream and beg for help, but I was frozen. Frozen in fear and shock.”
Her entire body rocked like an earthquake, and she dug her fingers into my chest. Words nothing but whimpers. “He forced me onto my knees like that girl, tied my wrists behind my back, and blindfolded me. Then . . . then he kissed me. Soft. Like I was an old lover.”
Revulsion blazed across her skin.
Rancid and foul.
“Next thing I knew, he had me on a bed and was pushing up my skirt. I was begging him . . . begging him not to hurt me. To let me go. That I would give him anything.”
She hiccupped for a breath, burrowing her face deeper into my throat, the words barely heard though I felt them to my soul. “He marked me, Royce. He carved an X on my hip. Just like he’d done to that girl. The pain—it was excruciating—I screamed even when he was threatening me not to make a sound. He told me I belonged to him, told me if I said a word, he was gonna expose my brother. Ruin us all.”
“Jesus, Emily.” My hands palmed the back of her head, her back, trying to give her comfort when I felt her completely coming apart.
Guilt clutched me in a vice.
Suffocating.
Those nails scraped deeper into my skin, like she was carving me with her grief. “When he took that knife and cut off my panties, I knew he was goin’ to do terrible, terrible things to me, Royce. I knew it. He had me blindfolded, which I was only half grateful for, because then maybe it wouldn’t seem so real.”
I wrapped her tight.
No space between us.
That connection no longer pulling.
It was tying.
Binding us in a way there was no chance either of us would come back from.
She laughed a confused sound through her tears. “I got so lucky, Royce. Not ten seconds after I screamed, someone was knocking on the door, calling out, ‘Room Service.’ Cory had shouted that he hadn’t ordered anything, but they kept pounding. Cory had leaned up and put his disgusting mouth by my ear and whispered that he’d be right back, warned me not to make a peep.”
Her fingers curled in deeper, voice haggard. “It all happened so fast—the sound of Cory answering the door before it burst open. A fight broke out . . . all this banging and crashing. I started screaming, begging for help, and a second later, the room service guy was ripping at the ties on my wrists and picking me up from the bed. I was weeping when he carried me running across the room. He set me on my feet and whispered for me to run. So, I did, Royce. Three steps down the hall, I tore off that blindfold and didn’t look back.”
Destruction lined my muscles, and my bones creaked under the pressure.
Emily’s grief banged against the walls. Banged against my spirit. She edged back, turning that unyielding gaze up to me, regret racing through her face. “Instead of calling the police to report what happened, I just . . . ran. Ran scared. Terrified for my brother and what he was involved in. Terrified for myself. I ran and ran until I got back here to Dalton. I up and left the band without a word. I didn’t even check on that guy . . . don’t even know what happened to him. I’m sure the second he saw it was Cory, he’d been too scared to say a word.”
Her words hitched. Like she was begging for me to see. To get it. Not to judge her.
As if this girl could hold any of the blame.
“When I got to Dalton, I went to the house Nile and I shared. Things were already bad between us, but I needed someone to confide in. To stand beside me. I guess I was hardly surprised to find him with another woman. Still, I’d never felt so alone. So lost as that night, standing out there in the road. No home. No one to call. Terrified to tell someone and terrified not to. So, I kept it bottled, let it fester.”
She splayed her hands out over her sweet heart. “I let it fester and fester until it started coming out as these anxiety attacks that I couldn’t control. So much guilt for letting that man roam free, so much worry over Richard, hiding something like that, for being involved in the first place. And then Cory started sending me messages . . . saying he would be back to take what was his and do it soon. It all became too much to handle.”