Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32646 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
It just broke my already fragile heart even more. And after all the hell I’d endured, after watching them slit that poor girl’s throat because she had fucking endometriosis and wasn’t fertile enough for the ones with breeding kinks, I hadn’t thought my heart could break more than it already had.
But Cameron had managed it with one look. One devastating, tormented look.
“Easy,” Cameron murmured as Jax pushed open the back doors and got out. “I need to get you inside and cleaned up,” he said softly.
I nodded, clinging to him, my nail beds sore and aching as I pressed my fingertips into the back of his sticky neck, my blood on his skin from where I’d gripped him and reopened my raw fingers. I’d been tied down most of the time while I’d been in that awful place, but when he’d wanted to “test out the merchandise”, he’d untied me.
He’d wanted me to fight. And fuck, I had. Through all the tearing. All the horror. All the pain. I’d fucking fought.
Ace bounded out of the back after us and slung open the clubhouse doors. A girl, who I assumed was Blu, burst into tears at the sight of Cameron carrying me in. Blakely, Jax’s wife, stood from her seat, drawing Blu into her arms and turning her away from us. The boy, who I assumed was Grey, stared at me in wide-eyed horror. But there was an understanding there, too. Like he knew what I’d gone through.
Like he knew just what hell I’d endured. That just broke my already broken heart even more. He was so young. He didn’t deserve whatever he’d gone through.
“I need to get you in the shower,” Cameron told me, his words soft, his tone gentle. I barely swayed as he climbed the stairs and made his way down the hall to a door, which he opened. The moment we stepped inside, his scent wrapped around me, calming me in a way nothing else could ever hope to.
“Don’t know if I can stand,” I told him honestly, my throat hoarse, making my voice come out in a low rasp.
“I’ve got you,” he assured me. He settled me on the bathroom counter before easing his shirt over my head, dropping it to the floor. He ran his eyes over me, taking in the bruises on my skin—bruises in the shape of fingertips, hands… fists.
Just because he’d wanted me to fight didn’t mean he hadn’t fought back even harder. He’d wanted me to hurt. He’d wanted me to pay for whatever Cameron and his brothers had done to his uncle.
“They marked you with my lucky number,” Cameron rasped, staring at the aching, burning wound on my shoulder.
I just nodded before lifting my wrist, showing him the club and spade burned into the soft, tender flesh of my left wrist. He tenderly cradled my arm, his frown deepening as he stared at the mark. Then, he clenched his jaw before gently leaning me against the wall so I wouldn’t have to support myself and walked over to the shower to turn the water on. He toed off his boots as he tested the water temperature, and then he came over to me, lifting me off the counter. “Your clothes—” I blurted as he stepped into the shower.
He shook his head and sat on the side of the tub, resting me on his knees. “Not important,” he muttered as he began running the warm water over my skin. We both watched as pink streaks washed down the drain, and my chin wobbled.
“I’m here,” he said, raw pain in his voice. He pressed his lips to my temple and stroked my hair back from my head. “If you need to cry, then cry, little devil. I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you or take you from me again. I fucking swear.”
I shook my head, but my throat was too tight for me to say anything. I wanted to tell him I wouldn’t cry anymore. Not right now. I was safe. I was going to be okay, even if I did have a long road of recovery ahead of me.
I was just so tired. I wanted to curl up in bed in Cameron’s safe arms and just sleep without the worry of a doctor or a guard or even Johnny fucking Dorman coming into the room and violating me.
Cameron was gentle as he washed my hair, rinsed it, and then conditioned it. He was even gentler as he bathed my body, being careful of the marks. And once I was clean, wrapped up in a fluffy, white robe that’d been left hanging on the bathroom door, he applied ointment to the wound on my shoulder and to my aching nail beds before carrying me to bed.
A bottle of water and two white tablets were sitting on the nightstand. Without a word, he handed them to me, and I swallowed the tablets, too tired and aching too much to bother asking what they were. I didn’t care so long as it stopped this pain and made me sleep without nightmares and flashbacks plaguing my mind.