“No!” I pushed against the arm that was crushing me, kicking out with one leg, and suddenly feeling nothing but air beneath me seconds before I found myself bent over the sideboard. The breath was knocked out of me as it slammed into my gut. As I struggled to draw breath, I was vaguely aware of the throbbing in my cheek where my face had smacked off the top of it.
I tasted blood.
“You’re going to remember what it’s like between us, Regan.” I heard Austin say over the buzzing in my ears.
Air tickled my backside, and I realized my dress had been shoved up to my waist.
A sense of unreality descended over me as I felt my underwear tear.
No.
This wasn’t happening to me.
This happened to other people.
It couldn’t be happening to me.
I heard his zipper.
No!
I tried to push up off the sideboard, but he had my arms splayed over my head, my wrists crossed, holding me down with one hand, while he used his other—
“No,” I whispered hoarsely, pushing against his hold. He had me pinned with the weight of his entire body. No.
“Stay down,” he demanded.
“No.” My voice got louder as I tried to dislodge him with my hips.
“Stay down!”
And then I felt him, ready, pushing between my legs.
Nausea rose up from my gut.
And rage.
I lifted my head and chest just enough, and I screamed as loud as I could. “HELP!”
“Shut up!”
“HELP ME!”
“Regan?!” a girl shouted from the hallway.
Desi.
“DESI, HEL—”
A large, sweaty hand covered my mouth, cutting me off. “Shut up, or I’ll kill—what the fuck!”
A loud banging drew my terrified gaze to the door. It shook against the jamb. Another pound and it broke away, splintering off the door frame, flying open into the room.
A frantic Liam and Desi appeared, and I sobbed in relief against Austin’s hand.
“You motherfucker!” Liam lunged at Austin and then his weight was off me.
I was aware of Desi’s gentle hands on me, of her smoothing my dress down to cover me, her embrace as she held me while Liam threw Austin out of the room. Their words of concern, their questions, became like gnats in my ear, buzzing around.
I was already somewhere else in my mind, planning my escape from Vietnam, from what had just happened.
Nothing happened, I whispered.
Nothing had happened.
You’re okay.
Nothing happened here.
27
Regan
Present day
“Liam and Desi wanted to get the police … and I should have.” I couldn’t meet Thane’s eyes. “I should have been brave and stayed and pressed charges, but all I could think about was running. Getting as far away from Austin as possible. If I could get away, then it never happened. So that’s what I did.”
Thane’s silence made my heart throb with renewed fear.
Now he knew.
I was a coward.
Finally, I looked up into his eyes. He was furious.
My stomach dropped. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You,” he bit out hoarsely, “have nothing to be sorry for. I just … I wish you’d told me. Then what happened downstairs …”
“No.” I reached for his face, scrambling into his lap to straddle him. “No, Thane, no. What we have,” I whispered against his mouth, fresh tears falling, “it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had in my life. I don’t want this to taint it.”
He gripped my hips, squeezing. “Why didn’t you tell me, then? Why did you lie to me and Robyn about what happened in that hotel room?”
Shame was this sickening ball in my gut. “Because … I’m not strong like you. Or Robbie. I’m not brave. And I thought if I just pretended it didn’t happen, then he wouldn’t have any power over me. I guess I got so good at pretending … that I really buried it. I buried it like it was just a nightmare. Until now. It flooded up and out of that deep, dark pit I’d put it in.”
“Mo leannan.” Thane cupped my face in his hands. “Our brains are strange and complicated. But when we bury things that shouldn’t be buried, our subconscious always pushes it back into the daylight. And now that it is”—his expression was tender but wary—“you can’t pretend anymore. We have to deal with it. And you must tell Robyn. You have to press charges.”
I tried to pull away, but he slid his hand around my nape to gently but firmly stop me.
“Please, mo leannan. Or I’m going to kill the motherfucker.”
It wasn’t a threat said in an angry but teasing manner.
He sounded extremely serious.
“You’re going to fly to the US to kill him?” I tried to ease the tension between us.
Thane didn’t think any of it was funny. “He tried to rape you. He stalked you. And he made you feel like a coward, which you’re not.”
I looked away.
He took hold of my chin to turn me back to him. “You are strong. You are brave. And I won’t let him make you feel like his victim.” He nodded. “Yes?”
Considering this, considering the rage I felt in that room, and then how I’d buried what he’d done so deeply that I’d served coffee to that piece of shit for weeks after, something hard and determined slid through me. “You’re right.”
Pressing a sweet, grateful kiss to his mouth, I sighed into him. “Thank you.”
“I did nothing,” he said gruffly.
“You did. You were you.” I kissed him a little deeper, and his hands flexed on my hips.
“We shouldn’t. You should rest.”
“I don’t want to rest.” I kissed his cheek through his beard, peppering soft kisses down his strong throat. “I want to make love to you. All you have to do is sit there and take it.”
Searching my gaze for truth, Thane hesitated.
He didn’t trust me. Didn’t trust me with my own emotions.
How could I blame him?
My inner question made me freeze over him.
Just because I’d buried a trauma didn’t mean I didn’t know myself.
I knew myself.
I glared at him. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I didn’t.” He frowned. “I didn’t say a word.”
“You don’t trust me.”
“It’s not that. I just think it’s too soon right now.”
“For who?” I slipped off him and slid from the bed. “Me? Or you?”
“Regan.” I heard him scramble to get off the bed, but I was already out of the room.
Just as we were about to pass his room, he caught up and pulled me to a stop. “Regan, don’t take this out on me. Please.”
I glowered at him. “You know what you don’t do when the woman you’re sleeping with tells you she was almost raped? You don’t sexually reject her afterward. It tends to make her feel like used goods.”
Thane jerked like I’d punched him. “I never meant it like that.”
Remorse flooded me. “I know. I’m just …”