“Examination?”
His jaw clenches and anger pulses through his heavy stare. “I saw that cell, Shayne. The blood on the ground, the torn underwear. I know what happened to you and I don’t want you feeling ashamed or scared. I don’t expect you to talk about it or even acknowledge what happened in there, but I think it’s a good idea to get yourself checked over.”
His words swirl around my mind as my chest grows heavier. I should have cut him off the second I realized what he was talking about, but the moment the words ‘torn underwear’ came out of his mouth, guilt came slamming down over my shoulders, and along with it, a shitload of indecision.
What happened to Ariana in the cell with the boys’ uncle is her business, and I sure as fuck feel as though she’d hate me for telling everyone, but how could I not? Knowing where she is right now, she’s probably been abused a million times over the past couple of days.
“That cell,” I say, the betrayal of what I’m about to do heavily weighing on me. “It wasn’t mine. It was Ariana’s.”
Roman flinches in the front seat, his eyes shifting to the rearview mirror as Marcus’ head whips around to look at me again. Levi’s hand clenches in mine. “What did you just say?”
“It was Ariana’s,” I repeat. “She was already there when I was locked up. It looked like she’d been there at least a few days. We didn’t really talk about it, but my guess is that she was captured after our little showdown at your father’s property.”
“The guards raped her?” Roman questions, his tone low and filled with venom, and while the four of us hate her for what she did to me, there’s no denying the years of history between Ariana and Roman. Despite cutting her off and throwing her to the wolves, news like this is still hard to hear.
Shaking my head, I swallow over the lump in my throat, trying to find the strength to say the words out loud. After what Ariana went through in that cell, the least she deserves is for me to be able to get the words out without falling apart. “Your uncle. Phillip. Your father sold her to him. He came down, abused her for two hours, and then dragged her away.”
“Fuck,” Marcus spits, turning back in his seat to look out his window as the wild, overwhelming emotions force their way through his body.
Roman’s chest rises and falls with rapid movements, and I can’t help but notice the sharp cut of his jaw as he clenches his teeth, fury rippling through his dark eyes. Not wanting to direct anything to Roman, I turn my attention to the younger DeAngelis sitting right by my side. “I know you guys don’t owe her anything after what she did, and trust me, I know how ridiculous it is of me to even consider this after everything she put me through, but she had my back down in those cells. When Phillip came in, she told me to play dead. He wanted to take me first and then take her home for seconds, but she drew his attention back on her. She saved me from suffering the same way she did, and the whole time she kept her mouth shut, protecting me while he defiled her. The things …” I shake my head, the haunting images flying through my head too much to handle. “I just laid there and played dead then watched in silence while he dragged her away. And I’m sorry, I know you’re not forgiving men, and going back on your word to disown her isn’t your style, but after what she did for me … in the very least your uncle deserves to lose his life.”
Marcus rubs his hand over his face as he glances toward Roman. “If Phillip knew where to find that cabin and had made a deal with our father, there’s a good chance that he knows something that we don’t.”
Roman shakes his head, reading into whatever Marcus is trying to get at. “He won’t lead us to him. Phillip is too careful. He covers his tracks.”
“Either way, Shayne is right. We can’t leave Ariana there to be abused day in and day out.”
“Are you forgetting that she almost had Shayne slaughtered in a fucking bathtub?” Roman questions, his tone louder and full of a conflicted fury.
“Fuck no, I haven’t,” Marcus fires back. “Ariana needs to be punished for what she did, and she will be, but not like this and not by Phillip’s hand. The ball is in Shayne’s court, and she can decide how she wants to execute this one. So don’t go fooling yourself by acting as though you’re okay with this. We know where you draw your lines, brother. This will eat at you for the rest of your life.”
Roman lets out a heavy sigh and quickly meets my hard stare before turning his attention back to the deserted road. “Then I guess it’s time we pay our uncle a visit.”
9
Hot clouds of steam fill the bathroom as I pull my stained tank over my head. My reflection is foggy in the mirror, but not even that will mask the nasty scars and dirt marring my skin. I don’t bother looking for long. I know what I will find, and it’s not something I need to dwell on right now.
After peeling my blood-stained pants from my legs, I scoop up my discarded tank and toss every bit of clothing I wore in the cell into the trash. Fuck, if I had the energy right now, those clothes would be burning in the bathtub, but the trash can will have to do for now.
Striding across the bathroom, I step directly into the hot flow of water. It singes my body and I suck in a loud breath through my teeth, quickly jumping away and slamming my back against the cold tiles. I slowly inch forward, taking my time as I stick my foot into the hot stream and watch as it slowly washes away the dried blood and grime coating my skin.
Getting used to the heat, I watch as the water turns my skin a soft shade of pink, and only after spending twenty minutes staring at the plain white tiles of the shower wall do I grab the body wash and scrub every crevice and inch of my skin. I wash myself over and over again, knowing that no amount of body wash will make me feel clean.
My head tips back under the water and I rinse it with shampoo, feeling my long locks of hair falling right down to my ass, the water making it appear so much longer. After spending ten minutes sailing a razor over all the important parts and making me feel somewhat like myself, my back falls against the cool shower tiles again.
I slide down the wall until my ass hits the floor and my knees come up against my chest. Curling my arms around my legs, I drop my head against my knees and close my eyes as the water crashes down over me like a waterfall.
It was a five-hour drive back to the DeAngelis mansion, and though this home comes fully equipped with everything a girl could ever need, it doesn’t feel like home to me. A part of me had hoped to hide within the walls of the boys’ gothic castle, and though that place holds horrendous memories of its own, it also offers me the illusion of safety.
A part of me is convinced that I’ll be safe here, that Giovanni won’t be stupid enough to come here again, but I’m starting to learn that my basic instincts can’t be trusted. I’ve turned down a million wrong paths since being dragged into this unforgiving world, and I’m barely finding my feet. I’ve never experienced unpredictability on this scale before. Shit, a girl can’t even chase a dildo wielding wolf through the woods without getting kidnapped. Though to be fair, in the movies, girls are always getting kidnapped in the woods when they foolishly decide to go out alone. I guess the joke is on me.