Page 23 of Forbidden

No. He couldn’t. That wasn’t true. He was a good man. The best of us.

He might be a criminal, but so was I. However, we had a code. Beliefs. He’d never hurt a woman.

There were rules. We put them into place after we’d taken over from our uncle. After we watched him beat and hurt countless women. Girls.

Mitchell certainly wouldn’t hurt his wife. The woman he promised to love and care for. The woman who had carried his baby. He’d never.

I tried to convince myself.

A hidden part of me recognized the truth. A part I’d never wanted to acknowledge. I was close to my brother, and sometimes I’d see it. Sometimes, his mask would slip, and I could see the demon behind. To lead effectively, he had to be intimidating. But still…I shook my head.

“At home?” I pushed because I needed to hear it. “Did he hurt you?”

Grace’s blue eyes pierced me as if she was trying to see into my soul. Trying to decide if she could trust me. The man she’d just sworn her life to.

Her reluctance cut deep. I had so much work to do. To prove how much I cared about her. To prove she was safe with me.

She stood on shaky legs. My heart rate increased as she reached behind herself and unzipped her dress. I wanted to close my eyes because I knew it would be bad. But I never expected what I saw. I didn’t know how I stayed on my feet.

“What do you think?” She asked as the fabric fell, pooling at her ankles.

Holy fuck!

Goddamn!

Motherfuckers!

Son of a bitch!

I fucking raged in my head. Threw around every curse word I knew.

Her body. Her entire fucking body was covered in scars. Round burns marked the crease in her elbow, as if a cigarette had been held there.

No, a cigar; my brother loved cigars.

I let out a ragged breath as I continued to examine her. Her stomach, back, and thighs had raised red strips, as if someone had beaten her with a belt. There were shallower cuts on her wrists and forearms, as if a knife had been dragged through her delicate skin.

Now I realized why she always kept herself covered. She hadn’t exposed an inch of her body since her engagement party. I thought it was modesty. I had been wrong.

So very fucking wrong.

“He did this to you?” I choked past the constriction in my chest.

“Y-yes.” She blinked at me as if she had been lost in her thoughts, and my voice had brought her back to the present.

“He always found a reason to hurt me. I was too friendly with the guards. Not friendly enough to his business associates. Dinner was cold, even though I never knew when he would come home. Or because I refused—.”

Her voice cut off, and she sniffled. But she didn’t cry. I wanted to be proud of her strength. But I couldn’t. I hated she had to be that way. Hated what had made her like this.

“And the pregnancy?” I needed to know. I needed to know everything. Even if it gut me, I had to know the truth.

She rolled her lips and shook her hands at her sides like she needed to prepare herself to get the words out. “He took what he wanted from my body, whether I wanted to give it. I was his wife. His property. The sole reason he let me live was to give him an heir.”

Acid burned in my throat. I tasted it on my tongue. But I fought against it.

“Fuck.” I ran my fingers through my hair, looking anywhere but at her. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. The walls were closing in around me.

Without my permission, my eyes flicked over her body again. A goddamn goddess. Creamy skin, soft curves, long, thick hair. Pink plump lips with that fucking freckle I was obsessed with. A beautiful heart-shaped face, stunning blue eyes.

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