Page 144 of Wreck Me

“He was trying to turn you, pull you into the dark,” King said.

I nodded. “It was pretty much psychological warfare. He wanted me to break for him in every way.” I gritted my teeth. “And to that point, he didn’t stop there. One night I woke up to find myself bound to my bed and him fucking me. He said it was him introducing me to his somnophilia kink. After he’d finished, he left me there for hours. He came back and did it all over again, then sedated me making it clear he’d keep taking me while I was out and helpless. When I woke up hours later, he was gone and I was covered in his… you know.”

“Jesus Christ,” Caleb croaked, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands, emotion pouring from him.

I jolted as fingers brushed mine, but I calmed as soon as I looked to see Bastian reaching out and holding my hand. Worried he’d be fuming and basically frothing at the mouth, I was surprised to see him looking barely there now, even his grip a lot weaker than normal.

What was—

“The scars? Did he do that?” King asked.

My gaze darted to him and he was grinding his jaw, emotion in his eyes that he was clearly fighting to check, in order to keep on track.

“The arm was him. The scars on my back were me wiping out. Basically, after that happened, he left me alone for a while, but I’d taken to locking myself in the bathroom and sleeping in there. When I did sleep, that is. I tried to stay awake as much as I could, working on my video games or going out there as Onyx. Around then was likely when you got wind of my vigilante activities, because I stepped it up majorly. I couldn’t stop, really. One night I was jolted awake by bashing on the bathroom door. It was him. He breached the door and we fought. I ended up thrown through the bathroom window. That’s what cut up my arm. Fortunately, I landed on the fire escape. And with the noise it made, it woke up half the building, and Jett took off before doing any more damage. After that, I was in a really bad place, so much pain and fury.” I pulled my hand from Bastian’s and admitted what I had never actually told anyone. “I went after him. To kill him.”

“He deserved far worse,” Caleb ground out, lifting his head, and I saw tears streaming down his face. Oh my God.

“We fought and I had the upper hand, until he stabbed me with a needle. Some heavy-duty drug. I could barely see steady, but adrenaline helped me out in a big way and I managed to stab him in the gut, then stagger off. I made it onto my bike. We were miles from the town at that point. I’d come after him as he’d been on his way to another fight club, so I knew if I didn’t get the hell away, I was done for. It was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gotten on my bike in that state. I was a half mile away from the scene when the drug got the best of me and I wiped out. I woke up in the ER and there was talk about charging me for riding under the influence. I couldn’t explain that the drug in my system wasn’t recreational use without getting into everything about Jett. Given who his brother was, that was way too dangerous, for everyone who would be involved. So, I called my dad in. He pulled some favors and got me off the hook. Fortunately, being the great dad that he is, he believed me that it hadn’t happened from recreational drug use, even though I couldn’t tell him all the details, or who was responsible. After my dad came around, Jett disappeared. Maybe he’d been called back by his brother, I don’t know. Anyway, after that, it was peaceful for me at Vista Ridge for several weeks. But then there was Onyx. Things had grown out of control there and I came too close to killing. It freaked me out. And that’s why I quit, why I tried to put it all behind me.”

I sank back against the bath and brought my hands to my face, trying to shut it out now that I’d put all of that out there and had to basically relive it again.

Although, in amongst all that pain, brutality, rage, and regret that had been unearthed through telling my story, the fact that I had after all this time of keeping it to myself did make me feel a little lighter, there was some element of relief. Maybe when some more time had passed from this unloading moment, that relief would grow even stronger.

But it also niggled at that need I’d tried to let go of… the need to hunt down the bastard and rip him apart.

Before I could focus on that, the water shifted and I looked out to see Caleb climbing in fully-clothed. “Come here, darling,” he said, emotion clogging his throat.

“I’m fine,” I said, hating that tears had sprung to my eyes in spite of myself.

But as he reached out and very carefully brushed my shoulders, the tenderness cut me open, and then I was sinking into him. He wrapped his arms around me, and then Bastian was there too, the two of them completely covering me in their warmth, care, and support.

Through it, I looked to see King draping himself over me too, his long waves tickling my face, as he softly stroked my cheek.

Instead of pulling away and insisting again that I was fine, I let it happen. I wanted it to happen, to have their warmth all over me. And, honestly, right now I needed it.

Needed it? That was new.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

For right now, though, I breathed it all in and sank into them.

22

~Sebastian~

The calm was slipping away.

That peace that had enveloped me since that call with my mom and, thankfully, that had kicked in during Sky’s recounting of the sick and twisted things Jett Bane had put her through.

I’d heard every word she’d said, seen her struggling to talk through it, to live through it all over again, something she’d put a hell of a lot of effort into putting behind her. And because I’d been calm, I’d been able to really listen without freaking out, without letting anger or upset lead the way. Everything she’d said explained all her reactions and resistance to being the old her—well, the real her. It also showed just how courageous she was to start to go back to herself and then to actually let any of us in.

I couldn’t fuck that up.

I’d already come close after what Damien had done. The way I’d behaved at the venue and then when Caleb had come to find me just as the liquor was kicking in, but before I’d been ready and acclimated to it. And then he’d led me back into the living room and I’d seen Cas finishing up with eating her out, her satiated and in a serene state. It had pissed me off that he’d been the one to do that, to comfort her, even sexually. Not just that, the fact that he’d gained her trust to take things there with her so easily. I’d figured it had meant that my theory about him using his whole hero act to gain her trust had been confirmed.

And then, in my messed-up state, I’d been pissed that I was feeling like that, that I was feeling so many destructive and negative emotions, ones that were fucking well taking me over and blasting through all my control. And in that moment when I’d grabbed her hair, then slapped her cunt, I’d blamed her. But it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t. I’d made the decision to open up because I’d wanted to. The good that had come from it, having her, being with her, it had been worth it. Of course it had. But the other side of it all… it had me struggling.

Thankfully, it had been well-established that she liked being handled roughly—hell, really fucking roughly—during sex, so she’d taken it in a good way, it had gotten her off. But, still, knowing I hadn’t been in control when I’d done it—something Cas and Cal had picked up on because they knew me so well in that sort of situation—bothered the fuck out of me.

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