Page 23 of Roxanne

“At first, I assumed father wanted to kill Eli himself. Now, I know it’s because he wanted to keep him alive to torture him. Constantly. Mercilessly. With no end in sight. I doubt you’d even recognize him if you saw him today. I could tell you all the things Father did to him, but…” Will shrugs.

But it’s a gruesome and horrifying story, no doubt.

I shake my head, but I’m dizzy. I was holding my breath. I suck in lungfuls of air and slide down the wall once more. What the fuck…

My front door opens, and Storm walks in. He sees my brother first, who has no reaction. He must have known he was coming. Storm turns to me, gathers me against him, and lifts me to my feet. I hide in his arms, trying to calm my racing thoughts.

“Perfect timing. She’s a mess. I was just explaining Eli’s escape,” Will says, always so fucking casual. You’d think he’d learn some tact. I look up at Storm, he must be shocked.

“Won’t your father be pissed?” Storm asks, and Will shrugs. I frown. Wait. Storm doesn’t even react…

“Probably. But he’ll get over it.” Will straightens his shirt, looking around the room. “I tried to lie, but she called me out.” My brother shrugs, and Storm’s hold on me tightens. “Besides, we can’t have her resisting our protection. You know how stubborn she can be.”

“Should have let me tell her. You’re too…you,” Storm scolds, and Will shrugs again.

“Should have gotten here when I told you to.”

“Just fuck off, I’ll handle this,” Storm snaps, and my brother smirks.

“You knew?” I whisper, pulling away from him. Storm looks down at me, his mouth popping open slightly.

“He told me the day you were taken. Before that, I thought he was dead. Your father asked me not to tell you. I wanted to, but I was worried you’d be scared. We’re not going to let anything happen to you,” Storm says, and I shake my head.

“You should have told me,” I whisper, feeling betrayed. They both should have… They never should have let me believe he was dead…

But, what good would knowing have done? I would have spent the last few years living in constant fear. Fear that one day my abuser would return.

He’s alive… Oh god, he’s alive, and he’s escaped.

I stumble away from Storm and head toward my bed. I lie down halfway there on my small couch and curl into a ball.

“We’ve got three men in the building. You don’t leave this apartment alone. Rocks, do you hear me? Rocks?”

I can hear Will calling me, but I don’t respond. I can’t.

* * *

Storm

“Leave her be, I’ll stay with her. She won’t be left alone.”

Will is my best friend. I’d kill for him. I already have, time and time again. But the fucker is stunted. He’s got the emotional intelligence of an alligator.

Once, in Cabo, we had to shoot our way out of a mansion filled with at least twenty men because he mouthed off to the leader of the gang, despite being warned to shut the fuck up several times. His father waterboarded us for three hours after that event. It cost him more money than I’m worth to clean that mess up. But I was his son’s best friend, and at least fifty percent of the reason the crazy fucker survived that day.

Right now, though, I’m considering choking him to death with my bare fucking hands. He knows his sister is sensitive. Ever since that day. Her uncle is the fucking catalyst. The trigger. He’s typically more careful with her.

“Now, fuck off,” I hiss, lifting Roxy off her couch and carrying her over to her bed. I lay her down and turn back to Will, who’s still standing by the door.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asks, and I cross my arms over my chest.

“What do you think?”

“That you might be signing your own death warrant.”

“And if she wants me?”

“I’ll try to talk him out of it.” He nods. “For her, and for all the times you had my back.”

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