Page 29 of Shattered Lives

I stare at him like he’s sprouted a second head. “What are you talking about?”

“I assumed being stuck here with a cripple was cramping your sex life. I guess not. You did say you didn’t sleep because you weren’t in your own bed.”

What. The. Hell.

I take a deep breath, followed by another, closing my eyes.

This is not about me.

Breathe.

I open my eyes to find him watching me with a cold expression on his hard face. His open door catches my eye, and I cross the room to close it. Mark laughs, a cruel laugh, so unlike the warm chuckle I’ve always known. “What? Don’t want everyone hearing you’re a slut?”

Sharp pain twists in my chest. I know this is his head injury talking. The personality changes, the hostility, the anger – it’s a toxic sludge coursing through him, spilling out onto everyone around him. His medical team expects it. They see this stuff all the time.

But I’ve never seen this behavior from Mark, especially not directed at me. And calling me a slut? I panicked a few months ago because Blake ran his thumb over my cheek. I’m pretty sure sex is permanently off the table after what those bastards did to me.

I take a deep breath, returning to stand in front of him, keeping my voice even. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m sorry I was later than usual. I was waiting for the department store to open because I needed jeans. If I’d known you’d had a bad night, I’d have postponed my errands. And I assure you I wasn’t having sex. I don’t have a sex life, here or anywhere else.”

Contempt glints in his pale eyes. “No sex? You really think I’m a fucking idiot, don’t you? I’m the one that found you screwing every goddamned one of those fuckers.”

My heart pounds erratically as the room swims before my eyes. I try to take a deep breath, but breathing has become difficult. The familiar iron bands start tightening, and I force my words past numb lips. “I didn’t have a choice.” I look at him, pleading silently. “You know that.”

He shakes his head furiously. “You went with them.”

My mouth falls open. “It wasn’t like they offered an invitation, Mark. We were kidnapped.”

“You should have fought harder!” he roars. “You just let them take you!”

I find my voice as fury rushes over me. “I didn’t let anyone do anything!” I yell, matching his volume and intensity, stabbing the tabletop with one finger. “I fought those bastards with everything I had. I just wasn’t strong enough to stop them.” I turn away for a half second before whirling back. “You know, I already blame myself for being weak. I don’t need you blaming me too. Yeah, you found me getting screwed. I was strung up and unconscious. That’s called rape, asshole.” Shocked by my ferocity, I turn to one side, fighting to regain control of my emotions.

I sidestep reflexively at a sudden movement in the corner of my vision. Mark shoves the rolling table past me, and it crashes into the wall. The remaining coffee cup flies into the air before splattering everywhere.

I have to get out of here.

I’m picking up my shoulder bag when the door bangs open, bouncing off the wall and startling me. Stubbs strides into the room and pauses, giving me a quick once-over. I recognize that look. He’s scanning me for injuries.

“You okay?”

I nod once. “I’m going out.” I reach for the door handle.

“They were right! You really are a stupid cunt whore!” Mark explodes.

His coup de grâce.

The words rip through my soul. I freeze, paralyzed, unable to breathe. My purse slips off my shoulder and thuds to the floor.

I turn to meet his eyes, hoping to see remorse or shock or… something. Anything. There’s emotion there, but not what I’d hoped for. Cold eyes glitter with revulsion.

“Here,” Stubbs murmurs. He scoops up my purse and passes it to me. “I’ve got this.”

I barely make it to the stairwell three doors down.

MARK

How dare Charlie just waltz in here like that?

After all I’ve been through, all I’ve been worried about, how dare she?

---