Page 83 of Saviors

“Have fun with your guys.” She said over her shoulder. I lifted my arm and gave her an uncoordinated wave.

Maverick’s hand landed on the floor on either side of my head. He smirked as he knelt above me. “We’ll have a lot of fun.”

His voice dripped with lust and promise. I tried to pry my lips apart to say something. To tell him ‘not now’. But my mouth was too dry to form words.

He was already dipping his head. His lips skimmed over my shoulder and towards my neck. I whimpered as hands gripped my hips. That’s when I realized Connor was kneeling between my spread legs.

I watched his blonde hair falling over his forehead as he bent forward to kiss the inch of exposed skin on my stomach. Instead of feeling soothing, my alcohol-soaked brain turned it into something else.

They weren’t touching me, but holding me down. They weren’t kissing me, but attacking. My chest constricted. Tears pricked at my eyes. But like I’d done so many times with Simon, I stayed still. Hoping if I didn’t move, it would all stop.

I felt the hot press of fingers into my stomach as he grasped my shorts and yanked them down. A sweat slicked palm wrapped around my throat. My heart slammed into it, trying to keep me alive.

“Stop.” I didn’t know if it was in my thoughts or if I’d said it out loud, but they kept going.

“Such a pretty little slut just waiting for us to use her.” Maverick nipped at my ear. My throat clogged. But I tried to shake it off. Images danced in my vision and I wasn’t sure whose voice was in my ear anymore.

“So perfect. Our girl.” Connor whispered against my skin as he kissed down my stomach.

I didn’t know if it was his lips or his words that sent me over the edge. But I suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t theirs.

“No!” I screamed as I shoved them off me. I scrambled to a sitting position. My back hit the couch, and I drew my knees to my chest. “I’m not. I’m not!”

I saw their shocked expression before I buried my face into my knees, hiding from them. From the panic attack I felt coming. I didn’t want it. I didn’t want to be this person.

But I couldn’t stop the tightening in my chest. I gasped, unable to suck in more than little bursts of oxygen. A cold sweat coated my skin. My limbs shook as I held them tighter.

“Violet.” Reid said my name, but it sounded like it was coming from a void. Like darkness was swallowing it up.

I didn’t want to hear anything he had to say, not even my name. I didn’t want their disappointment. Their rage. My palms slapped over my ears to drown out the sound.

“Little bloom? Did you want us to stop?” Connor’s voice pressed into my skull, but it was his hand on my knee that sent me into a fit.

I smacked at it as I pushed further into the couch, trying to get away. Didn’t they see what was happening? Of course, I wanted to stop. Why didn’t they notice that?

“She hasn’t said it.” My head was buried into my chest. My eyes shut tight, but I could feel Maverick’s breath on my skin as he drew closer.

Said what? I told them no. To stop. What else was I supposed to say? My drunk brain was warring with confusion and fear. A fear I knew wasn’t necessary, but I couldn’t be reasoned with right now. Nothing existed but the pounding of my heart and the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

It sent me back in time to when I wasn’t safe. Told me to run. Hide.

“Belladonna, what color is a stop sign?”

That’s when I remembered my word. “Red.”

Cool air hit my skin. My jaw was clenched tight, holding in the tears as I lifted my head. But instead of seeing them kneeling before me as I expected, they were across the room. Far enough away that they weren’t towering over me.

Connor’s brow was furrowed in concern as he picked up my shorts and held them out to me. My hand trembled as I reached for them. Once I grasped the fabric, he moved back to stand beside Maverick and Reid.

“Wh-what are you doing?” My voice wavered. My fingers curled into my clothes as I stared.

“You used the safe word.” I blinked at Reid. “Do you want us to stay and help you?”

“Help?”

I waited for some sign of annoyance. Anger that I’d had too much to drink. That I didn’t want to sleep with them. That I wasn’t as healed as I pretended to be.

“Are you too drunk to get to your room?” Connor asked. “Do you need anything? Water? Aspirin?”

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