Page 66 of Ruthless Angel

I’d been having a lot of nightmares since my time with Brady. The situation could have been so much worse and likely was for so many others. Still, it lurked in the back of my mind, rising up through my subconscious to torment me.

While I did my best to focus on preparing for the new school year and living in each moment, I couldn’t shake the flashbacks. The memories of the needle plunging into my skin. The dizzying effects that came soon after. The sick sensation of Brady forcing his nasty dick into my mouth.

My laptop screen showed a list of my upcoming classes, including those I hadn’t completed over the summer. I’d been making a list of the books I needed while occasionally jumping over to a new tab with a super cute skirt I thought about buying myself as a treat. That wasn’t exactly what my student grant money was for, but it was only one skirt.

I sat upstairs in Daire’s room where it was the quietest. The guys were down in the living room with the TV blasting some action movie they’d wanted to watch. My phone pinged with a text from Raina as we discussed whether or not I should buy the skirt. She was an exuberant supporter of treating one’s self.

When I caught myself falling asleep with my laptop on my lap, I set it aside and arranged Daire’s pillows beneath my head. It wasn’t all that late yet. I wasn’t ready to sleep. Not with the nightmares that plagued me. Maybe I’d watch something quiet on the small TV mounted above his dresser.

I don’t recall falling asleep. Trying not to sleep more than I had to was starting to catch up with me. I fell hard into a deep slumber. One that trapped me in vicious memories.

Brady jabbing me with the needle, making me dopey and complacent. His hands on me as he roughly forced me to suck his cock. In my dream, I struggled to get away. Every movement felt so heavy. So impossible.

I tried to scream, but no sound came out. There was only helplessness as the drugs made me weak and motionless. I wanted to call for my Angels. They would save me. They had to.

They didn’t.

A hand on my shoulder brought me awake with a scream. I thrashed and fought until I realized it was Daire. He stood over me, his brow creased with worry.

“Clover? It’s okay, Angel. It’s me.”

The threads of the dream clung to me, making me slap his hand away as I scrambled across the bed, almost falling out the other side in my haste to escape him. A few silent tears streaked down my face as my chest heaved, struggling for breath.

Daire held up both hands and slowly backed out of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Then he was gone, disappearing down the stairs. I sat there quaking as I tried to get my bearings. Everything was fine. Daire wouldn’t hurt me like that. I was okay. I was safe.

Over and over I told myself that until it finally sank in. Once I was able to breathe properly, I left the room and went in search of him. There had been more in his eyes than worry. Guilt had flashed through them as he backed away. If Daire blamed himself for what happened to me, I had to know.

On the main floor, I found Cash and Blaze still watching television. No Daire. The basement door stood cracked open a few inches. A clear indication of where he’d gone.

I crept down the stairs, listening for any sound from below. The quiet that rose up to greet me was almost unbearable. The entire basement was plunged into darkness. No light at all. When I reached the bottom, I flicked on the light and turned to the left where the main room was located.

My gasp was the only sound. Daire sat on the couch with his knife in one hand. He used it to slowly cut deep grooves into the palm of his other hand.

“Oh my god! Daire, what are you doing?” I rushed over to him, pulling the knife from his grasp.

Not wanting to hold the bloody thing, I tossed it onto the table in front of him. Before he grabbed for it again, I took both of his hands in mine.

“I needed the release,” he said, staring at the knife where it had fallen. “I failed you, Clover. It’s my fault that Brady hurt you.”

My heart sank at his words. I sat heavily on the couch next to him, still holding his hands. Warm crimson drops fell from his wounds to spatter my leg. I wore pajama shorts, making most of my legs bare.

“Daire, no. It’s not your fault. How could it be? I put myself in Brady’s path when I took off with Raina. I should have listened to you, but it’s not my fault either. Brady is the bad guy here.” Turning his hand over, I studied his palm. The gashes were deep, spilling blood. My heart hurt.

“I’m a bad guy too,” he murmured, watching me with a predatory intensity. “You can’t ever forget that.”

“Stop it.” I shook my head, refusing to participate in his downward spiral. “You’re not. None of this is on you.”

“All I want to do is hurt you, Angel. I want to make you scream, and cry, and come. Not necessarily in that order. I’m fucked up. I know it. You know it too. Don’t try to paint me as the good guy here.” Daire’s gaze fell to where his blood dripped onto my thigh.

I didn’t know what to say to an admission like that. Daire had never hidden the darkness he carried. He was no saint. I knew that much firsthand. However, he was nothing like Brady. A man who preyed on others. Who used them for his own financial gain.

“Don’t,” I said, my tone hard, bringing his gaze back to me. “Don’t do this shit. You protected me from Zane and the man in the alley who tried to hurt me. You’ve done good things. You’re not all bad. You’re not fucked up.”

He glanced at the knife again, tilting his head to one side. “Then how come I’m thinking about shoving the hilt of that knife up your ass and making you scream?”

Knowing that he wanted me to confirm that he was a terrible guy, I said, “Stop trying to get a reaction out of me. I’mnot playing this game with you. I won’t tell you what you want to hear. I don’t think you’re a bad guy, Daire. You shouldn’t either.”

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