Page 44 of The Devil's Daughter

I look up into his eyes, heart in my throat, and what I see there is confirmation of my unspoken question. But I can’t say it yet; it feels like it’s too soon for us to share those words. So I just kiss him and slide down under the covers, snuggling close.

22

Drake

I’m trappedin a never-ending hallway of doors with red lights over them. Each door has a video screen in the center displaying the inhabitants within, engaged in lurid sex. None of them are enjoying it. Some make a show, try to fake it, but they can’t hide the pain and despair in their eyes. They can’t hide the tears streaking their faces.

The second I stop to watch for too long, each face morphs into one I know. It’s Elle trapped in the room, forced to do unspeakable things with whomever is willing to pay for the privilege to fuck her. I’m drawn to every screen, but shame fills me each time I look, and I tear my eyes away, sick that I found it remotely arousing before moving to the next door, hoping to see a different scene, hoping to find just one door is unlocked so I can release her.

But it’s always the same. The same cycle of curiosity, arousal, and horror, followed by a deep, twisting nausea gripping my gut and no key to unlock any of the doors.

The world won’t let me turn around and run back the way I came, so I have no choice but to keep pushing forward, keep looking into the rooms, keep seeing her face. I can choose her, take her home, make her mine, but that can’t be the only way to save her. And what about the others? I can’t save them all. All the Elles trapped in cages like dogs.

I trudge on, tortured by the sounds of their cries mixed with the put-on pleasure noises some of them make. If I close my eyes, they sound like trapped, wounded animals, which is even worse. I should go back but the power to open the doors eludes me.

When I reach the end of the hallway, I’m facing down the barrel of a gun. Arturo Flores holds the grip, his finger on the trigger. His eyes blaze like hot coals and he sneers at me.

“No one is worthy of looking at my daughter, especially not a filthy pervert like you.”

The echo of the gunshot rings in my ears as I bolt upright out of sleep. I’m breathing hard, clutching at the bed.

“Drake?” Elle murmurs sleepily beside me, grabbing my hand. I realize I’ve been squeezing the hell out of her thigh and ease my grip.

“What the fuck?” one of the twins mutters—Baz, I think. He sits up and turns on the light. Beside him, Ben leans on one elbow, blinking.

“Bad dream?” Ben asks.

I heave a shuddering breath. My throat is too tight from the fresh horror of what my brain dredged up to speak, so I just nod. It isn’t an unfamiliar dream, except the ending was different this time.

“Want to talk about it?” Elle asks, rubbing my back.

I shake my head, unable to look at her. My eyes feel hot. My chest burns. When the spasms start, I’m unprepared, unable to stop them.

“Fuck,” Ben mutters, slipping down the bed to climb out at the foot. He rounds to my side. “Shove over, we got you,hermano.”

Elle wraps her arms around my shoulders as the first racking sob bursts forth and the tears come. She pulls me down against her soft body, scooting back and pulling me to the center of the bed with her, displacing Baz, who slips out silently. Ben spoons me from behind, his big arm tight around my chest. It constricts my breathing, but somehow the pressure comforts, makes it easier to breathe through the tears.

This is not me. I don’t break down. I haven’t shown an ounce of weakness since that day at the Kennel almost fifteen years ago. The dreams have haunted me since, but never to this degree. Maybe because I don’t oftensleepthis much in a single night. But for the first time I have something too precious to lose. More precious than my family’s legacy, the company my grandfather started and my father nearly destroyed.

I have Elle. And to some degree the twins too, though at this point I know I’m still working on building their trust.

It takes a few minutes for the images to fade from my mind, for Elle’s gentle words and caresses to purge the vileness. I bury my head against her throat, clinging to her.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay, Drake. I just want to help. Will you tell me what’s wrong?”

I become aware of something hard jabbing me in the back of my thigh and crane my head to peek at Ben. “Only if he’ll get his dick under control. I’m sorry, man, but I’m not really in the mood.”

Ben shifts his hips and reaches down between us, grimacing. “Sorry, it’s got a mind of its own. But you can’t blame me; sex worked for me when I woke up screaming.”

“Yeah, but your trauma wasn’taboutsex,” Elle says. “I think Drake’s is. Am I right?”

I hate admitting it, but I nod, then frown when I realize we’re missing someone. “Where’d Baz go? Did he leave?”

“I’m here. Just wanted to give you a little space,” Baz says from somewhere else in the room. I turn to see him sitting in the armchair in the corner, elbows on his knees. He’s wearing shorts now and holding a water glass, which he gets up and hands to me before settling on the edge of the bed near our feet. “Thought this might help. Also, I thinkbothof you need therapy. Toni has someone she likes. Maybe once all this is over, you two can be shrink buddies or something.”

Sitting up to drink, I narrow my eyes over the glass. After I swallow, I ask, “What about you? Didn’t you witness the same carnage Ben did?”

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