Page 192 of Bad for Me

I lie back and draw the blanket over us, my mind too busy to fall asleep. When Wren wakes up, we’re going to have an honest and open conversation—about everything. I need to know what happened that day, and what her life has been like since. Then, I’m going to take her to meet Aidan. I want her to know the man who saved me and helped me become the man I am today.

After that, we’ve got plans to make. We’re going to take down the other three men, then go after Richard. I’ve allowed him to walk this earth for far too long—it’s time to put him down.

* * *

Soft footsteps ploddown the stairs, and I glance up from the kitchen table. I popped out to a local twenty-four-hour diner and grabbed breakfast while Wren slept. Not only is the kitchen not functional, but the appliances don’t work either, and there wasn’t a scrap of food to be found anywhere in the warehouse.

Wren’s steps slow, and she appears at the entrance. She’s donned thin sweats and a T-shirt that have seen better days, and left her hair a tangled mess. Sunlight pours in from the skylight, emphasizing her big blue eyes. If I had seen her up close and in better lighting earlier, I would have known who she was by them alone.

I push the chair back and walk over to her. She stares at me as if I’m a ghost, and I suppose I am. We both thought the other was dead, so being here together feels surreal. A single tear slides down her cheek, and I pull her into my arms. “Shh, little bird. It’s going to be all right.” Her fingers curl in my shirt, holding on to me like I might disappear again.

After a few minutes, she pushes away, her cheeks blooming rose. She refuses to meet my eye but gestures toward the table. “What’s all this?” Her husky voice stirs my cock, remembering how she screamed my name when I made her come.

“Breakfast. Come on and eat.”

She sits on the edge of the seat, her fingers plucking at the edge of her shirt. I fill her plate with eggs, bacon, pancakes, and toast, and set it in front of her, along with a tall glass of orange juice. She hesitates, then picks up a fork and begins to eat, hiding her face behind a waterfall of hair.

I let her eat in peace and remain silent while I shovel eggs into my mouth. Her gestures portray her nervousness, and it hits me that I don’t know what’s going on inside that head of hers. Is she scared? Embarrassed? Or does she regret what we did?

My fist tightens around my fork. She better not. I meant what I told her last night—I won’t let her go. So if she’s having doubts, she better get over them real quick. The thought of bending her over the table and spanking her until she begs me to fuck her makes my cock harden.

When her plate is half empty, she pushes it away and folds her hands on her lap. “They made me watch,” she whispers, her head still lowered. “They held me across the river where you wouldn’t see me. One of them covered my mouth so I couldn’t scream. And—” Her knuckles turn white as she exhales. “And then Richard threw you in the Aries. He laughed. Even above the sound of the rushing water, I heard him laugh when your body sank beneath the surface.”

My appetite dies, and I sit back in my chair as she continues her story in a broken voice. She tells me how after Richard drove away, the men forced her to her knees and made her give them oral. It was their payment for allowing her to witness her brother’s death.

“‘Now you have no one,’ they told me. ‘No one will save you, no one will look for you.’” Wren raises her head and pierces me with a haunted look. “I believed them, Sin. I watched you die. And then…then they sold me to Grammy Lockwood.”

She tells me about her years at the girls’ home located in an adjacent town. It was a front for prostitution and catered to men with particular tastes. “Some of them wanted children. Others wanted punching bags.” She stands and rips her T-shirt off before spinning around to show me her back. I hiss at the old striped scars and cigarette burns. How did I not notice them last night?

I leap to my feet, but Wren shakes her head and backs away. My jaw tics, but I incline my head and sit back down. It’s her story.Shut the fuck up and let her tell it. We can get names out of her later.

“It didn’t take me long to stop fighting. Grammy Lockwood was a thousand times worse than Richard.” Her trembling hand comes to the base of her neck, and her eyes fill with tears. “I-I don’t want to talk about her. Maybe another day.”

I hold my hand out, and my heart lifts when she takes it. She settles on my knee, and I wrap my arm around her waist. “Then, one day, my guardian angels came.” She tells me about the three women who busted in and liberated the girls. “They were magnificent. No hesitation, no remorse. They killed all the guards before hunting Grammy through the house. I helped them kill her.”

“Who are they? Your angels?”

She cuddles into my neck, and a shiver runs over her shoulders. “They work for a company called the Charon Group. They’re…I’m not sure how to describe them. They’re who you call if a family member has been kidnapped. Or if you need justice because the system has failed you. But Tessa, Dutch, and Rebecca, along with their husbands, specialize in taking down trafficking rings, abusers, and pedophiles.

“Grammy Lockwood’s Home For Girls ended up on their radar, and after they shut it down, they helped the others make new lives. But I didn’t want to move somewhere else. I wanted to come back here and get revenge for you, for all the children sold into slavery by the corrupt CPS agents. My guardian angels sparked something in me that day. I want to help others like they do, but I want to do it here.” She places a hand on my face and tilts my chin down. “So, I came back to where it all started. Back to where I lost my parents and my home. I came back for you.”

I lower my head and brush my lips over hers. She opens for me, and I keep the kiss gentle, languid. She’s opened up to me, and I don’t want to do anything that will scare her away.

After we break the kiss, I tell her my story. About how I almost gave up when the water closed over my head, because Richard had told me my sister was dead. She twists in my lap and wraps her arms around my neck as I describe meeting Aidan and how he saved me. How I learned and trained and became strong, so that I could avenge her death in the only way I knew how—through blood.

“Why The Carver?” she asks, her breath hot on my neck.

“Aidan saw something dark in me, and he used it to his advantage. He needed someone willing to do what needed to be done, and I was all too happy to volunteer—provided he could prove their guilt. I don’t hurt innocent people, Wren. I protect them. Even if that means I spill blood to do so. I won’t feel guilty for cleaning up the streets.”

“Good,” she says, startling me. “We can do it together.”

“You’ll stay with me? Even though I was once your brother?”

She chuckles. “Do I have an option? I thought you claimed me as yours.”

A low growl rumbles in my chest. “Damn fucking straight, you’re mine. Try to leave and see what happens. I dare you.”

Wren pushes me away, leaps off my lap, and races out of the kitchen.Oh, little stalker, you’re in trouble now.

---