Page 44 of The Lies We Believe

Her grasp loosened, and a whimper slithered through my parted lips at the loss. The sound of something being dragged was so loud, my ears felt like they were about to burst.

“I’m not going anywhere. I was just getting a chair, as my old legs don’t hold me up as long as they used to. I’m Marianne, by the way, not sure you remember from when you first opened your eyes.”

Marianne chattered away, trying to calm me down. Slowly, the high-pitched beeping receded. I assumed I was in a hospital, although I had no recollection of how I got here, and I didn’t feel comfortable enough to ask.

“Do you think you can open your eyes now?”

I must have drifted off as my racing heart finally steadied. When I opened my eyes, the hazy world around me sharpened. The once-blinding light overhead had softened, and the blinds were drawn, blocking out most of the daylight, though a faint glow seeped around the edges. The sharp scent of antiseptic and bleach burned my nose, anchoring me to the sterile space. Slowly, Marianne’s figure solidified in front of me. Her brown hair, streaked with gray, framed softly aged features, but hergolden eyes gleamed with a surprising vitality that seemed almost out of place in this washed-out room.

A cool cloth dabbed my flushed face before she brushed my hair back from where it clung to my forehead. “You’re back again.” She chuckled. “Do you think you can tell me your name?”

My eyes darted from side to side, and a wave of nausea rushed over me. I pitched forward automatically, my free hand going to my stomach as it churned. Black dots spotted my vision as the pain increased.

“Stay still. You’ve been hurt quite badly, young man. We had to give you a sedative so the doctor could treat you and clean you up.” Alarm must have shone in my eyes, and my lips pinched into a tight line. “You weren’t bad enough to need surgery, but your legs needed a lot of attention. It took a couple of hours to get all the glass out and dress them. You were very lucky. There should be very little scarring.”

Her words triggered a flashback of me kneeling on shattered glass as a figure loomed over me.

“Do you think I don’t know where you’ve been? Hmmm?” Booted feet stood on my legs, forcing me down into the glass. “I’ve known your every move, River.” Fingers sunk into my hair and wrenched my head backward. “I’ll let you live to serve as a warning.” Fists crashed into my chest. “Others won’t be as lucky, but I think your life hanging in the balance will be enough of a warning.” A heavily ringed hand backhanded my face, the metal clasps peeling off my skin. “Tell Benson this is his only chance.” Her hot breath ghosted over my face, and it took everything in me not to throw up. “If he keeps coming for me…” Her sinister smile shone in the darkness. “I’ll tell the brothers where you are and let them enact their fantasy.” She pinched my cheek, making blood spill from the wounds. “It’s only been my word keeping them from fulfilling it. I know they told youwhat they wanted to do. I’ll let them if he doesn’t stop coming for me. Then I’ll tell them to end him, too.”

“Dr. Morris is on his way. I’ll wake you when he gets here. Just rest for now.” I’m not sure if I dipped my head to my chest or not before I was floating again.

When I next opened my eyes, the golden light surrounding the window had deepened to an orange hue that made me think of sunsets and lakes, the wind on my face, and muscular tattooed arms wrapped around me. Of harsh kisses that melted my bones and bruised my lips. Of safety and desire.

The sound of a softly murmured discussion reached my ears, but I couldn’t turn my head enough to see where the sound was coming from. I vaguely recognized one of the voices, but I was too spaced out to work out where from. The voices grew louder, footsteps on the hard linoleum floor echoing in the silence of my room. A sharp inhale made me freeze like a statue as Montoya’s face appeared in front of me, her lips pinched in a tight line, her brows furrowed.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me. He’s going to be pissed when he sees you, kid. They gave you one hell of a beating, huh?”

What the hell was she doing here? I had no idea what was going on, and I couldn’t even ask, since my voice was trapped in my head again. Inside, I was screaming, clawing at my skull, but nothing but a wobbly breathy exhale left my lips as words died on my tongue.

“He’s going to lose it when he sees the state you’re in. Fuck.” Her eyes ran over every exposed inch of me, cataloging a multitude of injuries I couldn’t feel right now. It transported me back to a night I was paraded around naked and plugged, while men touched, slapped, and groped me. I was just a toy for them to play with.

Hearing Montoya’s voice in the background as the images played in my mind fucked with my heart. I sucked in a shuddering inhale, pain seeping through my veins like mercury. I blinked up at her through a glassy haze as a loud sound threw me back into the room. She sighed heavily and plopped down on the chair next to me, staying in my field of vision. Her elegant hand ran across her mouth like she was thinking about what to say as resignation swam in her weighted gaze.

“I know you don’t like me, River, but please listen to me. I know Benson well…”

The fond familiarity in her voice was like a blunt knife to my humiliated heart. A tear slipped from the corner of my eye and down my cheek at the mention of his name. My chest squeezed tight as memories of the last time I saw him assaulted me. She looked at me with sympathy in her dark brown eyes, like there was some kind of kinship between us. I hated her for every minute she had gotten to spend in his presence that I hadn’t over the years. I’d rather gouge her eyes out with a rusty fork than willingly listen to her, but I was trapped in the bed, unable to move or breathe.

“I know he fucked up.”

Not where I was expecting her to go with this. She smirked at me. The look on my face must have given me away.

“Yeah, I bet you thought I was going to tell you to stay the fuck away from him, right?” She shook her head. “He’s like a brother, always looking out for me. He told me everything.” My eyes widened in alarm, and she waved me off. “Well, not every-everything, but enough. He knows he fucked up. Benson doesn’t always think before he speaks, especially where his heart is concerned.” She chuckled. “He’s a good guy, and what happened between you two messed him up, big time. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

My breaths shallowed, coming in short, sharp pants. She reached over, taking my hand in one of hers before wrapping the other one around it, cocooning me in her hold. I wanted to hate it on principle, but I felt her sincerity in the gesture.

“Stop whatever you’re thinking.”

I screwed my eyes shut, pushing more tears down my cheeks. My lips trembled. I wanted her to beg him to come back to me and not throw me away. I’d been discarded like trash too many times and was terrified the only person who had ever felt safe—like home—wanted nothing to do with me.

“River, stop,” she ordered. “He’s not angry or disgusted with you. He feels like he fucked up. Like he used you, just like every other guy has in your life. It’s eating away at him. He’s had a shit forty-eight hours. This, coupled with the case we’re working on.” She shook her head, her thumb rubbing soothing circles across the back of my hand. “He’s sorry, alright? Just hear him out, kid. Please.”

I chewed on my bottom lip as her words rolled around in my head. Bane felt guilty? Like he’d used me? It just didn’t make sense. What did he have to feel guilty for? All I was good at was giving pleasure to others; it was all I had to offer. I’d only wanted to make him feel good, like he did for me, but I didn’t know how else to show him.

All I was good for was being a hole, so that’s what I did.

I’d heard him groaning and calling out my name while I laid in my bed, and it was like an unconscious tether pulled me toward him. There was a need to make the things he voiced real, because I wanted him to feel good. Bane deserved everything good in this world. He was a one in a million kind of guy, and I was… I was nothing. A no one. I had nothing to offer him. I wasn’t normal.

Not worthy of him.

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