Page 59 of The Fox

“I can still feel the way they took what wasn’t theirs to have.”

I see the instant I lose her to the pain of her past. Her eyes remind me of the way she blank stares during a panic attack, and I move until I can kneel at her feet. If I have to pull her from the depths, I will.

“My legs were s-shoved open. I kicked so hard but they were stronger. I was weak, Ro. I couldn’t get them off.” A dark look crosses her face. “One pinned my shoulders to the same table my father had led from. Another pawed at my chest, the pain from his fingers only adding to the way it felt when Rafe thrust into me. I bucked against him and all there w-wa-was laughter.”

I want to ask who Rafe is, but honestly, it doesn’t matter. He’ll die regardless.

A single tear falls from her eyes, and her tongue darts to chase it. A slumping of her shoulders is the only clue I have to what comes next. I lightly run my hands along the back of her calves, hoping to ground her to me.

“It never stopped. Their fingertips bruised me, harshly and deeply. It was never ending. And no matter how I fought, no matter how loud I screamed, it didn’t matter. Thrust after thrust, they used me, until one man remained.” Amelia swallows hard, giving her head a shake as it drops.

“You don’t have to do this,kochanie. You don’t need to open this door, baby.” I am trying my best to save her from the pain, desperately giving her an out. She works her jaw, nostrils flaring with the deepest inhale.

“Santiago was my papa’s Underboss,” she says, tilting her head back to the ceiling, and I watch as the tears fall freely. “I considered him an uncle, Rhodes. The man helped raise me when my mom died.” I close my eyes, my stomach dropping at her words.

“By that point, I was exhausted. They’d fucked the fight out of me. I laid there while Santigo raped me. Gods, the malicious satisfaction in his eyes haunts me. Ilethim do that to me, Ro. I stopped fucking fighting. I fucking let them rape me because I felt an obligation to take over. That somehow, my choice would make my father proud.” Her breath quickens and I grasp her hands, running my thumb along their backs.

“Baby,” I whisper.

“When the men were finished taking what they were owed, Santiago reached for my father’s ring. I remember the flicker of a flame, and then nothing but white-hot pain on my sternum.”

They branded her.

“No sooner had that pain had ebbed, another flash of heat hit my ribs. My left hip. The soft part of my breast.” Amelia releases a breath, the weight of what she is giving me heavily reflected. Her face contorts as she yanks her hands from mine before picking at one black painted nail. I reach for them again, doing everything I can to soothe her, when all I want is to hunt the men who’d destroyed her.

“It wasn’t enough. I wasn’t broken yet, you see. There were only four brands and there are six Mafia families.”

My voice is soft as I ask a question I’m not sure I want the answer to.

“Where are the remaining two brands,kochanie?” Her eyes drift to mine, and the hurt reflected back to me is heavily laced with shame.

Just get through this, pretty girl, and I’ll bring you back to the light, I swear.

“Um, Sa-Santiago pinned my knees to the table and had two of the men hold my hips. O-one brand burned above my p-p-p-pussy, right at my bikini line.” Amelia rolls her lips, ripping the delicate flesh as she continues. “A-a-nd just before I passed out from the pain, a flash of pain was at my groin. The searing of my flesh was nothing compared to the scream that ripped from my throat as my world went black.”

She moves to wipe her face and I beat her to it. My hands gently wipe the tears from her cheeks, those grey eyes clear and yet heavy with questions. My strongkochanie. Six brands, delivered by her father’s ring, then imprinted by his men who had sworn to protect her, were scattered on her beautiful body. Everything makes sense now. Her skittishness, the way her body would tense when I’d go to push her clothing away from her skin.

Her hesitation to be mine.

“What happened when you came to, Amelia?” I ask, morbid curiosity taming my need to eliminate those that’d hurt her.

“Duncan found me. He got me to Parker. As much as I wanted to be clean, I just wanted my best friend. I just wanted to sleep.” Her left eye twitches. “After a while, I came to accept what had happened.”

‘I’ll kill them for what they did to you,kochanie.”

A morose smile is at the corners of her lips, mixing with her tears. “But I also vowed to make the six men pay. So, while other Dons would spend their first year establishing loyalty and setting up house, I hunted. I retreated deep into The Fox, no longer allowing anyone to see Amelia Conte. One by one, I sliced the skin of those who thought I owed them my body. I saved Santiago for last.”

Of course you did, baby.

“And then, I shoved that ring into the back of my dresser. I will never wear it.” I glance at the signet laying on the carpet, and I want to bury it six feet under.

“Why do you keep it?”

“Because it reminds me of my duty. My obligation.”

My head tilts at the firmness in her voice. Amelia doesn’t have an obligation to anyone but herself. I run my hands along her thighs, a plan forming in my head.

“What do you need right now to make this bearable?” Amelia considers me carefully. I know she’s looking for rage or pity, but she will find neither. I will not let her see that side of me and pity is the last thing I feel when it comes to her.

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