Page 5 of Descent

Iwake up the next morning, eyes puffy, palms aching, and the sensitive flesh between my thighs is so fucking sore. Last night was what nightmares are made of. It was so much worse than I ever could have imagined for so many reasons. Even with the audience we had, it was a stark contrast to what I imagined it would be like. I didn’t anticipate him taking my virginity so savagely, so mercilessly, so heartlessly. I thought maybe he’d try to make it at least a little gentle.

Obviously, I thought wrong on every count because Asher Putnam turned out to be exactly who I always knew him to be. It was my mistake for believing that people could change, that I could see some good in him. In reality, he’s just a piece of shit.

“How are you?” Vincent asks from beside me.

I turn to face him, his silver eyes already trained on me.

“Good, you?” I ask with a forced smile.

His brows knit together in disbelief.

“No, I’m actually asking, Siren. Are you hurting?” he questions as his fingers reach out, tracing my palms.

I look down at the bandaged cut, before my eyes come to the branded hand. That one hurts a lot more, for sure. It’s a dull, burning pain that won’t subside. Honestly, I think it hurts more now than it did last night. The adrenaline and trauma of everything must have helped block some of it, but now? It’s terrible.

I only nod, not sure what there is to say. Yes, like hell, but it is what it is? The ugly discolored B, now marred into my palm forever, will never cease to be a reminder of the hell I went through last night. Of the hell that is to come. For a little bit, I was fooled into thinking that Asher and I could have a good life together. Maybe even a happy one. Now I’m beginning to wonder if I would have been better off letting them kill me last night. If more nights like that are in my future…I don’t know.

“Here,” Ronan says as he reaches over us, handing me two white pills and a bottle of water.

I don’t even ask what they are, happily taking any kind of relief that I can, before I pop them into my mouth and take a sip of water.

When I look to my right, I notice that Liam is gone.

“His dad called him this morning to meet with him,” Ronan says.

“Is that bad? Is everything okay?”

Ronan scratches his hand against his jaw, where more facial hair than normal is coming in.

“I don’t know, baby. I’m not sure if it was about last night or something else. If anyone should be questioned for their behavior, it would definitely be Vincent,” he says, as he looks down at my surly boyfriend.

His jaw is tense; he shrugs his shoulders like he doesn’t have a care in the world. It takes my eyes another moment to look around my room and notice something. All my stuff is gone. My dresser drawers are slightly ajar, all empty. I can see my walk-incloset from here, all racks looking as empty as they did the day I moved in.

“We took care of it for you while you were sleeping this morning,” Ronan says. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll drive you over to the house.”

The house. My new house. Asher’s house more like it.

A sinking feeling churns my stomach at the reminder that today is move-in day. That I’ll no longer have my own space. From now on, I’ll be in his space, with no way out.

“You’re coming too, right?” I ask as I look to Vincent, who gives me a remorseful shake of his head.

“It’s not safe right now, Siren. Especially with how I…lost control last night,” he says through clenched teeth, spearing Ronan with a heated look.

I feel myself physically deflate.

“So, I’m assuming that means you won’t be able to come over for a while to see me?”

“Fuck no,” he spits before his hand cups my cheek. “I’ll be there tonight, in your bed, waiting to hold you until morning.”

“But how? If you’re worried about people watching us or—”

His thumb comes to my lips, pausing my words as he pulls my lower lip down, letting it go with a bounce as he speaks.

“You let me worry about that. You just keep yourself safe for now, okay? I promise everything will be alright.”

“Okay,” I whisper softly, before his lips press against mine.

I’ll never not get butterflies when he kisses me. Every touch is filled with so much passion, so much desire. It’s as if he’s not truly living until he touches me, and when he does…magic.

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