Page 105 of Heartless Legacy

“Whatever Finn. Just because you didn’t know how to treat me doesn’t mean Pax doesn’t.”

He says, “I think my treatment of you was adequate.”

“Adequate? It was pathetic and crude. You had no respect for me.”

“And Pax does?”

“He takes me shopping. We have dinners. We do things couples are supposed to do. You should take notes for your next companion.”

“Notice the word you used. Companion. I treated you just the way the oath said I should. If not better, because there are plenty of companions being loaned out. Not that anyone would have wanted your uptight ass. As for the dinners and shopping, I’m well versed in those things. I did them frequently. My girl had no complaints.”

His lips twist to one side. “I lied. She had one complaint, but that was about me being shackled to you, so she made it her mission to make me cum so hard I forgot you existed.” He shakes in his seat like he’s cumming just from the memory of what she did to him.

I can totally fucking relate. Eloise scoffs. “You’re talking about that whore?”

Finn smiles. “One wo-man’s whore is another man’severything.”

Eloise lets out a disdainful sniff. “Don’t you mean she cost you everything?”

“I said what I meant. For her, I’d do anything. Give up everything. Be anyone she needs me to be, just to put that smile.” He points to where Thea’s sitting, smiling at Connor. “On her face.”

Finn’s own smile slips. “So if that means cutting you up into little pieces, burning your body to ash and sprinkling you off her favorite rock over the ocean, butt ass naked with the cops waiting to cart me away, I’m happy to do it.”

Eloise mumbles something under her breath, too soft for me to hear. Holden drops his tray on the table, then straightens, going completely still. He’s staring right at Eloise. His voice is deceptively calm when he says, “Say that again.”

“Say what?” Her gaze darts to mine. I didn’t hear what she said, but I’m willing to bet it’s something she shouldn’t have.

Chapter 63

Thea

Destruction surrounds me. The once white walls are painted red. I stand in the middle of the carnage, the embodiment of the monster they made me. A hysterical laugh bubbles out of me, as I move to stand over the man who liked to yank my chains, forcing the cuffs to cut into my ankle so badly that I swore he’d reach bone before it could ever fully heal.

I hadn’t planned to do more than sit back and watch while the Phoenix agents took care of him. I told myself I just needed to see his face when they captured him, and that would be justice enough. But I was wrong. I wassowrong.

I tell him, “I didn’t think I’d be able to stay standing if I had to come this close to you. I was wondering what it would feel like. If a part of me would feel free. Now I know.”

His eyes widen as I push my baklava down. I don’t need to hide my face. He’ll never tell anyone what happened, because he’ll be locked away for a long, long time. Even if he gets free, who will he tell without having to reveal what he did to me? What I’m sure he’s done to so many patients over the years in service to Dr. Psycho.

“I have a friend who likes chains, too.” I say, softly. “Only his lock to overhead meat hooks. He pulls them tight, suspendinghis clients by their wrists, while he practices drawing.” I try to picture Finn and what he’d do with this guy. “Some might say it’s barbaric, but I’m starting to see the appeal.” Shaking my head, I say, “That’s his thing, and I don’t want to borrow his technique without permission. I’m not sure I’d do it justice.”

I nod towards the two mercenaries. “I havea lotof anger. Childhood trauma and all that. I used to work that out in the ring. I like MMA. Did you know that? I used to fight for money in underground fight rings and was pretty good too. I haven’t been able to do that since our time together.”

I inhale, fighting through the tightness in my chest. “You see, I’m having sensory issues. Between being forced to take a beating, and then being drugged into thinking I’m fighting, ruined that hobby for me.”

The guys hold his hands, forcing him against the wall. “Now this isn’t a fair fight, and ordinarily I loathe cheating, but I’m still dealing with those pesky ass flashbacks.” I explain. “I struggle with being touched, so I have to have utter and complete control or I get a little.Triggered.” I flash my knife. “Nobody likes a triggered Thea.”

I hand my knife to the agent on the left. I have more, but that one was a gift from Alexz. It slices through everything with barely any pressure. This man needs to be questioned. I don’t want to risk slitting his throat.

“My therapist. God bless her, believes alternative immersion therapy might be the best treatment to help me recover. Now, I was already against therapistsbeforeyour boss fucked with my head. So you can imagine my thoughts about therapy now. But her? She tries to work with me, and my reluctance to accept help, and I’mtryingto do the work, because my boyfriend deserves to have the best version of me. I can’t be my best self if he can’t touch me without me freaking out, and I like him touching me. So…”

I strip off my gloves. My hands have gotten soft, and this is gonna hurt like a bitch. I’ll deal with the pain and the split knuckles, because I need this. I need to do this. Rolling my neck, I say the words that make my stomach heave. “Shall we get started?”

I scream, fighting through the spasm of fear that cuts through me even though I’m the one who spoke those words, sending my fist into his face. My body tenses as soon as my hand connects with his jaw. I breathe through it. Reminding myself that he’s the one subdued. He can’t touch me. I hit him again. Then again. In his chest. His stomach. His face. Over and over, I channel my anger, panic, and terror into my fists. I let my mind go back to those days. To the helplessness and hopelessness I felt. To the memory of trying to fight when I couldn’t physically do so. I do what I’ve struggled not to do since being rescued. I turn into the savage animal they kept chained.

I unleash every promise I ever made to myself about what I’d do to him if I ever got the chance. I’m panting and crying. One more hit. I just need one more hit. I tell myself one more hit will fix it. Will fixme.

“LaReaux.” My arms are tired, but I can do one more hit. I ignore the man calling my name. I’m not Thea. I’m not LaReaux. I’m nobody but the patient they played with. The commodity put on display over and over again, the thing given to the man who only took pleasure in mentally tormenting me. My body would have healed. I would have dealt with being sexually violated if that’s what they’d have chosen to do. But this… cracking my mind so that the rest of my body acts counter to what I want. Will I ever fully recover from that?

---