Page 63 of Resist

“To shower,” I reply. “I can still feel him—” I swallow. “A shower.”

“You guys go wash. We’ll make some food and drinks and set up some beds down here. We’ll sleep together tonight, okay?” Strike goes to hit my arm before pulling his hand back at the last second. “Fox,” he says, and I meet his gaze. “We are right here, brother. You don’t ever need to be hesitant with us. We’re family, and we love you. We just want you to be safe and happy, okay?”

When I look into his eyes, I don’t see pity or shame. I see nothing but concern, so I nod.

“Come on, baby, let’s shower.” Ryker leads me upstairs. He even climbs into the shower with me, and when I start scrubbing my skin, needing to get the lingering touch of his hands and mouth off me, Ryker takes over. He washes me gently, kissing the red, raw skin. I stand still, letting him take care of me, my heart still pounding from earlier.

I’ve never been as scared as I was tonight. I couldn’t move or fight him off. For all my strength, for all my size, I was helpless. If Ryker hadn’t shown up when he did, it would have been a lot worse than it was, but even still . . . I remember his hands touching me like I was his to do with as he pleased. I remember the fear coursing through me as he caressed and kissed me, ready to use my body like it was his right. For all my terror and disgust, my body reacted, and shame filled me.

The moment Ryker walked in and I saw the heartbreak in his eyes, that shame and fear tripled. Even now, I’m terrified he’s going to disappear.

“Talk to me, baby. What can I do?” he asks when he finishes washing me. “What do you need?”

“Just you,” I reply, and it’s true. I just want him with me. I don’t want him to disappear.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he promises as he searches my gaze, his hair slicked from the water. The look in his eyes makes the words flow out.

“I should have done something more, fought harder,” I whisper, but Ryker covers my mouth.

“Don’t even speak that bullshit,” he snaps before his voice softens. “What you endured is not your fault, no matter what happened or what you’re feeling. I need you to understand that. He’s a fucked-up monster who did this to you. Nothing else matters. What he did was horrendous, and you are a victim, baby, and we are so sorry you went through this.” He cups my face, searching my gaze. “You know that, don’t you? It wasn’t your fault, Fox. None of it was. You did so fucking good, baby. You’re so strong and brave, and I’m so proud of you.”

Something about those words makes me want to cry again, but I’m sick of crying. As Ryker stares at me like he can heal every part of me with his love, I know I won’t be alone in dealing with this. I expected the way he looked at me to change, but if anything, the love in his eyes is only stronger.

“You still love me? You still want me?” I whisper.

“Always,” he replies, gripping my cheeks so I pay attention to him. “Nothing could ever make me love or want you less, Fox. If anything, I love you more. You’re so fucking brave, baby. Stop blaming yourself, okay? Stop worrying about how I’ll react. Look at me. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be at your side forever.”

Nodding, I close my eyes and let my body relax under his ministrations as he tries to wipe away Theo’s touch. I know what others might say—why does it matter, we had sex before. We are exes. My body reacted. It was just fun.

The truth is I didn’t want it.

I didn’t want him, and he didn’t care.

It’s fucked up, and that’s what it boils down to.

He tried to rape me. He tried to take away my choice, and I’ll never forgive him for that or for the way he makes me feel now.

“Come on, baby.” Ryker turns the water off and helps me out. He gently dries me, placing kisses over the marks Theo made that I can’t bear to look at. I still feel weak from the drugs, and the doctor said that’s normal, but it doesn’t explain the agony in my heart as I look at Ryker.

When he’s done, he brings me some sweatpants and helps me into them, and then he lifts a shirt over my head. I let him do whatever he wants, and when the shirt settles, tighter than my others, I glance down and realize it’s his. As I breathe in his familiar scent, I relax further. Sitting me down on the toilet, he puts my socks on my feet before grabbing the hair dryer and kneeling between my legs. He dries my hair and braids it back before smiling at me.

“Perfect, as always,” he remarks then kisses me softly, replacing the hurt with love. “Come on.” Taking my hand, he leads me downstairs, and we find the living room is transformed.

I don’t know where they found all this stuff in the short time we were upstairs, but there’s a canvas tent, which I’m pretty sure we put up outside, the sofas have been moved, and blankets, pillows, and duvets overflow it. String lights hang everywhere, keeping the space bright and cheerful. The table is filled with junk food and sealed bottles of juice and water. The TV has an old action film I love paused on the screen, and Strike and Dash wait in pajamas, smiling at us.

“Come on.” Strike pats the duvet. “You need to rest.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep,” I murmur.

“So don’t.” Dash shrugs. “We’ll watch movies until you can.”

Ryker waits, letting me decide, and I hold his hand as I climb into the pit they created. Ryker follows me and wraps us in aduvet as I lean into the cushions, watching the TV as they hit play and settle around us. Dash and Strike recline behind us as if to protect my back, and that makes my eyes well with tears once more.

“Thank you,” I say sometime later. My eyelids are heavy, and despite everything that has transpired, I’m tired.

“You never have to thank us, brother,” Strike replies softly. “This is what family is for.”

It’s then I realize just how much they truly are my family. My own didn’t really want me, and when the world turned against me and someone I used to love hurt me, they came for me . . . protected me.

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