Page 23 of Broken Promises
“Do you have a copy of it?”
She nodded, reached into the box, and pulled out her birth certificate. Skimming it, I didn’t see anything out of sorts, but it was a photocopy, so the original needed to be inspected.
Another paper she handed me was a handwritten letter. The more I read, the angrier I got. I turned it over to hide the words as I stroked her cheek softly. “I’m so sorry you had to live through that. I just wish we could’ve gotten there sooner to stop it from happening.”
The letter was her account of what she’d experienced while she was in the house we rescued her from. It included small things she noticed, conversations she overheard, names of people she’d encountered, and physical descriptions of them filled the page.
“My therapist said writing down what I remembered would help, but truthfully, I felt worse afterward,” Hannah admitted, swiping under her eyes to remove the tears that fell.
Reaching into my pocket, I knew this was the right time for what I’d retrieved, so I pulled out the baggie and handed it to her. She looked at it and back to me before asking, “Is that a joint?”
“Yes, and unless you’re completely against using it, I’d like for you to see if it helps calm you down. There are some difficult things we need to talk about, and I don’t want to upset you any more than I already have.” I paused before adding, “And I need for you to explain why you think you’re no good for me, because I heard your admission last night as you were falling asleep.”
Hannah shook her head and took the joint from me before lighting the end. She inhaled and blew the smoke into the air as she said something that made me want to kill the fucker who hurt her and destroy anyone connected.
“You deserve someone who isn’t a slut.”
“Who called you a slut?” I roared at an elevated tone before lowering my voice and asking nicely, “Who said that to you? Because they’re a dead man.”
“The man who . . . he said I was a slut because . . .”
“Why, baby? Please tell me,” I whispered as I left my chair and kneeled next to hers.
She looked out at the empty yard instead of at me as she softly replied. “I . . . finished . . . during . . . I didn’t want to, but it happened.”
She didn’t need to say anything else. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her close to me as she began to cry. As she purged the pain from her soul, I whispered words of how strong she was, how she did nothing wrong, and how she couldn’t let his words affect her. She couldn’t help the physiological reactions her body had to her attack, and if it was the last thing I did, I was going to wipe every memory of that stupid fucker from her mind and replace them with memories of me worshipping her. And Iwould make sure the next time she finished, it would be with my tongue between her legs.
Chapter 10
Hannah
Finally admitting to someone my greatest shame from my attack was cathartic. If Rhys was going to walk out, it would have been after that, and when he pulled me into his warm chest, reassuring me with his whispered words, I fell a little harder for him.
When he released me, he retook his seat and scooted closer so he could hold my hand. “I need to say a few things, and I need you to listen, okay?” I nodded, so he exhaled before he continued. “I’ve been around quite a few women who survived what you did, and the first thing I want to say is you have nothing to be ashamed about. The body reacts to different things in different ways, and that in no way indicates you somehow wanted it or were asking for it, so please, don’t blame yourself.”
“How can I not?” I asked then took a swallow of my coffee.
“Because that would give power to the ugliness he was trying to resurrect into the world. He wanted to get into your head, and he used what your body did involuntarily against you. But he can’t hurt you anymore, either. You did exactly what you had to do to survive, so don’t think you could’ve somehow stopped what happened.”
“It was only because Rylee said not to fight, and something about the way she said it struck deep.”
“Rylee, unfortunately, had already been through it, and it was because Lucian had warned her that she survived too. I’m sad to say there are a few women in my life who survived theSyndicate, but I swear, no matter what, no one else will have to endure what you did.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I’m going to get to the bottom of it, figure out who’s behind all this bullshit, and I’m going to kill them,” Rhys calmly explained, but I could see madness dancing behind his brown eyes. He paused then asked, “Do you feel up to talking about the days leading up to you being rescued?”
“Yes,” I replied before releasing his hand and picking up the barely touched joint from the table.
He offered a tight smile as I lit it and inhaled deeply, hoping to numb some of the pain I knew was about to be resurrected. But if it meant stopping those horrible people and destroying the last of Sergey’s hold on me, I’d talk about whatever he wanted. I’d never felt comfortable sharing details of my life, but something about Rhys was familiar, like we’d known each other forever, so telling him my darkest secrets wasn’t as hard as one would think.
For the next hour, we discussed what I saw, who I spoke with, what I heard, and how I was treated while I was with those people. Periodically, Rhys would lean over and kiss me softly, resting his forehead against mine. It was grounding me, and I think it was doing the same for him. There were a few times I could see his anger rising, so I’d slow down and try to smooth the edges without leaving anything out.
“And the man with the black hair wasn’t at the dinner?” he asked, and I shook my head as I finished my third cup of coffee.
“I saw him the first day I was there, but I don’t remember seeing him that night. Is that important?” I asked, and he shrugged.
“Why don’t you make us another cup of coffee while I make a quick call.”
