Page 34 of Fighting Conviction
“The same boy who kissed me, if you’ll believe it. He’s my self-defense trainer you like so much. I believe you said I should let him bend me over…”
“Hm, I still don’t know if he’s delicious or dickish. Spill, girl. I need more deets.”
“There’s not much to tell.” Ellie shrugged. “I don’t know what to do with him. He’s sweet… well, to me. He’s kinda… I don’t know… surly, maybe? He’s hot as heck. I like him, ya know? I think he likes me, too. But I’m worried now he thinks I’m… broken…” She sighed, thinking about her reaction the week before. “Maybe I am… like I said, I lost it when we tried to go farther than a kiss. You would’ve thought I was a blushing virgin.”
There was a snort in her mind. “Okay, I’mtechnicallystill a virgin, you’re right. But I’ve done pretty much everything else… sorta.” She rolled her eyes and chuckled to her friend. “Anyway, I’ve talked it over with my therapist, and I think I’ll be ready next time. Because let me tell ya, if he isn’t traumatized by my trauma then I wouldn’t mind using him to get that technicality outta the way. I just hope I didn’t screw it up or scare him away with my freak-out.”
“If he’s right for you, babe, he’ll be back around. Give that shit up to the universe. Let fate decide.”
“You always did believe in manifestation stuff.” She tried to ignore the cynic inside her that seethed when she thought of how her friend had trusted the universe, only to have the universe betray her by taking her too soon.
“Trust the universe, babe. Set your intentions!”
“I don’t want to fight with you, girl. Not on your birthday,” she teased and smiled before sobering at the next thought. “He’s the one… he’s the one who—” She swallowed back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her every time she remembered herself almost a year ago. The trauma she’d been through had created a different person. “He was the first one to reach me back then and the only one I remember during the rescue. He’s the one who saved me.”
More tears rolled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry he didn’t save you, too.” Her breath caught. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” Ellie brought her hand up to her aching chest, wishing her heart would go ahead and crack open the rest of the way to finally let her shame break free.
She’d never escape that darkness, though. Regret was a part of her now. When she saw her friend being beaten, raped, andmurdered, pain had burrowed inside her. It was a parasite, sucking the life out of her every day, despite all the hard work she put into trying to just live at all.
For months, Ellie’s therapist had tried to convince her that Ellie had been drugged and helpless to do anything for her friend or the rest of the women she was trapped with.
But there was a part of Ellie that knew the truth. That deep down, fear had ruled over her that night. Ellie had told everyone she couldn’t do anything. But that night, Ellie’s most terrible sin was she hadn’twantedto do anything.
It was a brief moment, all of it now seemed to have passed by in a hazy instant, but it’d felt like forever then. She’d been too afraid to move. Too afraid to cry out. Too afraid to have the same thing happening to Sasha, happen to her. But it was a damning conviction. Ellie hadn’t been helpless. She’d been a coward.
It was that part of herself she hated.
“That’s why I do what I do, ya know?” she explained, as if Sasha had been privy to her introspection. Heck, for all Ellie knew, she could be. “I help those victims who don’t have anyone else. Who think there’s no way out. I-I’m trying to be braver. Make up for my failure.” She sighed and held herself in a hug. “But, to be honest, it’s exhausting.”
Tired muscles screamed out at her, confirming her confession. Ellie tugged her legs close to wrap her arms around herself and lay her head on her knees. The cold breeze lifted her hair and Ellie closed her eyes with both gratitude and guilt for the chilly whispers pricking the few inches of bare skin exposed to the elements. Gratitude that she was alive to feel the bite of cold air at all, and guilt that Sasha never would again.
Chapter Twelve
The club’s pounding bass vibrated the pleather chair up through Devil’s arms and into his jaw. He scrubbed his beard hard, working his mouth open and shut to stop his teeth from grinding as he forced his eyes forward to watch the stage.
Anything to get his mind off the gorgeous blonde he’d traumatized the week before. He’d put off the two lessons they were supposed to have since then because he was too much of a coward to look into those innocent caramel eyes and see the hurt he’d caused. Becausehe’dlet his need for her make him lose control. That’s why when Phoenix had invited him to Original Sin, Devil jumped at the chance for a mind-numbing fuck.
He was waiting for just that while his usual request finished up her last set. His eyes wandered to the silver-haired vixen pushing her ass into his teammate’s lap. Charity turned to straddle Phoenix, moaning obnoxiously, like she was coming solely from him stroking her spine. Devil hated that fake shit. He didn’t need a woman to stroke his ego. Just his cock.
Phoenix winked at him and chuckled. “Wanna join, man? You look awful tense over there.”
Charity’s smile widened, her pointed teeth glinted in the strobe light. A demon succubus measuring up her prey. “Y’all can share me, Devil baby.”
Devil scowled before whipping his head back to the dancer on the stage. He’d shared with Phoenix once before but Devil had quickly realized threesomes with another alpha male weren’t his thing. He needed control in the bedroom and when Phoenix had tried to take over, it’d only pissed him off.
But even without that hang-up, there was no way in hell he’d ever fuck Charity. The woman was a conniving bitch at the best of times and he didn’t trust her not to brag about adding him to her client list. He didn’t need word of his extracurricular activities to get back to Ellie.
His chest hollowed out with guilt and he rubbed his sternum through his thin, black Henley. Goddamn, it hurt to see her upset. That plump pink lip trembling the last time he saw her fucking destroyed him. He hadn’t even been able to get a full sentence out. The onslaught of emotion he always kept tamped down and the overriding fear he’d fuck up his angel’s life was more than he could handle at the time.
Punching the window had been totally uncalled for but fuck him if it hadn’t felt good to fixate on the pain in his hand rather than the one in his chest.
Devil breathed in deeply despite the sickeningly overpowering scent of coconut, cocoa butter, and body odor. He relaxed knowing he didn’t need to be afraid of ruining any angel’s innocence at Original Sin.
Every dancer at the nicest strip club in Ashland County—whatever that meant—wore either white or black wings, calling themselves Sinners. Charity, Phoenix’s soon-to-be good time, always wore white with a silver wig, making her easy to remember even in a building full of beautiful women. Smart business move if you thought about it. Easier to remember, easier to request.
But the woman on stage doing anti-gravity shit on a pole was the one Devil wanted. Jezebel was a bartender and despite dancing not being her usual gig, every time he came around she made sure to be available for him.
They’d go to a confessional, a small private room, so it could be just the two of them. She was one of the few at Original Sin who was good with her mouth and didn’t run it. Devil wasn’t secretive about his conquests, but he didn’t like his business spread around town like Charity was liable to do. Good for her that Phoenix didn’t mind. Hell, he seemed to encourage it.
