Page 38 of Worship

My cheek smarts—a bruise already rising. The mask she had in place is gone as she straightens her back and strokes the side of my face where she hit me. I cringe from her touch.

“I will prescribe some painkillers for that,” she says calmly, smoothing down her blouse. “Our session is over for today.”

Chapter Seventeen

Two Years Ago

Aweek has passed since being in Dawlin, and we’re back at the club. Blake went to the hospital after our return, the injuries Grady inflicted far worse than he thought. Three broken ribs and a fractured wrist. He was given medication and told to rest, which for once, he did. He hasn’t touched me since, and I’m glad because my own body gets a chance to heal from his brutality.

It wasn’t even an hour back when Milton was ordered to run an errand for Blake on his bike. He hasn’t been here all week, and while I don’t know why, his absence has my insides knotting. Because Milton holds a secret that could annihilate me.

He didn’t rat me out to Blake for attempting to run. He didn’t march me back by the scruff of my neck and reveal Blake’s dutiful whore tried to leg it the first chance she got. That night, he didn’t return me to the gazebo, where Blake and his motley crew were causing anarchy.

He took me to a campsite. A vast grassy field that was full of black tents in rows. Parking near the outskirts, furthest away from the festival itself and drunks making a ruckus, he’d shoved a sleeping bag at me from the compartment inside his bike.

His eyes grazed the area meticulously, though no one was around. The temperature had dropped, and my body shivered as I clutched the sleeping bag against my chest. Turning, he pulled another small bag from his bike and handed it to me. Using the headlight from his motorbike that was still on, I sighed in relief when fresh clothes sat inside—a long-sleeved black shirt, leggings, clean underwear, and fluffy socks.

“Florence,” Milton explained, and I made a mental note to thank her when I got back. “You can dress in that tent there.” He pointed to one behind me.

Nodding, I bent down to untie the laces on my boots, leaving them outside before peeling back the curtain of the tent and stepping inside. It was dark, though I managed to find a battery-powered lamp in the corner and switched it on. I got undressed awkwardly, not able to stand, the roof of the tent not high enough.

Already feeling better after changing, as I was rolling out my sleeping bag, a shuffle behind me made me jump. Glancing over my shoulder, Milton had removed hisDevil Hornsjacket and boots and was crawling inside with his own sleeping bag…and a pistol. Which only meant one thing. He was going to sleep in there with me.

Shimmying down into my sleeping bag, I watched as he rolled his out, eventually doing the same. Keeping a firm grip on the gun rested against his chest, he shut off the light and breathed out a long, deep breath.

There wasn’t anything to say, and yet, it was like a million unspoken words floated between us. I knew nothing about the man next to me, which didn’t make sense for me to feel this safe with him. Protected.

I knew he wouldn’t unzip my sleeping bag and force himself in next to me. He wouldn’t pull down my panties to have his wicked way with me just because we were alone. Hold me down and drive himself deep inside of me…

I swallowed hard, my body getting weirdly hot and insides tickly. What the hell was Ithinking?

“You should sleep.” The sound of his voice made my entire body jump. He knew I was still awake. Thank God he didn’t know why. “No one will mess with us.”

No,but I was thinking about you messing with me.

“Do you always sleep with a gun?”

He grunted. “Yes.”

Does Blake know you’re sharing a tent with me?I wanted to ask next but didn’t because I already knew that answer.No.

“Where is Blake?” I couldn’t help but ask, worried if he decided to appear out of nowhere.

“Passed out.”

I nibbled my lower lip, not sure how to phrase my next question. “And he doesn’t…”

“No, he doesn’t.” It surprised me that he understood what I meant to say, and my lungs deflated with relief that Blake didn’t know where we were.

“Thank you,” I say quietly, not sure if he heard me or not, but meaning every word.

He wouldn’t find me tonight. Closing my eyes, I drifted to sleep quickly, happy to have a place to sleep that night. I woke the next morning well-rested, unable to remember the last time I slept that well, and I knew that was thanks to Milton.

As I glanced over to see if he was still sleeping, I sat up when I saw Milton was no longer next to me. Crawling out of my sleeping bag, I poked my head out of the tent. He was outside with Nicolas, talking about something I only caught the end of. “—to leave today. Jerome stood him up. I’m going ahead to clean up. You follow with the bitch.”

“And what about the rest of them?” Milton asked, and Nicolas shook his head, neither of them noticing me yet.

“They’ll stay for the whole weekend. I’m getting him out of here before some catch wind he’s broken up.”

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