Page 70 of Worth

I let out a sigh of relief, my eyes starting to slide closed with exhaustion. Just as they’re about to shut, I see Aiden’s attention dart away from me. Concern etches into his features, his jaw clenching and eyes crinkling. It’s enough to rouse me again and I turn my head while I try to blink away sleep.

Through half-lidded eyes, I see Zander, still kneeling in the same spot. He’s staring down at…I’m not sure. Maybe his hand or the floor where I’d been laying spread eagle a few moments ago. But that’s not what has my attention. It’s his body that has me jolting wide awake.

Zander’s torso and arms are littered with scars. Some are smaller, almost unnoticeable. But others—others are stacked with scar tissue. For as much skin as I can see, there isn’t a spot that isn’t marred with old wounds, including there on his ribcage—the same brand Aiden possesses.

I glance at Aiden and he looks down, the sorrow reflecting deeply in his eyes. He gives a small shrug. Not one of indifference; one of not knowing what to do.

Shaking, I roll onto my front, forcing my hands and knees to carry me. I crawl toward Zander, but he doesn’t notice me when I use him to pull myself upright in front of him.

“Hey,” I say softly, ducking my head and trying to get him to meet my eyes. But it’s like nobody’s home. Zander has left the building. His eyes are blank. If he wasn’t sitting up and breathing slow and deep, I would think that he was dead.

Up close, I can see the scars better. Gouges and slashes mar his golden skin and his barcode stands out on his arm. It makes my stomach roil as I study it all. Some of these scars are older than old. I wonder how many of these were inflicted on him when he was still a child. I understand, as I study him, why he wears what he does. The long sleeves and high collars hide his trauma from the world—almost as well as he hides from the discussion of it.

“These ones,” I murmur, pointing to the circular scars on my hip. “Damien put his cigar out on me one night, over and over. I was sixteen.”

Zander’s eyelashes flutter enough to let me know that he’s just below the surface. I only have to grab him.

“This one.” I point to single white slash that starts at those burn marks and travels diagonally down my thigh. The skin surrounding it is discolored, and looks wrinkled and delicate. “I was caned for allowing Damien’s friends to rape me, and he was so forceful, he split the skin with a single hit. I had done what I could to clean the wound and keep it clean, but it got infected anyway.

Zander blinks, wariness edging into his expression.

I pull my shirt off, leaving me in only my bra and socks. I shuffle around until my back is to him, still on my knees. “And these,” I say, sighing. “All of these little spots are from Damien’s friend he invited over a lot. He would bite me. Damien wouldn’t let him do it hard enough to seriously scar me, but hard enough tojustbreak the skin.”

I flinch as a hand touches my back, sliding along my spine, letting me know that Zander has come back from wherever he got trapped in his head. I can feel rage simmering in his touch and I know it’s because of what he’s seeing.

To anyone who didn’t know what to look for, they’d think my back was freckled.

Except that I have no freckles anywhere on me.

The freckles on my back are actually pigmentation that marks where each tooth cut into me and healed, and my back iscoveredin them. Hundreds of little tan spots that map out where Wade bit me once for every time Damien let him play with me. He would whisper in my ear when he was done marking me, so Damien couldn’t hear him, reminding me I wasn’t worth anything unlesshiscock was inside me.

Zander’s hand smooths over the entirety of my back, then snakes forward to my front. He slides his hand up over my bra, between my breasts, and grips my throat, his fingers pressing on my chin. He pulls me back until I’m leaning against him, my back to his front.

“Is he on your list?” Zander asks, his tone softer than I’ve ever heard it.

“My list?” I breathe, turning my head enough to peer up at him.

His fingers flex and tighten. “The man who bit you. Is he on your list of people you want revenge against?”

I furrow my brows. “How do you know I have—?”

“We all have a list, baby girl,” he interrupts. “The ones who have been hurt over and over always have a list. Is he on yours?”

“Yes,” I whisper. “He is.”

“Good,” Zander rumbles. “Because if he wasn’t, he was about to be on mine.”

A thrill runs through me at the thought. “He was?”

He doesn’t answer me, pulling me up with him as he stands, as Aiden moves around to stand in front of me. His hand falls away from my throat as they stare at each other, Aiden seeming to search for something before nodding.

“Good night, Kitten,” Aiden says, leaning forward to press a kiss to my forehead. With his lips still against my skin, he mouths, “I love you.”

“Night,” I murmur as he walks away. I turn my head to look at Zander, blinking when I see the look of raw panic as he watches Aiden disappear. He sees me studying him and his expression goes blank.

“Come on,” he says gruffly, pulling me toward the stairs. I let him, eyeing my discard clothes and shoes. Guess I’ll have to grab those in the morning.

Zander leads me up the stairs, past my room to his own. He leaves me standing in the middle of the space, disappearing into the bathroom. I hear him peeing, and then the sink runs. When he comes back a few moments later, I’m still standing where he left me, awkwardly looking around the bare walls and empty dresser top.

---