Page 24 of Savage Hunter

God, I don’t want to hurt like this anymore. When will it end? The same dream night after night and it always has the same outcome. I reach for Wolfe but his words are as fleeting as his touch. Nothing but whispers. It’s been too long since I’ve heard his voice or felt his actual touch.

And I never will again. How could he have survived fighting off so many men? It would have been impossible. But my heart hopes. Even if I can’t have the man I love.

Let him be alive finding peace somewhere in this world. It’s my daily prayer.

I throw the blankets from my body and sit up. On the outside everything is the same. No one would ever know I spent months in hell at the mercy of the men my mother sold me to.

“Careful with the Primrose girl.”

It was said so often it felt engraved on my forehead. Society members were told not to damage the merchandise and then told to enjoy.

Men might not have beaten me, but the invisible chains around my ankles and wrists hold me prisoner even now.

Inside, that is where the damage hides from sight. Jagged shards of my soul lay discarded with no hope of ever putting the pieces back together again.

With all the tossing, my night shorts have ridden up high. I draw my nails down my thighs wishing I could claw out all memories of unwanted hands touching my skin.

Icy fingers dig into my chest and pry me open, letting all my demons out to swarm me from all sides. “No.” I whisper into the empty room and rock in place. “Don’t let them touch you.” I draw my knees close to my chest and hug them tightly. Tears burn trails down my cheeks.

Acid washes against the back of my throat. Disgust grips my stomach and not for the first time I feel like throwing up.

Inhale.

Hold. I’m not crazy.

Exhale.

“It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.” Using a monumental amount of strength I pry my head off my knees and take in my room.

“Bed, bathroom, closet. Clothes.”

The second my eyes touch on something that makes me feel positive I call it out, using a technique to ground my raging mind. One by one the shadows scraping away my will to live fade into the shadowed corners where the sunshine can’t reach them.

“Laptop, phone, boots.”

I flick my lip piercing back and forth and with each movement I feel more human and less like I'm going to go off the deep end.

Another deep breath and I throw my legs over the side of the bed.

I can’t keep going on like this. I’m slowly dying from the constant feeling of loss. One vicious night after another erodes at my core. How long before I just don’t wake up one morning? Can someone die of a broken heart? It feels like it is.

There’s a light knock at the door. I’m tempted to wrap myself inside my blankets and fall back to sleep. In my dreams is where he lives and that is where I would rather be. There I can be the untainted version of myself.

The knock comes again and I resign myself to putting a smile on my face for the sake of others. I owe my life to the people living under the Savage roof. To one man in particular. Ares. He’s the president of the Sons of Bratva Savages and the man who bought me from the Society. He saved me the night he saved his bride-to-be, Nova.

I don’t miss the irony of it taking an evil act in order to do good, but I promise Ares might be morally gray in all things, but his heart is in the right place.

Loyalty forces me across the room. I wince at the sight of my reflection in a floor-length mirror and God; I need help. I drag my bedsheet off and toss it over the offensive sight. I’m not vain, but… just ugh. Waterlogged rodents look better than I currently do. There’s nothing I can do against the bedhead in the time I take to get to my door. But I can at least straighten my camisole and night shorts to where it doesn’t look like I battled a demon and lost.

I suck in a calming breath and hope my face doesn’t announce the heartache chiseling away at my life force.

“Coming.” I open my bedroom door expecting Fergie, the mother hen of the roost only to find a sleepy Nova smiling at me instead.

“You overslept too, huh?”

“Ugh, did I?” I don’t feel like I got five minutes of rest. I look at the clock and it’s nearly noon. Damn. I drop my head against the door frame. “I’m sorry, Nova. Do you still wanna go crib shopping?” We’ve tried to stay distracted with the crew out looking for Rage. I don’t know what has gotten into the man but he’s been missing for nearly three weeks now.

Nova shakes her head and waves my words off. “Think nothing of it. I just got up too. I think we might have to stop trying to plan things before one in the afternoon for the foreseeable future.”

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