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I stumble back, chest heaving. My hands are shaking. I look down at her–at what I just did–and shame slams into me like a freight train.

“Nettie…” My voice cracks.

She’s breathing hard, staring up at me with something between shock and fear. I can already see the marks my fingers are going to leave on her throat.

I feel sick.

But underneath the shame, buried so deep I hate myself for it, there’s relief. A bone-deep, terrifying relief. Like a pressure valve finally released after being screwed shut too tight.

“Hunter–” she starts, but I can’t look at her anymore. Can’t be here any longer.

I grab my clothes off the floor, pulling my joggers on with jerky, humiliated movements. Without another word, I storm out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind me so hard the frame rattles.

The cold night air hits me like a slap as I step outside, but it does nothing to cool the fire still raging under my skin. I lost control.

And I already want to do it again.

15

Damon

I pat Arianette down with a towel and get her dressed in one of my oversized hoodies and a pair of soft shorts. I move carefully, unsure of what kind of damage Hunter did to her–mentally or physically. Her body trembles slightly, which is enough to let me know that if I hadn’t gotten curious about what was taking her so long, I could have walked in too late.

“You okay?” I ask, watching as she tucks her hair into the silk bonnet.

She nods and reaches for a bottle of lotion and applies it to her arms and legs. The scent is intoxicating, mostly because it smells like the soft girl I’m falling hard for.

She doesn’t fight me when I help her into bed, pulling the heavy blankets up around her and tucking her in like she’s something precious I’m terrified of breaking. Leaning against the pillow, my gaze drops down to her mouth, to her lips still swollen from Hunter’s cock.

“I’m not mad,” she says softly. “I like it when Hunter is rough with me.”

I brush a damp strand of hair off her forehead and tuck it under the bonnet. “Rough is one thing, Doll Baby, but that went too far.”

Her lips are puffy, and I can already see the bruises forming on her throat–dark fingerprints where Hunter lost control. The sight makes something protective and angry twist in my chest.

“I asked him to do it,” she confesses, voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe,” I say, sitting on the edge of the bed, “but the problem is I’m not sure he knows how to stop once he starts and that’s where I come in–to keep everyone safe.”

She nods, but it’s clear she’s not really with me, her eyes glazing over as she sinks into her thoughts. That’s not where I want her to go–getting lost in her head. I run my hand gently down her arm and lift her hand to my mouth, kissing her knuckles.

“Stay with me, okay? Tell me what’s bothering you.”

Because I don’t think it’s Hunter being rough with her. I’ve seen how her body reacts to him. It’s why I intervened, she would’ve let him take it way too fucking far. She loves it.

She takes a deep breath. “What if…what if the reason I like it when Hunter’s rough with me is because of him.”

I frown. “Him?”

“Billy.”

Anger licks at my spine just hearing that son of a bitch’s name. “I’m not following.”

“What if he really did r…” She swallows over the word ‘rape.’ “Hurt me. What if my brain can’t remember it, but my body does?” Her voice almost vanishes. “What if that’s why I like it?”

That sound I just heard? It was my chest fucking cracking in two.

I drag her into my arms, so that she’s flush against my chest. “I want to tell you that there’s no way, but I can’t.” I hold her tighter, stroking my hand over her back. “I don’t know what Billy did, and neither do you. Maybe he was telling the truth. Maybe he was fucking with your head because he knew exactly where to hurt you. Until you get those memories back, we can’t know for sure.”