63
Franco
When I climb through Samantha’s window, there’s no sign of her.
I move toward the bedroom, and looking inside, I see her standing on her toes so she can put her luggage on the top shelf.
Christ, it’s good to see her.
I walk closer, and coming up behind her, I take hold of her hip.
“Oh Jesus,” she gasps before stumbling backward and colliding with my chest.
“Welcome home,” I say, my tone soft. I lean down until my mouth is by her ear. “I missed you.”
She turns around, and giving me a playful look of warning, she says, “Don’t sneak up on me. You’ll give me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, baby.”
She wraps her arms around my waist and says, “I missed you too.”
“I missed you more.” I lift my hands and brush my palms over her bare shoulders and arms. “You look beautiful in this dress.”
“I’m glad you like it.” She grins up at me. “I got it in Seattle.” My eyes search her face before I ask, “Did you have a nice time?”
“The best.” She turns around and closes the closet doors, then says, “I ate way too much food. The vacation did me a world of good.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
She comes to stand in front of me again. “How was your week?”
Fucking exhausting.
I shrug. “I kept busy with work.” I bring my hand to her face and brush a finger along her jaw. “What do you want to do tonight?”Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.
She pulls away from me and says, “I don’t know if it’s worth going through the list because it’s not helping. Even though I don’t get panic attacks with you, I still crap myself around other men.”
“All men?” I ask because she doesn’t lose her shit when I touch her as myself and not her mystery man.
She thinks for a moment, then mutters, “For some reason, I’m kind of okay with my boss. At least I was before…”
Samantha doesn’t have to finish the sentence. I know she’s talking about before the attack and finding out I’m one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra.
Wanting to help her deal with her demons, I say, “I think we should continue working through your list. You never know what might help.”
She nods then gestures at the bed. “I can always try lying down with you.”
I look at the light green covers with a leaf pattern printed on them. “How do you want to do this?”
“I’ll lie down first and close my eyes, then you can lie beside me. Don’t say anything. I just want to listen to you moving.”
“Okay.”
She kicks off her shoes, and I watch as she climbs onto the bed. She fixes her dress before she lies down, and taking a deep breath, she closes her eyes.
I give her a minute before moving closer and placing my knee on the bed.
My eyes stay locked on her face, looking for any sign that she’s panicking as I move into a lying position.
Samantha takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. She keeps her eyes shut for a bit longer, then opens them and turns her head to look at me.
“I think this is a waste of time. I’m comfortable with you, so I don’t think anything you do will make me panic.”
Turning onto my side, I prop my head on my hand and say, “Maybe it will help if you talk about what happened.”
She thinks about it for a moment, then admits, “It’s difficult. Every time I try, it’s as if I get transported back to it.”
“You were okay while Dante tattooed you because I was there. Give it a try.”
She turns onto her side and locks eyes with me. “Okay, but don’t get your hopes up.”
With my other hand, I take hold of hers and brush my thumb over her skin. Her gaze lowers to our joined hands, and she remains quiet.
My eyes drink in the sight of her beautiful face, and I’m so fucking happy she’s back. It’s been a long ten days without her.
I missed my wildcat at the office and my vulnerable kitten at night.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips again, then she says, “The domestic abuse isn’t what destroyed me. It’s what happened after I broke up with him.”
I know the fucker carved his name into her, so I’m bracing for the worst.
She’s quiet for a long while before she says, “I used to wake up in the mornings feeling like I had a hangover, even though I didn’t drink any alcohol. It happened for a couple of weeks.”
A frown forms on my forehead as I listen to her.
“I felt weird…as if I couldn’t connect with my body.”
Her eyebrows draw together, and her voice trembles as she says, “Turns out he was drugging me.”
Jesus Christ.
“I only found out because, for some reason, I came to after he drugged me.” She pauses, and I watch as she struggles to get the words out. “I couldn’t move or open my eyes. I couldn’t speak.”
Indescribable anger rushes through me until my heart races in my chest.
Fuck, I can’t even imagine how she must’ve felt being a prisoner in her own body.
“I was so scared,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. Her eyes dart to mine, and I see the horror and trauma she’s been forced to live with, trembling in her green irises.
It’s a blow to my heart, but what she tells me next grinds my soul to dust.
Samantha
As Todd climbs onto the bed, I’m unable to move a muscle or make a sound.
It feels like I’m a prisoner in my own body, and it makes me feel claustrophobic as panic and fear bleed through me.
There’s a sticky substance between my legs, and it has my stomach churning because I know what it means.
Todd had sex with me while I was unconscious.
He raped me.
My heartbeat speeds up as my mind races, putting all the puzzle pieces together.
For how long has he been drugging me? Since that first morning I woke up feeling like a bus ran me over?
I thought I was losing my mind.
I feel him crawl over my body again, and it makes every fiber of my being fill with disgust.
How many times has he raped me?
His hands roam over my breasts and down my side, then suddenly, I feel a sharp pain as something cuts into my skin.
Oh God. Stop!
“If you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t be forced to brand you,” he whispers. “Don’t worry. I’m going to carve your name over my ribs, as well.”
No!
The pain increases with every cut, and my heartbeat speeds up until it’s nothing but a terrifying flutter in my chest.
When he’s done and my side is on fire, I feel his tongue swipe over my skin to lick up my blood.
“Mmm…you taste so good.”
Jesus. He’s deranged.
While my mind reels from the nightmare I’m in, intense fear coats my skin because I don’t know what he’s going to do next.
Todd settles over my body, and I feel his erection between my legs, which makes my stomach roll violently while my soul cringes back from the disgust and degradation I’m forced to endure.
When he shoves himself inside me, it feels as if my soul is trying to detach itself from my body.
He lets out a groan. ‘Do you feel how good we fit together, Sam?’
I’m overcome with anger, hatred, and a broken feeling that keeps growing until it’s a gaping hole that sucks my mind into a world of darkness.
My body feels every thrust. My lungs breathe.
My heart beats.
My mind is consumed by the depravity that’s being inflicted on me.
He thrusts into me again, and my mind screams for him to stop. Another tear escapes from the corner of my eye and disappears into my hair.
‘I’ll never let you leave me. If you try, I’ll kill us both.’
Todd’s movements become choppy, and he starts to grunt like a pig before he comes inside me. His full weight bears down on me, and his breaths hit my ear.
“You’re such a good girl. Don’t move,” he taunts me.
The bed dips and I hear him walk to the restroom. When he comes back, he touches the cuts on my side, making them burn like fire.
“My turn.”
I hear him hiss and assume he’s carving my name on his skin. “See how much I love you, Sam? I’ve branded myself for you.” Leave! Please. Just leave me alone.
I feel the bed move again, and as he climbs on top of me, my mind screams. He begins to kiss me, his tongue and spit coating my lips, and I feel insanity take me as he rapes me again.