I’m in the ambulance. How did I get back here? The EMT is dabbing at tears on her cheeks. How’d she get here?
Coach shakes his head at me, and his face twists, eyes morphing to coal. “None of them made it. I’m sorry. They’re gone.” His glower adopts a more pointed sneer. “Rena didn’t make it.”
“What did you say?” I scrub my hands over my face.Why was she here? She wouldn’t be. No. No. No. There’s still time. I can make it.“That’s a lie! Where the fuck is she? Rena!”
He just stares, wordless. But those eyes—Steve’s eyes. He’s gloating. The bastard raped her. He stole her innocence, like theirs. I rip the surgical forceps off the wall and plunge it into his heart.
“Ty! Ty, wake up! You’re okay.”
I spring upright. My fists are gripping something. Rena’s tank top.
“Oh, fuck, baby.” My breaths are too stilted to speak smoothly. Wheezes whistle from my lungs as I inspect her up and down for bruises, patting her everywhere. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she says, but there are tears streaming down her cheeks, so I don’t believe her.
“I’m so sorry.” My hands cup her precious face, and my tumultuous heartbeat plagues my speech. “Jesus, I’m so sorry, baby girl. What did I—”
“Ty, you didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. But you …” She sucks in some air, composing herself as she reaches around my hold on her jaw to wipe her wet cheeks. “What the hell happened to you?” Those wet fingertips move to my forehead, feathering over my skin to brush back a rogue curl.
Exhaling, I peck her nose. The salty tear beaded on the tip soaks into my lip. Relieved she’s unharmed, I lie back down to settle my racing pulse. That’s also the instant I realize that she’s straddling me, her cunt lined up perfectly with my dick. Fuck, I wish that were for a different circumstance.
“Talk to me,” she urges. It isn’t soft or tentative, like I’d have expected. Again, that could be so fucking hot in other scenarios.
“Bad dream. That’s all.” I squeeze her thighs.
Her tiny shorts are hiked up to her hips. All that stands between my fingers and the forbidden is a few more inches and a thin scrap of fabric. Maybe two if she’s wearing panties. Perilous. I can smell her, but I steady my breathing and try to push that to the back of my mind.
“That wasn’t a bad dream,” she insists. “That was … terror.”
It must be dawn. An orangish glow illuminates her, almost giving her complexion the shade it has in summertime, when she spends her days by the pool. Her hair is a tangled mess, a pink-and-blonde lion’s mane. And I can still feel the way her pillowy lips felt pressed to mine, the way her tongue moved, fluid and eager. Hungry yet seeking my command. It just about killed me to pull away.
“You were so distraught,” she continues, her voice suddenly small. Broken. “Who’s Ella? And what language was that?”
I sigh and cover half my face with my forearm. If I refuse to answer, she’ll jump to conclusions. “Pashto. And Ella was my sister.”
Her brows knit in confusion. “And Audrey? Also a sister?” She doesn’t assign past tense to that, so she can evidently read a room. But the questions still loiter in the space between us.
“Yes.”I lower my arm back to her leg, skating my thumb over her satiny skin.
I don’t want to talk about them. To tell her how I had the chance to save them and didn’t. To admit how one cowardly choice ruined countless lives. Rena looks at me like I’m invincible, like I could hand her the heavens. As much as I need to convince her to stay away from me, I also don’t want her to know that KORT and her brothers aren’t the only factors in that argument.
Hell is all I’ve ever had to offer.
But I can’t bear to reveal that now, to watch the torch she holds for me be snuffed out.
Maybe that’s why I discard my resolve from a few hours ago and say something I shouldn’t. “You’re wet, baby girl. I can feel you.”
She is. She’s leaking onto my boxers. Must’ve had a better dream than I did or maybe being frightened did it. I’d love to know what makes her tick. What her fantasies are. How she likes to be touched. She mentioned choking. I’m not sure I could carry that out. Risk hurting her. If that’s what she needed, I’d figure it out. Do my research. I may even be eager to watch her gorgeous eyes flutter before she erupted with pleasure.
“No. I’m … not. I’m worried about you.” Her gaze flicks downward, avoiding me. She’s shyer than she claims to be. Growing up with brothers who run a casino and a sex club exposed her to enough that she talks a big game, but I don’t think she feels that brazen.
“Shh.” I skim my fingers over her thighs, relishing the bumps sprouting on them. I much prefer the direction I’m steering this conversation to the one she is, so I don’t detour. “There’s nothingto worry about. I’m exactly where I want to be, and you’re all riled up. Needy.”
She shakes her head, still averting eye contact.
“Look at me,” I order, abandoning her leg to clutch her chin. “Don’t do that. Don’t hide. That’s not how this works with us.”
“Us?” She slants her head, an indignant smirk hitching up one corner of her lips. “Did I miss a discussion while I was sleeping? Is there an us?”
