“Jack!” Camile screams at the Prez. “Stop him.”
Jack waits a beat longer than needed before he hauls Ace off Rook. I wonder if Rook’s place in the club will even be tenable after this. Will Jack want him gone? After all, we don’t yet know what Rook’s story is, but we know he was listening in on one of our meetings and then he vanished and somehow ended up with Camile. He went against club rules and acted on his own. No wonder everyone is pissed at him. Everyone except Camile.
“Listen to me.” Camile’s voice is hoarse, and it wavers a little, but her words are firm. “You, listen to me, Ace.”She walks up to him and pokes him in the chest. “And you.” She does the same to Jack. “And most of all, Rook, you listen.”
When they’re all looking at her, with varying levels of sheepishness on their faces, she puts her hands on her hips. “Rook saved me. I have no doubt that if he hadn’t done what he did, then those men would have raped me. He saved me from that, and he saved me from being killed. Rook did nothing wrong. In fact… what happened to him was, in my opinion, way worse than what happened to me. That’s not my story to tell, but it was horrific. So, Ace, if you beat him up, you’ll never touch me again, do you hear? And Jack, make your debrief quick because I want Rook to come and spend some time with me. We’ve just been through hell together.”
Then she runs her fingers through her hair and grimaces. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I’ve got to go and wash off the remains of the men who actually did want to hurt me.”
She turns and, head high, walks toward the house she’s staying in. I follow her, glancing back at the men and mouthing,knock it off.
Camile reaches the house, with me hot on her heels, and I follow her inside. I kick the door shut behind me. The strength of her soul that she’s just demonstrated has taken everything out of her, and she collapses forward onto her hands and knees. Her shoulders heave as she retches bile and water onto the floor.
Crouching beside her, I stroke her back and hold her hair as she lets it all out.
After she’s caught her breath, I pick her up in my arms, carry her through the house to the bathroom, and turn the shower on.
“You’ll want a shower first,” I tell her. “To wash it all off, then soak in the bath.”
“You sound as if you know what I’ve been through,” she says bitterly.
I hold her gaze. “I do.”
“What?”
“I was held, for over two weeks, by the enemy, and their torture methods weren’t restricted to beatings and psychological ploys.”
Her mouth opens slightly in shock as realization dawns. “God, Ghost, I’m sorry.”
“And I’m sorry that you’ve had to experience this now, too. It’s the worst thing that can happen to a person.” She starts to cry. “You don’t understand.” Her sobs increase. “I’m fucked up, broken. I didn’t react normally. Even with all those men watching, I still…”
She doesn’t need to say the words. I understand.
I gently take hold of her chin, tipping it up. “There is no right or wrong way to react. Did you know that sometimes, when we’re in great danger, our bodies respond with arousal? Sometimes, when we’re attacked, assaulted, well, our bodies can respond as if we’re enjoying it. It’s a protective mechanism. There’s no proper way to respond.”
“I don’t think it was as bad for me,” she says quietly. “I did have agency. I told Rook to do it, and I let myself give in to the moment. But I hate that I let them see.”
“Why?” I ask her sincerely. “You showed them they didn’t win. Like I said, there’s no right or wrong in those situations, Camile. Only survival.”
“The worst bit was after me and Rook, when they…” Big fat tears roll down her cheeks. “They made me feel likenothing. As if I wasn’t even human.”
Not caring that she’s covered in cum, dirt, and has been sick, I pull her into me and hold her tight as she sobs so hard my shirt grows wet.
And as she cries in my arms, that hole in the ice that I’ve built around my heart widens a little more.
17
CAMILE
When I’ve finally managedto stop crying, I let Ghost unwrap me from the blanket and slip the borrowed shirt off my shoulders. I don’t care if he sees me naked. I trust him completely, which is odd, as I don’t know him as well as the others. He’s always slightly apart, holding himself back, and now I think I know why. He’s told me that he’s also been through hell, and I will never tell anyone else. That’s between me and him.
Carefully, I step under the flow of water, the temperature set hot enough to scald them from my skin.
Ghost turns to leave, and panic flutters up inside me.
“No, stay. Please.” If I’m left alone, I’ll crack completely. “Can you… can you talk to me? While I… while I wash them off me?”
“I’m not sure I’m the best conversationalist,” he says with a self-deprecating chuckle.
