“What the fuck?” Creed said as he dropped his gym bag and rushed over to me. Colt and Keelan were a second behind him.
Creed knelt in front of me. “Who am I fucking killing?” he asked.
Colt sat next to me on the couch and Keelan stood behind Creed. Knox was the last to make his way over.
My chin trembled and I clenched my teeth to make it stop. “I got a visit from Cassy’s father…” Just like I had with my uncle, I told them everything that had happened. I even told them about the text I’d gotten and how I’d thought it was from Mr. X. Creed had already known, but by the others’ shocked faces, it was safe to say he hadn’t told them.
“I called my uncle,” I said. “He’ll be here Monday.”
“You think he’ll be able to deal with the sheriff?” Colt asked.
“I do.”
“You need to stay here until your uncle arrives,” Keelan said. His tone brooked no argument. Both he and Knox had the same angry look on their faces.
I pointed to my bag by the front door. “I figured you’d say that. So I packed a bag.”
Colt ran his hand up and down my back. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Got any whiskey?” I joked.
“You can have a beer,” Knox said.
My brows threatened to touch my hairline. “I was kidding, but I’ll still take it.”
Knox nodded and headed for the kitchen.
“Are you hungry?” Keelan asked, his voice still sounding angry.
I stood from the couch and went to him. Wrapping my arms around his waist, I laid my cheek on his chest. It was the best way I could offer him comfort because yet again, I couldn’t tell him it was going to be alright. He didn’t hesitate to circle his arms around me, holding me tightly.
“Can we order in?” I asked.
“What are you craving, Shi?” Creed asked, standing and pulling out his phone.
“Can we get food from the diner delivered?”
Creed nodded and began ordering everything we liked on his phone.
Knox returned with five beers and handed one to everyone and we all took a seat on the couch. Every time I took a sip, the beer stung my lip. I touched the cut gently and winced.
“Does it hurt?” Colt asked, watching me.
I dropped my hand. “A little, but I’ve been hit harder.”
“By who?” Creed questioned, sounding as if he were ready to hunt down whoever it was.
I picked at the label on my beer bottle. “Mr. X.” I allowed my mind to peek at the forbidden corner of my brain and I looked at the memories of that moment. “He caught me when I was trying to escape,” I said and I noticed them all go still around me. I kept picking at the label as I continued. “I didn’t know how to defend myself then, but I fought the best I could. It didn’t do me any good. He still got me upstairs and dragged me to my bedroom. I screamed as loud as I could, hoping that the neighbors would hear me. They didn’t. I tried to grab on to something that would help stop me from getting any closer to my room, because I knew once he got me there, he’d rape me.” The image of Shayla’s body popped into my head and I took a drink. Not that it would help. It’d take more than one beer to make me feel better. “He dragged me past Shayla’s body in the hall.” I cleared my throat when it began to feel tight. “He dragged me through her blood. He purposely slowed so I would see her—see that she was dead. He did it to break me because the main reason I was fighting so hard to escape was to get her help.” I finished tearing off the label and I felt irritated that I didn't have something to focus on. I took another sip and leaned back against the couch. “Looking back now, it was stupid to think I even had a chance at saving her.”
“Why do you say that?” Knox asked and his brothers all gave him a look like he had done something wrong.
“He slit her throat right in front of me. She bled out so quickly there was just no way.” My voice was so factual and held zero emotion. “At the time—in the moment—I didn’t want to believe it.” I finished the rest of my beer with one last gulp. Colt took the empty bottle and label from my hands and replaced them with his, which was still full. I began picking at his label. “After dragging me past Shayla, Mr. X managed to get me in my room. He pulled me off the floor by my hair and I clawed his face. That pissed him off, so he backhanded me. He hit me so hard I blacked out, and when I came to, my wrists and ankles were tied to my bed.” I couldn’t say any more. I tried to back away from that corner of my mind, but it was hard. It tried to show me things I didn’t want to see. My hands began trembling uncontrollably and my stomach rolled. Next, I broke out in a cold sweat and I knew I was going to be sick. I stood from the couch and rushed to the bathroom. I barely made it to the toilet before all the beer I’d drunk came back up.