Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen Ryder

There’san immediate shift in the room, a moment before all hell breaks loose.

Scar gets this lost look in her eyes and everything goes into slow motion. She doesn’t realize it yet, but all eyes are on her as her fingers tighten on whatever she has in her hands. Even Rachel pauses in her work as Scar picks up the discarded glass on the desk and brings it to her nose to smell.

There are no words to describe what happens next. The pain emanating from Scar as she launches first the glass across the room before moving in on Romano. My hands sweat and my heart races as I watch her drive the blade into his stomach.

Nothing about this is like her at all. Scar is always in control, even when she seems her most chaotic, she never releases her tightly wound hold on her control. Now, we know why.

I move forward, and Declan grabs my arm, preventing me from interfering with Scar, but that’s not who I’m after. I nudge him off and wrap my arm around Rachel’s elbow and slowly pull her out of Scar’s vicinity. She’s no longer aware of anything but Romano. None of us can know what to expect next.

Rachel turns wide eyes to me. Seeing Scar like this is a shock to all of us, but Rachel especially. She’s never seen Scar even the slightest bit broken, but here she is falling to pieces in front of us. Discarding the last remnants of the girl she once was as evidence of that past is scattered to the ground.

Luca grabs the first two polaroid photos as she discards them and my chest heaves with the pain of knowing what they contain. He doesn’t look at them, silently slipping them into his pocket as he keeps his eyes on Scar. There’s only three of them. I don’t know if she could bear anymore than that.

I’m not sure she can bear the three that she did find.

I meet Luca’s eyes, but he looks as helpless as I feel. It feels like that night in the van all over again. It happened so fucking quickly this time. Too fast for any of us to react. And now? Now, it’s already too late. She hasn’t realized it yet, but Romano is as good as dead.

Scar didn’t stop when her blade found its new home in his stomach. She’s completely gutted him, hitting probably every vital organ on her way. The raspy wet cough as he sputters to answer her questions makes me think she may have even nicked a lung.

He was too far gone to answer even a single question the moment she dug her blade in.

I can see the moment she realizes he’s gone, taking the answers she so desperately craves with him. For a second, I think she’s about to drop to the ground and cry but am startled when she jerks back, slipping in the blood. I catch her, tightly gripping her arms and setting her back on her feet. I whisper her name, but there’s a fog over her eyes. She isn’t focused on me. She isn’t focused on any of us. She’s still locked in her own world. Staring between the knife in her hand and the wound it created in Romano.

Tears and snot and blood run over her face. I try calling her name again as Kade and Luca step up to pull her out of the rapidly growing puddle of blood. But none of us reach her before she launches herself at his dead body all over again.

I hiss in surprise. Wanting so fucking desperately to be able to help her, but knowing there’s not a single thing I can do for her. She simultaneously got answers and lost the chance to them today. Faced the very worst moments in her life. Unexpectedly.

There’s no way to even begin to comprehend what is going through her head right now. She obviously needs to fill the desire to lash out, to hurt him as much as he hurt her. Even if he’s gone. It’s not like he deserves peace even in his death anyhow.

Even after his body is mutilated beyond recognition and her body shakes with her sobs, she still doesn’t react as we call out her name. Real fear pulses through me. What if we can’t reach her? What if facing her abuser has shredded the last piece of her. Shattered her all over again.

I want to believe in her. Trust in her strength, but as she falls to pieces in front of me, it’s hard to hold onto that. Scar is not the infallible leader we often see her as. She isn’t beyond hurt and failure. She’s stronger than anyone I know, but no one should have to live with and survive what she has had to cope with. I can’t blame her for breaking. I just hope she comes to enough that we can at least be there for her.

Thank fuck Noah cleared the desk of the journal and laptop already. Romano may be dead, but answers may still be found in what he left behind. Something I know is not on Scar’s mind as she flips his desk over. Picking things up at random and hurling them across the room.

Her rage begins to abate as her despair takes precedence. The sobs replace the screams as her hands find her hair and begin to pull. Immediately, I move in, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tightly to my chest. Her long nails sink into the skin on my arm at first as she thrashes in my hold.

“Shh, Scar baby,” I murmur. “It’s just me.” The rest of the guys and Rachel slowly move towards us, their hands raised in front of them, taking small measured steps. Her wild eyes bounce from one person to the next as they treat her like a wounded animal. Her body shakes as she collapses in my arms, her nails no longer digging into my skin but her fingers tightly latched onto me.

“Ryder,” she sobs.

Declan drops to his knees in front of her, brushing her hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ears. “Shh, pretty girl. We’re all here. We’ve all got you.”

Her body convulses with her sobs, making even my own frame shake with the force as I just hold onto her tightly. The last photo lay face up in the pool of blood next to us. My eyes lock on the horror that she lived. She’s stronger than I’ve ever given her credit for.

My eyes burn and my cheeks itch as tears trail down my face at the amount of damage they did to my girl. She was so young. So small. So different from the larger-than-life woman I’ve fallen in love with.

Rachel sniffles as she grabs the photo, wiping it on her pant leg before handing it to Luca. Never letting her eyes linger on it more than necessary out of respect for Scar. The only reason we even need them is because of the possibility they may hold clues to who else was there.

“Letty,” Luca’s deep voice barely rises above a whisper as he calls her attention. Her eyes drift up to lock on his steely ones. I’m shocked he’s able to hold it together as much as he has. “Let’s get you home.” The words come out in a hushed growl. Like it’s the most he can manage if he’s going to stay in control of himself. Kade is just behind him, in no better control of his emotions, his hands fisted at his side as his body trembles with unleashed rage.

She slowly nods but clings to me tighter. I rise slowly with her in my arms, cradling her against my chest. She seems so much smaller in this moment, more like the broken and defeated girl in the photo than the strong and brazen woman that had hoped this would be a trap.

It wasn’t what we expected at all. Romano was never supposed to be one of her abusers, just the man who had facilitated her abuse. Not any better; in a lot of ways, he’s a lot worse. But a different type of horror. Not her own personal demon that has stalked and haunted her for almost a decade. An abstract terror is easier to face, no matter how horrifying, than the hands of evil that have already dug into your body and stolen pieces of your soul.

The fight and life drains from her small frame as she trembles in my arms.

“Do we have an all clear?” Joe’s wary voice filters in through the comms. Fuck. What the last hour must have sounded like to everyone out of this room as Scar absolutely lost her shit.

“Romano’s dead,” I answer, my voice sounding just as dead. It doesn’t feel like enough. Not even with the torture Rachel did inflict on him. He died too fast. Too easily.

“Everyone else is okay,” Noah adds, answering what Joe was really looking for. I don’t think okay is the right word.

Kade must agree because he snorts. “No one is injured anyway.”

Tyler, Holden, and Asher wait in the hallway outside the office when we walk out. All three keep their eyes downcast, away from Scar’s fragile state, but standing guard.

Though no one asks, Holden explains, “We ran up when we heard her scream.”

“We figured out what happened pretty quickly from there,” Ty adds, a look of concern in his eyes as they drift down to her. Scar’s face is pressed against my chest, her eyes open but unseeing. She isn’t really here. Not right now. Too lost in the chaos of her own mind. How could she not be?

Asher studies her carefully, his eyes trailing over the blood covering her nearly from head to toe. “She gonna be okay?”

Kade nods and claps his hand down on his shoulder and squeezes. “Yeah, kid. She needed that.” If only his voice held as much certainty as his words did. “Did you find what you needed?”

Asher gives him a clipped nod. “Think so.”

Luca takes the lead, pulling his weapon out. “Keep us updated on what you discover,” he instructs Asher, who gives him a wary look. Luca must sense it because he sighs, giving in where he normally would push back. “She may have needed that,” he echoes Kade’s words, “but there are three more men she needs the names of more that we didn’t get today.”

His words weigh like a ton of bricks on my back. This isn’t over yet.

It’s only just begun.

* * *

Scar staysin a daze the entire way back to Asher’s place where he sets us up with our own apartment in his building. It isn’t as large as his, but spacious enough to be comfortable for our crew. Tyler hesitates as he says his goodbyes to all of us, his gaze lingering on where she still rests in my arms.

It’s Kade that finds the words to get him moving to catch his flight. Scar would want him back at his post. With Josie. He can do far more protecting her than watching Scar be vulnerable. Holden and Joe offer to take him and ensure he gets out of town and on his flight safely, leaving us alone for the first time.

Luca and Kade practically vibrate with their fury, sending anxious and uneasy glances at Scar as she remains unchecked from reality. I want to help them, but words escape me. I’ve never been the type to lead. I don’t have the right words, or know the next step. That’s always Scar. If not her, then Luca. But neither one is currently capable of seeing past their own immediate emotional turmoil.

“Go use the gym,” Declan instructs. His calm, steady voice, a soothing balm to my own disquiet. Both Kade and Luca look like they want to fight him on it, but all it takes is one pointed look at their clenched fists for them to concede. We all need to clear our heads, to reset from the bomb Scar dropped today. She needs us too.

We promised her that she could break, she could be weak, she could stumble along this journey because she has us. We would be her strength, her balance, her safe place in the storm of her trauma.

We can’t do that if we’re all breaking too.

Silent acknowledgement ripples through the five of us. Though none of us put it into words, I can feel their understanding in the heavy looks we all trade.

Noah clears his throat. “I’m going to get started on his computer.” Not only his way of helping her the best way he knows how, but I’ve come to see how he uses computers and algorithms and programs to get out of his head. To put his whole focus on something else so he can let go of the things holding him back.

Luca and Kade nod, grabbing a bag from off the couch before stalking silently out of the room to find the gym Asher told us about. They’ll both come back bruised and bloodied, but with less weight on their shoulders so they can help ease the burden of hers.

Declan studies me in the remaining silence and my grip tightens on Scar. Still unresponsive in my arms. Clueless to the happenings around her. I’m not leaving her. She’s all I need in this moment. To see her, feel her, be with her for the moment she comes out of this awful paralysis I can’t even begin to understand.

He tilts his head in acquiescence. “Let’s get her cleaned up and in bed.”

I’m thankful he included himself in the plan. It’s not something I would have been able to comfortably accomplish myself with the dead weight she has become. Declan washes and rinses her body, paying close attention to her hair as he scrubs the dried blood from it, while I hold her upright.

Together we manage to get her cleaned up and tucked into bed. She doesn’t fight us even a little bit, closing her eyes and allowing us to take control. A part of me believes she’s just turned everything off. Hidden from the realizations of today and the terrors of her past.

Slowly, her breathing evens out. Declan and I lay on either side of her, encasing her in our warmth, our hands resting against the places of her body where her skin is exposed. Her shoulder, her thigh, her chest, her stomach. Anywhere where she can feel us. Even as she slips into sleep, she needs to feel we haven’t left her. We’re still here. Still protecting her. Always supporting her.

Unlike other recent nights, when she wakes up, it isn’t a slow, arduous process of clearing the nightmares and becoming aware of her surroundings. She snaps awake, her eyes wild and filled with terror, a sheen of sweat over her skin, as her breath comes out in heavy pants.

Declan immediately begins soothing her, but she pushes his hands away, putting her head between her knees as she takes deep breaths in and out. My hand lands on her lower back and I can feel her body trembling under it. I rub circles into her skin and Declan kisses her temple, but she shakes her head.

“It doesn’t feel good.” My hand immediately stops and Declan withdraws. Scar normally thrives on gentle touches through and after her nightmares, they calm her, replace the horrifying memories.

“It hurts. Everything hurts.” The words are torn from her raw throat. A shiver runs down my back and my hands shake as that useless, helpless feeling rises again.

“What do you need?” Declan asks, his firm commanding tone once again forcing a calm through me. Through Scar too.

Her wide, green eyes lift and flick between the two of us. “Hurt me.”

I rear back as if she slapped me with her words. “What?” I ask in disbelief.

She nods her head, her eyes now filling with tears. “Hurt me,” she repeats in a whisper. “Replace the pain they branded me with with your own. Make me forget about my scars.” She huffs out a breath so full of resignation and defeat, I don’t know what to make of it. “Make me forget their touch. Please,” she begs.

I don’t know if I can. Not the way she means.

Pressing my lips against hers, I silence her words. I always want to give her what she needs, but this is something I don’t know that I’m capable of doing. Get rough with her? Sure. Spank her ass? Hell yes. But intentionally hurt her the way she’s asking? I wouldn’t even know where to start.

She pushes me back in a huff. “Not like that,” she snaps, a wild look in her eyes.“Fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like you want to destroy me.” Her words come out hard and desperate. So unlike how she normally speaks to any of us. It’s different from the needy moans that slip past her lips in the heights of her orgasm. There’s a fine tremble in her hands and I know she isn’t herself.

I let my eyes rove over her face and body and notice her pupils are blown for the first time. “Scar,” I whisper. She’s always so strong, so sure, I almost don’t know what to do when she seems just a hair’s breadth away from shattering all over again.

I never realized how fragile she really was until I saw her face her worst nightmares. Now she wants me to become one. Needs me to.

My eyes flick behind her to where Declan stands, watching the entire interaction with apprehension lining his every feature. He meets my eyes and gives me a slow nod. A silent promise he will stay, watch to make sure she’s okay, to make sure nothing I do goes too far. He’s always been best at reading her silent cues.

My decision is an impulsive, snap second. I thought I could never hurt her, but it turns out what I really can’t do is tell her no. I lean back into her space, this time instead of kissing her, I catch her lower lip between my teeth. Her eyes widen, and as I sink them in deeper, a spark of life enters her gaze. It emboldens me, eases my fear, and I increase the pressure until a sharp tang of blood rolls over my tongue. My instinct is to soothe it with my tongue, but I don’t. I pull her against me, kissing her fast and hard, the blood from her lip smearing over both of our lips.

Trailing my lips down her chin and neck, I leave bloodied marks as I go until I reach where her neck meets her shoulder. I sink my teeth into her skin, feeling the muscles tense. I bite her hard enough to bruise and her moan fuels a desire I wasn’t aware of having.

There’s no room here for tentative touches or gentle caresses. Only fast, hard, painful. My dick stirs in my pants as I wrap my hand around her throat and squeeze the sides and force her to look up at me. Desire burns there, vanquishing any remaining hesitations. I grip her pajama top in my fist and rip it from her body. The thin fabric of it shreds easily in my fist and I discard it on the floor. Her gorgeous tits sway with the force of the motion, but her nipples tighten as they’re exposed to the cool air.

Using my grip on her throat, I yank her to me and smash my mouth against hers. Wanting her lips swollen and sensitive. She gives in easily, her body and lips both pliable against me, moving wherever I direct her. No fight. No fear. No resistance.

I pull my knife from my pocket and cut her sleep shorts from her body without ever pulling away from her mouth. She whimpers against my lips and I take that moment to sink my teeth into her lower lip again, making the bleeding start again. Dropping my knife, I trail my free hand over her exposed skin, loving the way goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch.

She starts to pant as I put distance between us, releasing her throat, I force her to turn over. She lays flat on her stomach, her head resting on a pillow and turns her face to watch Declan at the side of the bed. I strip quickly, wrapping my hand around my dick and give it a few, slow pumps while I focus on her satin-covered ass. I like the way the dark color looks against her creamy skin.

It would look even better against red.

A crack fills the air as I bring my hand down sharply over one cheek. The strike hits directly over the line of her underwear. She cries out in surprise, her skin immediately reacting to the hard slap and rapidly turns a bright red. My eyes flick to Declan and he gives me a nod of reassurance. The sound she made didn’t give away whether she liked the smack or not, but something on her face must have.

My hands grip her hips to yank her ass up and put it on display. Declan slides a pillow under her and I bring my hand down against her ass several more times in rapid succession until both cheeks are bright in color.

I was right, the dark purple of her panties are stunning against the red. I decide to leave them on.

Sinking my fingers into her hair at the back of her neck, I pull her up until she’s on her elbows and knees. I keep one hand locked in her locks of hair, and use the other to slip her panties off to the side. I run my finger through her slit.

She’s wet, but not dripping. Not like how I normally take her. How we all normally do. There’s been much less foreplay, but isn’t that all part of what she wants? The pain of having to force my way into her.

Without hesitation, I do exactly that. She cries out as I bottom out in one hard thrust. She’s tight, and not wet enough, but she still feels good. I keep my eyes locked on Declan, trusting him entirely to be able to read her, to know her and not let me go too far.

I tighten my grip on her hair and feel her pussy spasm around my hard length. It eases my doubts, but I can’t tear my eyes away from D. I trust him more than myself in this moment. I pull out of her, and slam right back in, all the way to the base. This time, I slide in easier. Her wet heat welcoming me instead of fighting against me.

Some of the anxiety trickles away as I begin to read her body like I normally do. Her soft pants are music to my ears as I pick up the pace. Keeping it rough and brutal as she currently craves. The sound of flesh hitting flesh drives my needs higher. I pull her hair, making her cry out again and the sound is so sweet.

“More,” she begs. I tighten my grip and meet Declan’s eyes again before pointedly dropping my gaze to where his hard on is straining the front of his jeans. He tilts his head, this time he’s the one hesitating, but I nod in encouragement as I yank Scar’s head back.

I catch sight of her abused and swollen lips and grin. “Open that pretty mouth, babe.” She immediately complies and my dick twitches inside her, making me groan. Using my grip on her hair, I tilt her head to the side and beckon Declan forward with a tilt of my head. “Take Declan down that sexy throat like the good girl I know you are.”

He hesitates only for another moment, studying her face. Whatever he must see in her gaze evaporates all his doubts. Trusting her with herself now. He pushes his jeans down and I watch entranced and Scar licks over her split lip. He slides into her mouth and almost immediately her lip starts bleeding again.

The spark of pain makes her tighten around me and I groan, picking up my pace again. Declan follows my lead, sliding down her throat at the same pace as I drive into her. Blood slicks over his dick as it pours from the wound on her lip. But with each thrust, she grows more and more wet around me.

Keeping my hold on her hair tight, I use my free hand to reach around her front and begin to pluck and twist her nipples sharply. She cries out, but only a garbled sound escapes around D’s dick. He cuts her off as he pushes back into her throat and she gags, clamping down on me tightly. Fuck, she feels so goddamn good like this. I praise her endlessly about how good she looks, how hot it is to see her blood covering Declan, how greedy her cunt is for us both.

Instinctively, I know her ass is off limits today. The trauma that caused her fear is too close to the surface right now. So I focus on every other part of her. Alternating between plucking her nipples painfully, pulling her hair, and spanking her ass until she’s a dripping mess. I can barely hold back any longer, but even if she wanted pain, I need her to come before I can even think about doing so.

Declan starts losing his rhythm as he pushes into her mouth. I force her head down as far as she can until the tip of her nose brushes against his pelvis, cutting off her air. He groans as he spills down her throat. She begins to tighten around me and I bring my hand down against her ass again. The pain and oxygen deprivation send her over the edge and I feel her orgasm crash through her. D pulls free from her mouth and she immediately begins cursing as I start to thrust into her harder. I follow her only a few strokes later, filling her with my come.

Crashing down into the soft bed, I pull her with me. I brush the hair from her face and gently begin wiping the tears from her cheeks. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Scar.” Declan strips and climbs into bed behind her, offering gentle caresses down her back and massaging her ass that has to be sore. I get up and go into the bathroom, grab several washcloths and run a couple under warm water and another under cold water. Once I get back to the bed, I hand D the cold one and he places it against her stinging skin.

Meanwhile, I use the warm cloths to clear the blood and tears from her face, being careful with her abused lips. Scar keeps her eyes open and vulnerable as they flick between both me and Declan. A small smile playing on her lips as I take a new washcloth and gently clean up between her legs. Her entrance is red and swollen and I know I was far rougher than I’ve ever been before. I worry for a minute, but I don’t see any sign of tearing. After cleaning her up, I press a clean cloth against her entrance and cup her pussy through it, hoping it helps soothe the discomfort.

With each gesture of aftercare, her body settles more and more between us. No longer trembling, the wild look in her eyes easing as her eyelids grow heavy. There’s no sign of the lines of tension on her face that were just there a little while ago, leaving only a sated, sleepy look.

“I love you both,” she whispers dreamily.

Declan rains kisses over her shoulders and back. The touch something she was pulling away from only a short while ago, but now she leans into him and melts under his ministrations. “We love you, pretty girl. So fucking much.” The emotion in his voice reminds me of the time we first found out who she was.

Those photos.

I know we will have to look at them. Study them.

The thought turns my stomach and I already know that what we will see will forever haunt all of us the way that it has haunted Declan for all these years.

I press a kiss against Scar’s forehead. “Get some rest, Scar. We won’t leave your side.”