35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Five

C andy

The morning light filters through the hotel room curtains, casting a soft glow over the tangled sheets and Courage's sleeping form beside me. For a moment, I lie here, watching the steady rise and fall of his perfect chest, marveling at the peace on his face.

Peace. It's a foreign concept, a distant dream I never thought I'd truly grasp. But here, in the quiet stillness of this room, with the love of my life by my side and the weight of my past finally lifted from my shoulders, I'm starting to understand what it means.

I'm filled with love for him and feel so much optimism about my future… our future. That he shared some of his deepest thoughts with me last night as we were still connected, makes me love him that much more. I look forward to a lifetime of getting to know him better.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, a reminder that the world outside this little cocoon is still turning, still waiting, still demanding. With a sigh, I reach for it, bracing myself for the barrage of notifications and messages.

But what I find instead takes my breath away.

When the names Raskins, Blackwell, and Wood showed up on the police band radio, it was the paparazzi's wet dream. It, just like my coochie, has been splashed all over the headlines.

Instead of what I've feared for years, I'm greeted with messages of support, solidarity, and love. From fans and fellow survivors, most are people I've never even met. All of them thanking me for my bravery, for speaking my truth, for shining a light on the darkness that has lurked in the shadows of this industry for far too long.

At my, "holy shit!", Courage grabs his phone, reads a text that just pinged, then scrolls the headlines.

"While I was holding you last night in bed, it appears Fury and Stealth were working their tech magic. Fury just texted me that he and Stealth put our audio and video footage to work. Your little soliloquy at the park last night is rolling on every media outlet in the world."

He absently scrolls as he continues.

I'm mesmerized watching me as I stand tall, speaking truth to men who terrified me. I almost don't recognize that pink-haired woman who appears to have so much strength and conviction. The tape stops before Courage and Fury step into the scene. Then replays.

"Wow!" I murmur.

"Yeah. Look. At. Her." But Courage isn't looking at the screen; he's looking at me with love and admiration.

We rearrange ourselves with Courage leaning against the headboard and me sitting between his thighs as I scroll my social media feed. Tears sting my eyes as I read my messages, each word a balm to my battered soul. Although almost all the messages are supportive, it's heartbreaking that many of the messages are from women who have lived through their own versions of my nightmare.

A soft knock at the door pulls me from my reverie. Courage stirs beside me, instantly alert, a growl rumbling in his chest. But it's just Fury calling through the door with a gruff, "You two decent?"

I can't help but laugh, the sound rusty but genuine. "We're good, Fury."

Courage pulls the blanket up and tucks it under my arms, making sure I'm decent, then stalks naked to open the door.

Fury's otherworldly silver gaze sweeps over us. "How you holding up, kitten?"

I take a moment to consider the question, to really think about my answer. "I'm… okay." It's surprising how true it feels. "Better than okay, actually. I feel… lighter."

Fury nods, a glint of approval in his gaze. "Good. Real good. And your new accessory goes well with your complexion." He stares pointedly at my mating bite.

"Crap! I passed out before I could sprint to the bathroom and see what it looks like."

"Don't worry, you've got decades to admire it." He holds up a tablet, his expression turning serious. "Did you see? The media's going apeshit out there. Blackwell and Raskins' arrest is front-page news, and your name is on everyone's lips."

A flutter of anxiety stirs in my gut, but it's fleeting, overshadowed by a newfound sense of purpose. "Let them talk," I say, my voice steady. "I'm done hiding, done being ashamed. It's time for the truth to come out, all of it."

Courage takes my hand, pride shining in his eyes. "That's my girl."

Fury clears his throat, looking almost uncomfortable in the face of our open affection.

It's still early on the west coast, but Maury must have a sixth sense about big news, because his name lights up on my phone.

"Candy. How you holding up?"

After I fill him in and realize every time I tell someone I'm feeling strong and confident, I'm filled with a sense of calm, Maury starts joking.

"You pay me the big bucks to manage you, yet you finagled your way onto front page news without me. I hope you're not thinking of cutting me out of my ten percent."

"Fury and Stealth managed to get that video out to the public. It would only be fair for you to cut them in on something—"

"Steak!" Fury gives a cartoonish lick of his lips. "Steak for all the Wolven Warriors back in the Zone."

"Great idea." Maury sounds buoyant. "Tell me, bubelah , what's your next move?"

My mind whirs as I take a deep breath. "I want to finish the tour." Conviction rings in my voice. "I want to get back on that stage and sing my heart out for every survivor, every warrior out there. I want to show them that we're stronger than our abusers, that our voices matter."

Courage squeezes my hand, his smile fierce and bright. "Then that's exactly what we'll do."

Fury nods, something like respect flickering in his gaze. "In the meantime, the other Warriors and I will provide bodyguard services. Those KEN fuckers might be behind bars, but they've still got reach."

I shiver at the thought but push it aside. I won't let fear rule me, not anymore. "Thanks, Fury," I say softly, meaning it with every fiber of my being. "For everything."

He waves a dismissive hand, but I don't miss the way his eyes soften, just for a moment. "Don't mention it, kitten. We look after our own."

"I've got twenty calls stacked, people wanting interviews. Yay or nay on that, Candy?"

"Yay, Maury. I've hidden long enough. Why don't you coordinate it with my travel schedule?"

"On it. Gotta go."