The Young and the Submissive

Page 17

“Don’t call them now,” Raine blurted. She didn’t know why—maybe everything was catching up to her or reality was setting in—but she teared up. “They’ll come, and I’m not ready to see them.”
“I promise. Just do as I say.”
She thought about disobeying, about going back to her hotel room, downing her bottle, and…who knew what then. But she’d already disrupted his day, brought her problems to his office, and prompted him to change all his plans. He’d promised not to call Liam and Hammer in the next few minutes. She owed it to Beck to stay.
“All right. I haven’t eaten all day anyway.”
He nodded and released her. “Get something in your stomach. Fifteen minutes, princess.”
Raine nodded, then left his office, feeling the stares of a dozen patients on her.
It didn’t take long to find the cafeteria. They were nearly ready to shut down breakfast to begin preparing lunch. She must have looked pitiful because one of the workers sent her a glance full of sympathy and let her grab a few prepackaged foods before they locked up the counters, leaving the seating area open, with its silent but animated televisions flashing and the chairs empty.
Ignoring the beginning of a talk show, Raine reached into her wallet for cash. Damn it, she’d spent it all on her bottle. She hesitated. She couldn’t put everything back after the woman had bent the rules for her.
With a sigh, she handed over her credit card. Maybe the guys wouldn’t be tracking her movements. For all she knew, Liam and Hammer didn’t care that she was gone. Despite his pretty speech, Liam had washed his hands of her. And Hammer…who knew? She hadn’t seen much of him since Thanksgiving.
The woman swiped quickly and sent Raine on her way with a receipt. Setting her purse and the bottle on the table, she plopped into the chair with a cola and a breakfast pastry—and stared at them. She could have cooked something more appetizing at Shadows. Normally, she would enjoy feeding Liam something hot and wonderful. She always made extras for Hammer and left it in the oven. Strictly speaking, she wasn’t supposed to, but he’d starve or eat junk otherwise. If she was already in the kitchen, how could it hurt to cook a little extra for someone who needed it? Of course, Liam would have prodded her to eat the something warm and healthy, too. Now?
Raine usually loved sweet things. The Pop-Tarts just depressed her.
What was she doing here? Where was she going? She had no damn clue.
Fighting back more tears, Raine pulled her phone from her bag and gripped it. She fought the urge to turn it on, call Liam, beg him… God, what good would that do? He’d just wanted to know if she loved him, and she’d been too afraid to make herself vulnerable to him.
She had to pick up, move on, grow up, figure it out. And she would. Raine didn’t know where to start yet, but it wouldn’t be with a teary conversation that would make Liam feel guilty enough to take her back only to have the entire cycle repeat again. Until she changed, that’s precisely what would happen.
Dread snaked through Liam as he stared at the envelope Hammer had put into his hands. “What’s this?”
“A visual of what daddy dearest is capable of.”
With his guts in knots, Liam ripped into the envelope, yanked out the photographs inside, and got his first glimpse.
Oh god. Oh Raine. My poor wee lass. His chest buckled.
The photo was of Raine—much younger, but it was still his Raine. Her innocent face was swollen, colored in a rainbow of unnatural hues: black, blue, purple with shades of yellow and green. Her eyes were closed and so puffy, Liam wondered if she’d been able to open them. The lips he’d kissed so many times were split and caked with blood.
She’d been beaten savagely by a monster who’d meant to destroy her.
His first thought was that he wished he’d been there to protect her. He hadn’t known her then, but Liam still felt as if he’d failed her somehow.
His second thought was that he would kill the man.
He took seething breaths to bring his rage under control. “Her father did this to her?”
“Keep breathing, man. It’s a shock,” Hammer said in a tone meant to soothe a wild beast. “I know.”
How ironic. It was the first bloody time all day his old pal seemed to find his control.
“Breathe? Like hell! Answer my fucking question.”
“Yes, her father.”
The bloody prick they were headed to see. Liam stared down at the photo. There were more pictures he hadn’t seen yet. He didn’t want to…but he must. If he wanted to understand Raine, this was part of who she’d become. He hoped like hell she hadn’t let it define her.
Hammer sent him an anxious glance. “I took those the night I found her. She wouldn’t let me near her, even to give her first aid. So I called Beck over, and we slipped a sedative in her Coke. Once she drifted off, Beck made sure she didn’t have any injuries that needed immediate attention. The following morning, I took her to a doctor he recommended. She examined Raine. Cracked rib, a couple of stitches, lots of bruising. The rape kit came back negative. She hadn’t been sexually assaulted.”
Thank god for small mercies.
But from this photo alone, the fact that Bill hadn’t raped her might be the only one. Liam wanted to growl at the injustice Raine had endured. He didn’t care if the pictures had been taken six years ago or yesterday. The agony her father had forced on her stabbed him with pure fury.
Dragging in a sharp breath, he shuffled to the next picture. Raine’s arm, black with bruises in the shape of a man’s hand. God, she’d been a skinny little thing. A grown man unleashing all his force on her would have overpowered her quickly. And no one had been there to stop him. How had Raine done it alone?
Another photo revealed a red, angry spot of torn scalp just above her ear, indicating she’d been grabbed and yanked viciously by the hair.
His eyes smarted. She’d been nothing but a scared child, enduring what that bastard had dished out. But by Christ, she’d escaped. No wonder running was ingrained.
The next shot was of her neck and chest. Deep gouges and cuts raked her flesh. More mottled bruises lay beneath the straps of her tank top. Liam could see discoloration around Raine’s throat. Her father had tried to strangle her? Fuck killing the man; Liam wanted to destroy him.
At the lodge, he’d pried the girl open with pickles and chocolate. The memories of Raine’s words that night rang in his ears. I found out that I shouldn’t mess with Dad’s temper… He would never win father-of-the-year awards. A fucking understatement. He said he wouldn’t go to jail for disciplining his stupidest, most willful...
Jail was far too kind for Bill.
The Dom inside him wanted to hold her close and protect her. Eventually, he’d turn her over his knee and give her a few loving swats of his own for so grossly understating her past. He intended to make it clear that he wouldn’t tolerate her lying or blatantly withholding information anymore.
But wasn’t that why he’d uncollared her in the first place?
The enormity of her damage sank in.
All this time, he thought he’d made progress with her at the lodge, convincing himself that he would have dismantled her walls if he’d had more time. He’d blamed Hammer’s “need” for stunting his ability to reach Raine. But now he feared that all the pickles and chocolate on the planet wouldn’t have been enough for her to reveal the depths of her anguish.
Raine’s soul was still torn. She nurtured her pain, using it like a shield to keep anyone from getting too close. He understood that she hid in shame. Her fear of abandonment and difficulty trusting couldn’t be more clear. But these photographs proved that she’d rather outright lie than risk revealing her real self and letting anyone too close.
As soon as he found Raine, he intended to tell her that he grasped the hell she’d survived, but he would no longer let her use it as a reason to hide from him.
His stare fell upon the final photo. Hammer had pulled the sheet aside to reveal her sleek, supple legs. The bruises and scrapes on them infuriated him enough, but the sickening dark contusions staining her inner thighs ignited his blood. He couldn’t contain his wrath.
“Motherfucker!” Liam’s fist connected violently with the glove box.
Hammer cast a startled glance in his direction. “Take another breath. It was a long time ago.”
“Not for me!” Liam roared. “And now this? I thought you said she wasn’t raped?”
“She wasn’t. When the doctor examined Raine, she confirmed that there was no trauma to her vagina. Her hymen was intact. But I think Bill sure tried.”
Raine must have fought like hell.
Liam’s fingers trembled, yet he was unable to look away from the photos. “Why didn’t you show me these sooner?”
If Hammer had, he might have understood Raine better, taken a different tactic with her, been more patient. It might have made a difference.
“What was I supposed to do, Liam? Haul you into my office the night you collared her and whip these pictures out for you? She doesn’t know I have them, and it wasn’t my place to tell you.”
No, it had been Raine’s. But to Liam’s mind, Hammer staying mute on the subject reeked far more of his desire to hoard the girl than to protect her privacy. He would only keep this terrible truth to himself because he believed that he alone should—or could—heal her. How ironic that he’d never even tried.
Liam’s mind wandered back to his first day at Shadows, after arriving from New York. He’d known almost instantly that Hammer had far more feelings for the girl than he’d been willing to admit. In fact, their first conversation about her had been eye-opening.
“Tell me about Raine,” he’d asked that first night.
Hammer had tensed. Anyone who didn’t know the man well might not have noticed, but Liam had. Then, as if Hammer had forced himself to relax, he’d shrugged. “She’s a runaway I took in. She works for me.”
“Really, now? Is that all? You watch her an awful lot, mate.”
“Of course. She’s an employee under my roof. I take responsibility for her safety.”
And he took it very seriously, too much for merely a boss. “I’ve heard whispers there’s a standing edict that no Dom is allowed to touch her. Is there a reason?”
Hammer had drawn in a deep breath and acted as if he’d been gathering his thoughts. Liam rather thought at the time that the man had been fighting his temper. “Raine was abused before she ran away. She’s not ready for what any of the Doms here would want or expect.”
“Even you?”
“I’ve never given it much thought, but yeah.”
Liam remembered sitting back in his chair, stunned at such a whopping lie. He’d bet money then that Hammer thought of the girl under him every damn day. Why had his best mate felt the need to lie to him?
“What do you think she needs in order to be ready, then? Maybe you ought to help her along.”
Almost immediately, Hammer had shaken his head. “Time, space, security, maturity. She’s vulnerable. No one touches her, including you. Any other sub under my roof is fair game, but not Raine.”
While Hammer had made his rationale sound so noble, Liam had known better. The man might as well have wrapped her in barbed wire and posted a NO TRESPASSING sign around her.
It was then that Liam had realized Hammer was in love with her. Which explained why the man had never once mentioned the girl in the last six years.
As Hammer turned down another residential street, Liam dragged himself back to the present. They had to be nearing her father’s house. Liam felt a fresh wave of fury that his old friend had kept so much from him for so long—the truth about Juliet, his feelings for Raine, and the extent of her damage at her father’s hands.
Such a bloody fucking debacle. How much time and drama could they have saved if Hammer had been willing to come clean?
Beside him, Macen let loose a heavy sigh. “I’d hoped she would volunteer the fact that her father had abused her. I’m sorry she didn’t.”
Pot meet kettle.
“Raine mentioned it, but…” Liam held up the last picture. “She never described anything like this. Did she tell you straightaway that her father had beaten her?”
“No. It took months for her to tell me bits and pieces, but I guessed. Why else would she run away from home with nothing but the clothes on her back?” Hammer gritted his teeth. “The private investigator I hired located the violent prick in two days. When I went to visit him, he had fresh stitches on his cheek.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“She admitted later that she fought Bill off with a kitchen knife. She slept with it under her pillow.”
Liam could feel something slide sideways in his mind as the rage and frustration congealed. “Why didn’t you kill the miserable wretch?”