Dark Devotions by Nichole Greene

27

OLIVIA

My eyes fighttheir way open. I blink a few times, trying to clear water or a tear, but after a few more blinks, I realize it’s blood. My temple is throbbing. That’s when everything comes back to me and a sob rips through my chest. Grant is dead. I watched him die from a shot that should have hit me. Why didn’t I throw myself in front of that bullet to save him?

My body wracks with sobs, and my stomach pitches, forcing bile from it. I can’t move my arms because they are zip tied together, so a strand of salvia hangs from my lip. I try to look around, but wherever I am is dark aside from one flickering bulb in the corner of the room.

“Good, keep vomiting Olivia. Maybe you’ll lose the weight you gained while you whored yourself out to four men.” Tripp steps into the light and sneers at me. “You look like a whore. You act like a whore. From now on I’m going to treat you like one.” He punches me in the side. “Tell me where my money is.”

“Awww, did it go missing?” I feign innocence. “I’m not sure where your money is, but I know exactly where mine is. A nice little account Nolan set up for me, recovering all the money you’ve stolen from me over the years.”

My head flings to the side as he backhands me. Instead of shrinking back and crying like I used to, I look inside myself, tapping into the strength I’ve been reminded I have. I look up at him with defiance. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m not yours to punish anymore.”

“I can make you afraid of me.” He says with venom. “How do you feel knowing you are the reason your parents are dead? I never would have killed them had you not been so close and needy with them. If you would have just let them live their do-gooder lives without constantly talking to them, I wouldn’t have had them killed.”

“I am not to blame for their deaths.”

“Oh, I think you know you are. Sometimes I wish I could have done it myself, then fucked you while you cried about it.” The sky blue eyes I once found so intriguing now disgust me. The time we’ve been apart has made him age and not the sexy, Hollywood way. He looks gaunt and strung out, all the capillaries in his eyes are red.

He grabs me by the neck, squeezing until I can’t breathe, and then he covers my mouth with his. His lips and tongue revolt me, so I bite down as hard as I can. Blood coats my tongue, but I don’t let go until his fist connects with my stomach.

He wipes the blood from his chin and looks at me with shocked fury. “You fucking bitch!” He flips the chair I’m tied to back, causing my head to slam off the concrete floor. “You’re going to fucking regret that.” The last thing I see before I black out is his foot slamming down on my chest.

I don’t know how long I’m out. When I wake up, it looks like I’m back in the panic room in our basement. My heart pounds against my chest furiously as I run my hands over the smooth metal walls.

No no no no no no no no no.

Am I already back in California?

My nails break as I claw at the walls around me. A loud, wailing noise pierces my ears. I start kicking the walls of my cold, dark prison. I will escape this box, even if I die doing so. Blood roars in my ears, pulsing with every erratic beat of my heart.

I crawl in circles searching for a doorknob, a crack, anything, but there’s nothing. I collapse into the fetal position, my ankles and wrists still bound together and rock back and forth. My mind replays every good minute of my time with the guys. The way they held me. The way they protected me. The way they loved me.

I think about Lake making me breakfast. I think about Nolan singing to me. I think about Sawyer shopping with me. I think about Grant bathing me. I imagine all of them touching me, their warm, sure strokes against my skin.

Guttural sobs escape my chest as I think about watching in horror as Grant was shot. I think about the ways I could have done something different. How I should have moved in front of him because Tripp wouldn’t have shot me. I could have been his shield, instead I’m the reason he’s dead.

Suddenly the door is wrenched open, the bright light silhouetting three tall forms. I shrink back in the corner, terrified that this is it. He’s brought his friends to rape, torture, and murder me. I turn my head away, pushing it down into the metal floor of the box even though my head is already pounding.

“Livvy.” Two warm hands pull me away from the corner. “Fuck. Livvy. Look at me.”

I recognize the voice, so I peek out of the corner of my eye. I blink when three familiar faces fill my vision. I blink again, the relief so potently stark. Lake cuts the zip ties off, and I’m dragged fully into Nolan’s lap.

I’m a mess of blood, snot, and tears, but it doesn’t stop him from kissing every inch of my face. He’s holding onto me so tight, his body shuddering against me, and when I look up into his beautiful hazel eyes, I see them glassy with tears. One falls, rolling down his cheek to join mine that transferred to his face.

“My turn,” Sawyer says roughly. He lifts me from Nolan’s lap and begins checking every cut and bruise he can see. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry he caught you.”

“Where is he?” I swallow nervously. “And can we get out of the box?”

“Yeah, of course.” Sawyer hands me off to Lake who stands with me in his arms like it’s nothing.

“My team knocked him out and are on their way upstate with him.” Lake carries me out of the box and keeps going until we’re out of the building entirely. Sawyer and Nolan are following close behind. “You’re safe. You will never have to fear him again.”

He sets me down on a stack of crates, and all three of them gasp in shock when they look at my chest. Nolan walks away and kicks a barrel, sending it into a pile of old crates as he swears under his breath. I look down to see what has them so upset. In the center of my chest is a bruise in the shape of a shoe, right down to the tread of the sole.

“I’m pretty sure I have a concussion, too.” I murmur, running my fingers through my hair. I wince when I hit a large bump. “Otherwise, I think I’m okay.” A thought hits me suddenly and I stand too quickly and stumble. “Where is Grant? He was shot!”

Lake catches me, lifting me back into his arms. “He’s okay, it went in his shoulder, and he was knocked out, otherwise he would have been here with us. He’ll meet us back at the apartments.”

“I have Dr. Lawson on the way there, too.” Sawyer starts walking toward a SUV that one of Lake’s mercenaries drove up for us.

Lake gently places me in the backseat beside Sawyer, who pulls me to him, kissing my forehead with heart-wrenching tenderness. Nolan and Lake talk to the mercenaries, no doubt giving them directives on what to do.

I look over Sawyer’s shoulder and see men leading and carrying women out of the warehouse I was in. I watch in absolute horror as more and more just keep coming out. All ages and races. I look at Sawyer, tears burning my eyes.

“They were in the basement. We stumbled upon them when we were looking for you.”

“Oh my God.” Searing hot tears start to fall again. “Are they okay? We should call the police.” My stomach flips dangerously. “I think I’m going to be sick.” I swing the door open just in time to vomit what little is left inside me.

“Guys,” Sawyer snaps. “We need to get her home. Get in or I’m going without you.”

Both of them jump into action, getting in the car and pulling out of the warehouse district. Sawyer pulls me close to him, and I nod off. I hear the three of them talking quietly about whether they should let me sleep or not, so I mumble that I’m just dozing. That seems to placate them because they’re quiet for the rest of the drive.

I feel myself lifted out of the car and know it’s Sawyer holding me. His spicy scent surrounds me, making me feel small and safe. They carry me onto the private elevator that goes straight to the penthouse level from their garage.

Sawyer carries me into his apartment and back into the bathroom. Nolan starts running a bath for me. I look down at my beautiful white suit as Lake starts to remove it. It’s covered in blood and dirt.

I whimper when he pulls the jacket off and the double stick tape comes off. “Ouch.”

The corner of Lake’s mouth tips up. “You went through all this,” he motions at my bruises and cuts, “and pulling double-sided tape off your boobs is what gets an ouch?”

“Yeah.” I give him a little smile back because it is kind of funny. “Let me rip double-sided tape off your dick and then tell me whether it hurts or not.”

“I’ll take a rain check on that.” He pushes my pants down and helps me step out of them. Then he does the same with my panties.

Nolan helps me over to the bath, steadying me as I step inside. Then he and Sawyer take turns washing my hair and body. They take extra care not to hurt me at all. Lake leaves for a few minutes and comes back to let us know that Dr. Lawson is waiting for me in the bedroom. He leaves a pair of underwear and a robe for me on the counter. Nolan and Sawyer help me stand and dry off. I manage to pull the clothes on and walk out into the bedroom on my own.

She’s standing by the window and turns to us when I come into the room. She gives me a warm, compassionate, albeit sad, smile and motions for me to sit on the edge of the bed.

“You boys can go.” She dismisses them and waits for them to go, except they make no move to leave. In fact, Nolan takes a seat on the chair with an insolent look on his face. She rolls her eyes and looks at me. “Do you want them to leave, or can they stay?”

“They’re fine. They’d just hover behind the door anyway.”

“Okay, tell me what happened and if you have any non-obvious injuries.”

I start with everything that happened from the moment Tripp entered the conference room to when they guys found me in the box. I can feel the anger and frustration coming off the guys in waves as they listen to me recount my experiences.

“Do you need a rape kit?” she asks me with her voice lowered, so just the two of us can hear.

I shake my head. “I wasn’t raped.”

“You’re sure? There were periods of time you don’t remember.”

“Yeah, I think I’d feel it if I had been.”

“Okay, I’d like you to follow concussion protocol, you can sleep but have one of them wake you up periodically to check you out. You probably have some more broken ribs. Otherwise, these butterfly bandages should be enough for your cuts.” She finishes cleaning me up and gives me yet another bottle of pain meds.

I tie my robe and turn to thank her but stop short when I see Grant standing a few feet from me. He’s looking me over just as closely as I am him. He’s in different clothes, and his arm is in a sling, a large bandage poking out of the collar of his t-shirt. He also has an almost identical gash on his temple to mine.

I step to him because he seems rooted to the spot, like he can’t bring himself to come closer to me. I know what that tight set of his jaw means as he looks over my shoulder at the wall. His guilt is eating him alive.

“Will you guys leave us please?” I ask Sawyer, Nolan, and Lake. They all leave silently, closing the door with a soft snick behind them. I pat the bed beside me. “Sit.”

He clenches his jaw and hesitates before coming to sit next to me.

“I was so scared, Grant. I thought I lost you,” I whisper as I grab his free hand. “Are you okay?” I start to cry again. I didn’t think I had it in me to cry again so soon.

“I’m fine, just a flesh wound.” His voice is withdrawn and sullen. “I let you down again. I let you get hurt again. How can I ever ask you to forgive me when I didn’t protect you?”

“He didn’t even give you a chance, he walked in and shot you like the coward he is. I was in your lap. You didn’t have time to protect me.”

“I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted.” He shakes his head and looks out the window. “If I would have had my head in the game, I would have been quicker. The fact of the matter is you are hurt, again, at his hands, and it’s my fucking fault. You should walk away from me. I’m not worthy of you.”

“You’re right.” I nod and stand in front of him. “I am hurt.” I lower myself, so we’re eye to eye. “But so are you. I’m the reason you were shot.”

“No—” he starts to disagree.

“Yeah, using your logic, it’s my fault that you were shot. Convince me otherwise.”

“It’s different.”

“Why?”

“I was there to protect you.”

“Are we in a relationship?”

“Yes.”

“Do we love each other?”

“Yes.”

“So we protect each other. That’s how it works in an equal partnership. We’re both responsible for the well-being of the other.”

“Yes.”

“So the only person responsible for that gunshot wound and my injuries is Tripp Daniels.”

“Yes.” He looks at me with so much love in his eyes it leaves me breathless. “I love you so much, Liv.” He does a double take when he catches a glimpse of my chest and the bruise there. “Jesus fucking Christ. I’m going to make his death as slow as fucking possible.”

“I’m on board with that plan of action.” I really am. He showed no humanity, no remorse. And then there’s all those women he had in that warehouse. He deserves a horrible death.