“A fucking blowtorch.” He said it like it amused him. “They marked her by melting the skin off her back in the shape of a fucking S.” He leaned his head to the side, his eyes dark and merciless. “When we found her, there wasn’t a single inch of her that wasn’t bruised or broken. Her eye is so damaged from a beating, the doc thinks she might be blind in the one eye.”
“Granite—”
“The skin on her thighs had been cut, shredded in so many places it looks like fucking spider webs sliced across her flesh.”
I swallowed hard. “Stop, please.”
He scowled at me while I tried to make myself as small as possible between him and the wall. “Those fuckers raped her in so many ways, she had to have surgery so they could repair internal damage.”
I gasped.
“That’s right, Alyx. They fucked her so bad, they tore her apart.”
“Stop!”
But he tightened his hold on my jaw while forcing me to look him in the eye. “So, tell me, ballerina girl. Tell me which is better. Thinking she’s dead…or knowing exactly how they tortured her?”
My lips quivered, and I desperately tried to swallow my tears. I had never felt so haunted before in my life. Haunted by the knowledge of what Neon had been through. The pain. The fear. All I had was the memory of my own nightmare. She lived through it. She experienced it. My nightmare was her reality. The thought alone had me wanting to break down and turn into nothing but a heap of sobs.
I closed my eyes, no longer able to keep the tears from falling. His thumb wiped at the side of my mouth, his grip on my jaw loosening a little.
“They hurt her, ballerina girl.” The cold tone is his voice dissipated. “They fucking hurt her so bad, and there was nothing I could do.”
I opened my eyes, and the look on his face took me completely by surprise, almost knocking me off my feet. His expression was no longer stone, but rather burdened. He too was hurt and haunted.
“I was too late.” His jaw tightened. “I was too fucking late, and I couldn’t stop them.”
Jesus. The look in his eyes was nothing short of guilt, remorse…blame. I would have been a fool if I didn’t see it. For the first time, I could see past the hard exterior he wore so well, and I saw a man who hated himself. Blamed himself. God knew, I blamed him too. While I thought she was dead, I blamed him, while I blamed myself as well. But now, right here in this moment, my heart broke. Not for Neon. Not for me. But for him.
“How did you find her?” I never took my eyes off him, but he abruptly let go of me and stepped back.
“They tossed her outside the club doors.”
“What?” I narrowed my eyes, confused. “Why? You didn’t give me up, so why did they give her back?”
Suddenly, Granite seemed off kilter, shifting from one leg to the other. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course, it does. It doesn’t make sense that they would just give her back without you keeping to your end of the bargain.”
Granite’s jaw ticked, his eyes wild and dark. “It doesn’t. Fucking. Matter. Okay? Can’t you just accept that she’s alive, and move the fuck on?”
“What? No.”
He roughly raked his fingers through his hair. “That’s it. I’m done. You’re going back to your room.”
“Wait.” I grabbed his hand. “How did you manage to get her back, Granite?”
A sarcastic grin spread along his face even though a cruel glint remained in his eyes. “You’re not the only one who can bargain with the devil, ballerina girl.”
“What does that even mean?”
He pulled his palm down his face. “Nothing. Now, get back in your room.”
“Granite, stop. You’re avoiding my question.”
He snorted. “I can promise you it’s not the only thing I’m avoiding when it comes to you.”
“Granite. Just answer my goddamn question.”