My eyes fluttered open, but I could barely see him through the wall of tears that went up as a veil of protection—my emotions clouded with betrayal, rage, and so many damn questions.
“Babe, look at me.”
“I—I can’t,” I whispered, choking on a stifled sob. “I—I can’t keep doing this.”
He cupped my cheek, and I was too weak to swat his hand away. I was mentally, emotionally, and physically exhausted.
“Babe, I’m sorry you had to see that.”
Had? Why did I have to see it at all? Why did he feel the need to seek out other women in the first place?
“Why am I not good enough for you anymore?”
He frowned. That was one thing I could see through my wall of tears. He genuinely looked remorseful and upset; two things he never was.
“Babe, you know that’s not true. You’re the best damn woman in this club. You’re everything to me.”
I sat up on the bed, shoving his stupid, pretty, ‘I’m sorry’ flowers back at him.
“No! I’m nothing to you, Sabbath. You know who I was something to? Adam! My fucking Adam would never treat me like this. My Adam would never go seeking out other women to keep himself satisfied. My Adam was there for me, and loved me with every beat of his heart, offering me not only peace and serenity but love as well. But that Adam is long gone, replaced by whatever this monster is that you have become.”
He tried to reach out for me, but I moved away. “No! You don’t get to touch me. Not anymore. I’m done with this shit, Sabbath. I’m done getting treated like garbage and playing second fiddle to every girl that drops on their knees to suck your cock.”
“Don’t you get it, Shasta? YourAdamdied the moment I took over as Prez of this damn club. I got an image to uphold here, one that the others ‘round here respect. If I don’t do what I’ve been doing, I may lose their loyalty, and then where would I be? Six feet under like my brother? No fucking thank you.”
“You put him there, you bastard. You fucking shot Leppard and put him in that damn grave.”
His eyes instantly filled with both regret and hatred.
“And why did I do it, Shasta?”
I looked at the sheets.
“Say it! Tell me why I fucking shot my own brother dead!”
I didn’t want to say it. Saying it would mean that I would have to admit what happened that night.
“Damn it, Shasta! Say it!”
“Because he raped me!” I bit out, my voice stifling in my throat. “He raped me…” I repeated, this time in a choked whisper.
“That’s right… and who fucking saved you that night? Who ripped him off of you? Who put two bullets in his skull just for touching you?”
“You did…”
He cupped my chin, lifting my head so he could look into my tear-filled eyes.
“Don’t you see? I murdered my own brother to save you. You’re my woman, and no man gets to touch you but me.”
“But you can touch everything with tits and an ass? How is that fair? Why should I just sit here twiddling my thumbs while I wait for you to come back to the room at night?”
He looked at the bedspread, unable to meet my gaze.
“If I am yours and no one can touch me, then no one should be able to touch you either. Hell, you haven’t fucking touched me… not really… not since…” My words trailed off, realization hitting me so fast it gave me whiplash. The reality of my relationship with Sabbath just took on a whole new life. There was a reason he barely ever touched me. It wasn’t because he didn’t want to… it was because I was tainted goods—tainted by his own flesh and blood whose obsession with me turned unhealthy.
That night wasn’t the first time Leppard had waltzed into my room to take what wasn’t his. He tried it every time Adam left on a run. Sometimes I was able to hold him off, sometimes he’d beat it out of me and would take it for himself. Leppard was a miserable excuse for a human being, and more of a monster than Sabbath could ever be. He didn’t deserve Adam’s silence about what really drove him to pull the trigger and shoot his brother dead, but he kept it a secret from his club, building this stupid lie around it. All to protect… me.
“You won’t touch me now because he did. That’s it, isn’t it? The reason you don’t want me anymore?”