"Nothing major. It’s nothing like what happened to my brother and his friends when they were kidnapped."
"Yet, it causes you nightmares so many years later..."
I swallow. Then lower my nose to the curve of where her neck meets her shoulder. The lush notes of violets and peaches engulf me, and I’m instantly hard. I raise my head and peer into those baby blues. "Why do I have such a hard time resisting you?"
"I imagine it’s the same reason I’m unable to resist you."
She reaches up to touch me again, but I lock my fingers around her wrist and shove it up and over her head. "When my younger brother was taken, I couldn’t sit by and do nothing. I felt responsible for him. I felt so guilty that I hadn’t been around to protect my little brother when he needed me most. So, I went in search of him."
She tilts her head. "I know Weston and his friends were kidnapped and later rescued by the police—"
"After nearly amonth. It’s why the seven of them are such good friends. In retrospect, it’s a miracle none of them became criminals or turned to addiction to deal with the trauma. They were lucky."
"Unlike you?"
I push off of her and sit on the edge of the bed. "I wasn’t kidnapped, if that’s what you are asking."
"But something did happen to you."
I ball my fingers into fists.Why am I telling her this now?It’s something I’ve never wanted to share with anyone else. Why do I feel the need to finally get this off my chest? Today, the day of my wedding—which somehow, doesn’t feel as fake as it should?
"I found where they were, but before I could get to them, I was discovered."
She gasps. "What did they do to you?"
"They took me prisoner. I heard the men joking that they had one more pawn to bargain with. They didn’t keep me with the rest of the Seven, though I assume they kept me somewhere close by. I think they watched too many Hollywood movies; they tortured me day and night."
She gulps. "What did they do?"
"They played fucking death-metal music. Played it for an hour on then off, on then off. It was so much worse when they switched if off. I’d barely start to fall asleep when it would start up again. They kept me in an unrelenting state of wakefulness and anticipation. After a while, I could barely form thoughts and lost track of time. They tied me to a chair, and sometimes it felt like they didn’t give me food or drink for days. And if I asked for anything, they laughed. The worst, though, was when they’d pretend they’d be right back with something, but I wouldn’t see them again for hours. And whoever came in next was empty-handed. They couldn’t make up their minds if they wanted to kill me or let me live."
"So how did you…"
"Escape?"
She nods.
"You sure you want to hear this?"
I sense her looking at me, but don’t meet her eyes.
"Once you hear it, there’s no going back."
She swallows. "Yes. Tell me, Liam."
I rise to my feet and begin to pace. The silence stretches. I head to the window and look out. It’s not completely dark, but it’s not yet dawn. The silver on the horizon indicates the sun will be rising soon. I push up the window pane, lean out and take huge gasps of air. By the time I turn to her, I’m almost in control.
"One of them was sweet on me. He was always touching me and complimenting me. Asking me about myself. Bringing me food when it seemed like the others had forgotten about me. He told me if I did what he asked of me, he’d eventually set me free."
"What" —she rises to her feet and walks toward me—"what did he ask of you?"
My lips twist. "What do you think?"
"Tell me." She takes one of my hands between both of hers. "Please, Liam, tell me."
I pull my hand away from her, then walk to the center of the room. "It started with him taking me out of the room. He’d allow me to shower, provided he could watch. Not that I cared. After days of pissing and shitting myself, I couldn’t wait to get clean. He even brought clean clothes for me. Then he’d feed me, and by that, I mean he actually put the food in my mouth and wouldn’t allow me to do it myself. I was ravenous, so I didn’t care. Then it was back to the room and more of that infernal noise." I squeeze the bridge of my nose. "This went on for days. At first, I was just happy to be out of the room. I didn’t care what he did to me. But soon, he insisted on bathing me, touching me subtly at first, then more overtly. I could tell the motherfucker was getting aroused, but I also knew if I protested, he would shut me back in that room with the noise. So, I stayed quiet and bore it. All the while, I was biding my time. Then he took it up a notch higher. He wanted me to touch him. When I refused, he said I had a choice. Either I touch him or—"
"Or?" Her voice is soft. "What did he do to you, Liam?"