I can’t sit down because it hurts.
I can’t stand up because my legs shake violently beneath me.
I can’t lay down because panic overwhelms me when I lay on my stomach, my mind flitting back to what Storm just did to me.
I’m conscious of the fact he didn’t actually hurt me that badly. Sure, my ass is burning and red hot, but I’ll have no lasting damage. I’ve read enough books featuring spankings to know it’s meant to hurt like this, but what I’m struggling to wade through is the fact he didn’t stop when I asked him. That’s one of the main rules when it comes to dynamics that involve punishment, and I don’t know how I’m ever going to look at the man again, let alone allow him anywhere near me.
Emerson sits quietly across the room, worry etched into her beautiful features. Her high cheekbones and auburn hair make her look like a doll, but it’s her emerald-green eyes that hold my attention. The longer I can focus on anything but the pain, the better chance I have of escaping.
“I want to leave,” I say softly, not trusting my voice not to break.
Emerson sighs as conflict appears in her features. She wants to help me, her instincts are to do just that, but she’s loyal to Storm. He’s family and I’m just a stray he brought home. “What Storm did is inexcusable. I’m not going to defend him for it, because there’s no excuse I can make that will make what he did okay. He was upset, and he was angry, but he should have talked to you about limits and given you a way out. He never should have taken without your consent.”
“But you won’t help me.”
She shakes her head slightly, her lips tipping up in a sad smile. “No. Storm is a good man, and today I saw a side of him I’ve never seen before, but the way he looks at you is the same way Rayne looks at me. The Saint James men are cavemen. That’s the only description I can give. They are possessive and at times hard to deal with. But I wouldn’t give Rayne up for anything in the world, and there isn’t a thing on earth he wouldn’t do for me.”
I roll my eyes. What ever happened to women helping other women? “Just because that’s how it is with Rayne, doesn’t mean that’s what Storm is going to be like.” The words come out harsh, and maybe I mean them to. I don’t have time to stand here and argue with her if she’s not going to help me. I’ll find a way out one way or another.
“I’m not saying that, Ayvah. I’m saying that Storm made a mistake today. A big one. One I won’t forgive him for anytime soon so don’t blame you for doing the same. But I fought Rayne. I fought against his caveman tendencies, and his rules. I fought it all. I was too stubborn and too independent to give over control to a man I had just met. The things he said in those early days were insane, but when I allowed myself to give in, and gave him the power, those are some of the greatest moments of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I still fight him on pretty much everything, but we’re a team,” she pauses as she considers her next words. “I think men like Storm and Rayne expect to spend their lives as bachelors. Having a girlfriend or a wife is a liability, especially when they’re so overwhelmingly alpha, but when they find their one, it changes everything and they have no idea how to deal with it. They’ve never been in a relationship, never spent more than a few days with the same woman, and when they meet someone that challenges that, and that they would give up everything for, I swear it melts something in their brains.”
If what she’s saying didn’t sound so farfetched, I would think it’s cute. I’ve always been a sucker for romance, but I just don’t believe in the whole, love at first sight thing, or even the concept of having one soul mate. “There’s no way Storm is going to stay interested in a chubby eighteen-year-old with a fucked-up family. He will get sick of me in a matter of days, and then what? Surely you’re not naive enough to think he’s just going to let me walk away.” My sister’s words slip from my lips because it’s true. He’s the head of the mafia for god sake. I’ve already seen and heard too much, how can he just let me go when he gets sick of me?
A look of horror crosses her face and she shakes her head immediately. “Absolutely not, Ayvah. He wouldn’t do that. Wynter would have his fucking head if he did. I have no involvement in that side of the business whatsoever, but I can assure you they don’t hurt women or children. It’s some code they have.”
“My ass is pretty fucking sore,” I snap.
“That was a punishment, not that I’m defending him, because he should have waited for your consent and stopped when you told him to. But it’s different to kill someone.” She stands from where she’s sitting by the window and approaches me carefully, as if she thinks I might run. Hell, I might. If she’s not going to help me get out of here, she’s not much use to me. “I know you’re scared, and I know you’ve been through hell these last few days, but I want you to seriously consider speaking to Storm. We won’t make you, and we won’t let him in here until you decide you want to speak to him, but I think you’ll find his actions had nothing to do with wanting to hurt you, and everything to do with making sure you never put yourself in that kind of danger again.”
She gives me a tight smile before crossing to the door and slipping through it, leaving me alone with my thoughts and sore ass.
Fantastic. My only ally won’t help me escape and this place is locked up like Fort Knox. But I’ve lived too much of my life as a prisoner without ever realizing it, and I’m not about to do it willingly.
