NEFARIOUS: B723 SERIES BOOK THREE, page 25
I can’t deny that now.
However, I can’t get over her raping me to save herself for some dumbass reason. Maybe he has a sex tape of her, or she dated one of her sister’s boyfriends. Nothing can excuse her for what she did as much as I sorta wish there was a way.
“Promised what?” she presses. “You’ve already shredded my dream. You told Mina Blythe that I was a rapist. You have no idea what you’ve done.”
“I actually do. I planned it.” Amirah whips her elbow back and nails me in the ribs. Releasing her dress to slap her ass like a fucking child, I barely get back a whole step when she’s in my face.
“Go ahead,” she bites out, her plush pink lips pulled back into a pretty snarl. “Keep fucking up my life. You’re gonna run out of shit soon.”
“Am I? I’m definitely thinking of one right now that might satisfy me for the night.”
“What, raping me? It’s not called rape when someone doesn’t say no.”
My brows knit in surprise and a fucking eagerness that I’m attempting to tamper down. “You want me to fuck you?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time, now would it? You fucked my mouth, filled it up to the back of my throat so I couldn’t breathe, and you liked it. I’d even chance it and say you loved it.”
I lift a brow because she’s taunting me now. She’s never going to say no or hint how much she doesn’t want me to touch her because Amirah believes it’d turn me on more.
Just like her sisters.
“A little confident, aren’t we?”
“Are we?” She counters with a slight cock to her head. “I think you enjoyed it when I rode you and took my own orgasm. How I followed your little orders of touching myself.”
I feel a vein in my temple throb once, warning me to either shut her the hell up or my temper is going to unleash hell on Earth in two seconds.
This is what I was talking about when I said she was good at hiding her twisted brain. The good girl persona is a front but the bitch one she has down to a tee.
“I’d shut the fuck up if I were you, Rus,” I advise through my teeth. “You’re stepping back into that dark place where I’m trying to keep you out.”
“To do what?” she harps back. “You took everything from me. And why, because I didn’t pick you over me? Then, yeah, I could see why you’d be so upset with me. But I don’t owe you anything.”
“You half-ass told and expect me to just live with that? To take your word for it? Do you know what the fuck you did to me? My family? So, I took what you had. It was better than killing you, and I’m still debating on the latter.”
“I want you to leave,” she says in a strangled growl. “I can’t look at you anymore. You did enough, mission accomplished. I bet your dick gets hard for—” I slam my palm against the door, startling her words to cease from her mouth.
“Last warning, Rus. “I asked you two questions tonight, and I want an answer to one. Or I’ll reap something tonight that you’ll get to wake up to tomorrow. And the next day, and the day after that until you break for me.”
“Fine.” Her eyes well up in tears, but she holds back on letting them fall. “The men that were here earlier, Solange sent them to rape me. She’s pissed that I told my dad what she, Odette, and my mother did. I don’t know what he said, I wasn’t there, but she’s clearly pissed and was trying to teach me a lesson. Happy?”
I study her features, searching for any deceit, but I don’t find any. The woman is either a master at masking things, or she’s telling me what I asked for. I’ll find out from Emmy.
Reaching for the door, I open it and bump her in the ass with it. She immediately moves, and I do what she asked me to do.
I leave.
I can’t sleep.
Probably because my brain has nothing to dream about anymore. All I’m plagued with are nightmares of the man who held my wrists and the other who held down my thighs. I don’t feel safe anymore, and I’m waking up every hour to ensure no one is standing next to me or trying to do what those men attempted to do.
I can’t stop thinking about Mills and what he did for me. Also, why does he wants to ask me so many questions? I haven’t told Laurent about what happened because he’ll fly up here and make me move somewhere else. I dare not text Solange because she’s like a leech that feeds off the fear of others.
I’m alone in this right now. And it brings nothing but hopelessness and no way out. Eventually, I’ll have to tell Dad and my brother, dividing our dysfunctional family and putting a wedge in between us all.
I guess there always was one there, no matter how much we all tried to ignore it.
Getting out of bed, my head is heavy from exhaustion. I can barely hold it up as I stride from the bedroom and bump into a hard and unwelcomed body in front of me.
My throat rips out a scream as a hand covers my mouth, followed by an arm wrapping around my waist. Then a gentle “shhh” right afterward as fingers splay dangerously close to my ass.
“It’s me.”
Me.
Like, Mills, me?
I try to shove him away, but he stays put, keeping me pressed up against his chest, and I smell his mint and cedarwood that confirms that it is him. Relief floods through my violent heartbeat as I hang my head to catch my breathing.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Rus.” He drops his hand then slowly releases me, stepping away to give me some space.
If he really cared about that, he wouldn’t fucking be here right now.
“Now, what?” I snap through my taut jaw. “Is the next thing on your agenda to give me a heart attack?”
I swear I feel the smirk in his following words through the darkness of the hallway when he says, “Not original enough.”
Rounding him in the minimal amount of space between him and the door, I squeeze past and down the kitchen.
And I hate this shit, but I can feel him following me. Even though I can’t hear his footsteps, it’s like a sixth sense has evolved and began working inside me to keep me alive.
“You hungry for your tacos now?” I whirl on him, the food now being ruined by the happenings of today and him eating them.
The asshole.
“What is up with you and feeding me? Isn’t poison to basis?”
“Yeah,” he replies flatly, the moonlight of the room dimmed from clouds that must be blocking it. I don’t like that I can’t see his eyes. I feel like I can read them more when I can see them.
“How do you keep getting in here?”
“I have a key.”
Geezus Christ.
“How?”
“Only took a fifty-dollar bill and that I claimed to live here for the maintenance guy to give me one.”
My jaw feels like it’s going to crack under the amount of pressure I’m putting on it before I pivot back on my heels. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re cranky when you don’t get enough sleep.”
“Thanks to you.” I rip open the fridge full of food, unsure of what I’m looking for or even wanting, but I grab a strawberry yogurt then slam the door shut.
I don’t have to glance over to know that Mills is watching my every move, which blows because I don’t want this yogurt. But I’m going to eat it because then I’ll feel more stupid than I do now.
Like how I’m not grabbing my phone and calling the cops right now. That I haven’t run out the front door and down the emergency exit stairs.
Because you are stupid. You did what Solange and Odette told you to do, and it cost you everything you’ve ever wanted.
Pulling out a spoon, I rip off the top of my snack and toss it in the trash but not before stopping in front of Mills. “Was there something I could help you with? Or were you trying to get that second question answered?”
“I think we’ve had enough for one night.” I snort through my nose and make my way back to my room before Mills’s voice stops me again with more startling news. “Solange heard about those two guys.”
Slowly, very slowly, I turn back around to face him. I wish there was a freaking light on because I can’t tell if he’s serious or if he’s trying to freak me out some more.
“How would you know that?”
“I know a lot of things.”
I squeeze my metal spoon. I wonder if someone has ever shanked another individual with one before. “Then you’d know your answer to your second question.”
“That’s the funny part—“ He takes a step forward, and I counter it with one back. I’m not completely scared of him, even though I should be, but I don’t trust his actions and how I feel afterward. “—I can’t find a thing about a guy named Vince.”
“Look harder,” I mutter. “He’s a real person, trust me.” I salute him with the end of my utensil. “Good luck.”
Twirling back around, I enter my bedroom and still feel him casting over me like a shadow. I’d yell at him again, but it obviously doesn’t seem to affect him, and I have a full day tomorrow.
I have an interview at a bar to make some money to get by while I look for another internship or maybe another school that will accept me. I’ve not entirely given up until I know I’ve tried to shove through every door to obtain my dream. No one is going to stop me. I’m more headstrong than that.
“Amirah.” I pause before my knee hits the mattress, and I climb up. “Turn them in.”
It’s almost a plea.
As if, for some reason, either he can’t do it, or he wants me to prove myself to him somehow. All in all, I don’t have to do anything. I know he has demons he has to work out with what took place, but he doesn’t have to live with the aftermath.
“Why don’t you?”
He’s silent for a moment, which gets me to turn around to look at him. He appears tired and messed up. That he can’t get any sleep because he has bad dreams too.
Nightmares we all gave him.
“Well?” I ask gently.
His grays lined in blue hold me hostage when he says, “Because it’ll get me to forgive you.”
Goosebumps prick my skin at his olive branch, but I’m still skeptical. Maybe he wants to get past this so much that he’ll try any avenue to make it happen. Perhaps he’s not as fucked up and insane as I believed him to be.
“I want your forgiveness,” I reply honestly. “You don’t know how much. But not at that cost. Not at my dad’s sanity.”
I move up my bed and sit Indian-style. Mills isn’t there when I look back, more than likely tired himself and of my lack of responding to what he wants.
Eating two bites of my yogurt, I try to focus on Grace and Frankie on TV but, of course, fall short. My peace is shattered when the man in this penthouse won’t allow it to blossom. I don’t know when I fall asleep, but I’m startled awake from another nightmare.
Jerking up, I’m held down by an arm draped over my waist, keeping me grounded underneath a comforter. On the verge of freaking out, I’m gently pulled to the left and into a warm, hard body.
“Go to sleep, Rus. No one is going to hurt you.” Mills’s voice is gruff and half-asleep, but it holds a gentleness to it which warms the pit of my stomach.
“What are you doing in my—“
“Shhh…” He drags me closer, his chin resting on the top of my head as if he’s done it a million times.
This man has broken into my place, threatened to rape me, shredded my career and internship, and now he’s sleeping beside me on top of the covers.
“I’m here because you screamed…again.”
“I did?” I whisper, not knowing if I should tell him to get off me or revel that another human body that’s already rescued me is doing it again.
“Mhm.”
“Mills?”
“What?”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Why are you in my bed?”
“I just told you why.”
“I don’t need a protector when I have a bad dream,” I whisper, feeling like more of an inconvenience.
Even though I didn’t invite him here.
“Yeah…you do.” I open my mouth when he speaks again. “Odette and Solange are on their way here.”
My eyes widen in the dark, but Mills is as impassive as a stone wall. And that’s what he feels like beside me.
A warm wall.
“How do you know? Did you go through my phone?”
What in the hell are they going to do? Bring a group of men with them this time to watch?
“No,” Mills mutters as my stomach begins to knot in anticipation. “I went through their phones.”
“How?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” he grumbles off a sigh.
“And you keep busting into my personal space without asking.”
“I’m trying to get used to it.” I turn my head to look at him, then quickly regret it because I’m right underneath his chin, and the faint smell of weed comes off his shirt.
“Used to what?”
“Go to sleep, Rus.” The overhanging fan spins and hums above us, and I find myself staring at it for a few seconds before my squirminess gets the best of me.
“Is it hard to…” I expect him to snap at me, but surprisingly he doesn’t.
“Hard to what?”
“Be touched.”
“Depends on who it is, I think.”
“Oh.” I move my head to stare at the ceiling again when Mills’s long fingers gently grip my face, holding me still and close.
“I wish it wasn’t you,” he mumbles, his thumb slowly brushing down my chin. “I used to be a pretty cool guy.”
“Me too.”
“Close your eyes. You have a big day tomorrow.” My job interview. “I’ll meet up with your sister dearests on your behalf...and mine.”
“But—“
“Less talking, more sleeping.” I let out a little huff in defeat, and, I swear within minutes, I’m out like a light with his arm still draped over me in a vigilant blanket.
I don’t know what I want, but I do know that I don’t mind touching Amirah.
In fact, I woke up to her jerking awake and my forearm wrapped around her middle to keep her from feeling alone and lost in nightmares that she’s suffering from. To have your freedom taken and your body violated isn’t something that I’d put my worst enemy through.
Yeah.
Or so I thought.
Throwing Odette, Solange, or Juliette to a pack of handsy wolves doesn’t fuck with me as much as it did with Amirah. I’m cloaking my anger with the need to do it myself, but how do you bullshit a bullshitter? I’m the perfect example of someone who likes to mess around and start some shit with my brothers; however, I’m not blind enough to know what I want.
And what I want shouldn’t be who I was holding in the middle of the night.
Nothing in my body froze up at the feel of her, and I definitely didn’t flinch back when I realized how close we were. How soft she felt against me, and her scent only drove me deeper into a state of calm.
She’s having issues with what happened to her, more so than I, because I don’t wake up in sweats. It’s more so when I’m awake that I have problems when my mind rewinds to solve my own set of issues.
Since Emmy is pregnant again, I sent her home to rest after our secret shopping trip, where I learned of Amirah’s real thoughts. My best friend won’t sit still for long, but while she is with her family, she pulled up Solange’s text messages, and they were vile. The most I’ve ever seen against a family member in my life.
The dumb bitch should’ve used a damn burner for the shit she said because one little call to the cops about what she attempted to pull with her youngest sister, and she’d be behind bars.
I’m beginning to think Amirah is adopted, and that’s why she hates her so much. I can’t conjure up another reason why other than jealousy. Or the fact that Amirah has built her life for herself and on her own. Solange is obsessed with inflicting mental pain on Amirah, and the two men I splattered on a New York sidewalk was my subtle warning.
Even though Solange will more than likely never guess it was me.
Under Emmy’s further investigation, she discovered that Amirah’s bank account is made up of paychecks. A few deposits are made from time to time from her father, but other than that, she’s self-sufficient. Which makes sense because she told me that she had a job interview today.
I couldn’t help but be surprised when I heard it. But when Emmy’s text came in late at night—since she’s been having as much trouble sleeping as I have—she confirmed Amirah’s financials. All her schooling, she mostly paid for herself, and I ripped that away. The internship wasn't hard.
However, the more shit that comes to light, the more old Mills begins to feel guilty. The more rage inside me begins to melt. She does this to me, and I’m not sure if I like it or despise it. Bishop and Marty have always stated that I’m soft, but it didn’t bother me as it does now.
I don't want to let this go, but with Amirah, I want to drop revenge on its ass and...I don't know what else happens after that. I won't allow myself to go off that far in my brain. Regardless, I don't want Amirah to be the only one to reap the consequences for not wanting to keep me.
So, this morning, I leave her peacefully sleeping in her bed. Kyson said he'd do whatever I needed, and today, I need him to silently stalk her while I wait for Odette and Solange to show up at her place.
Besides, I wanted to give her space to change and get ready. Not to hover over her like a bodyguard already pressing his luck with breaking into the penthouse a few times already.
Not that it fucking matters.
With a black coffee and sprinkled donut in hand, I watch New York wake and bustle around. I took a walk to clear my head and talked to Emmy on the phone, ensuring her that I'm fine for the eighth time on just that call alone.
When she finds out that Kyson is with me in the Big Apple, she chills out, and I promise to come to her place this weekend for dinner. Though, when I do agree, my first thought of leaving Amirah alone hits the forefront of my brain, but if everything goes according to plan today, she'll have two less siblings.
