But I can’t deny it looks exactly like Marissa said. My stomach knots itself and a tightness squeezes my chest.
He’s all over her.
Gemma’s gaze finds mine, like she wants to make sure I see before Carter kisses her.
My breathing is heavy, fraught with the tension of my rising anger.
Then she rips her mouth from Carter’s with a cry that pierces through the haze. It’s hard to hear over the heavy beat of EDM, but I make out the anguish crumpling her face. She’s desperate and pleading, reaching out to grab hold of people as Carter hauls her away.
Fuck.
The scene rearranges, re-cast in the harsh light of the truth.
I search the room for Alec and Devlin as my veins freeze out the hot rush of anger.
“Hey!” Marissa yells when I push past her.
My heart pounds in time with the music, pulse speeding up as I urgently look for help.
It doesn’t matter if Gemma hates me. I’m not going to leave her. She’s getting my help whether she needs it or not.
Everything screams at me. I need to get Gemma away from Carter.
Thirty-Three
Gemma
It’s like last time all over again. Carter covers my back with his body.
Pained cries get stuck in my throat as Carter grinds on me. Tears burst forth like a wellspring.
“Please don’t do this!”
Carter mumbles to himself, an incoherent string of words. He’s too drunk for me to reason with.
His hands mesh with Matt’s in my head as he touches me, my assault in the past converging with the one currently playing out.
I’m barely able to draw air into my lungs as I hyperventilate. Panic collides with the awful memories of Matt, leaving me almost catatonic.
I have to do something! If I don’t save myself, no one else will. Alec is out there and has no idea I’m in trouble. Again.
It takes a monumental effort, but as Carter tugs uselessly at the waistband of my tight leather pants from behind, I bring my breathing under control. My throat is sore from screaming. I clench my fists in the covers, thinking I might be able to confuse Carter for a split second by covering his drunk ass with them.
My opportunity comes when Carter grunts and flips me over. I bounce on the mattress, rolling into action without waiting. I drive my knee towards his groin.
“Augh!” Carter shouts, crumpling over the edge of the bed.
This is my chance!
I scramble in a twisted mess of bedding to get away. Then he grabs me again.
“No!”
My pulse rockets out of control. My chance to get away slips through my fingers as Carter pins me to the bed. It’s difficult to breathe with his entire weight crushing me.
“Bitch!” Carter snarls.
It must have been a glancing blow to his balls. Frustration slithers down my spine. I blink back more tears.
Carter slides his hands beneath my shirt and bra, going so roughly the shirt rips at the seams. He digs his fingers into my breasts until it hurts. I whimper pitifully as tears stream down my cheeks.
His breath coasts over my face. “You’re gonna wish y’didn’t pull that shit. Lucas likes his girls to play rough. But I like it when they take it.”
A silent sob wracks my body, precious air hissing between my clenched teeth.
Dread fills me. This isn’t like what happened with Matt. This is so much worse.
He pinches my nipples savagely, beady black eyes pinned on me, watching the way my face twists in pain and horror.
I turn my head away. I can’t look at Carter anymore. I close my eyes for a brief respite, wondering if it’s true what some articles say about the mind’s ability to shut off in extreme trauma situations. Maybe I’ll get a mental panic room to block it all out.
That would be lucky.
It’s sick that thoughts like that cross my mind.
Carter mistreats my breasts and drags his gross lips on my neck. I jerk, unable to sit there and take it, no matter the threat he poses.
It’s crystal clear to me now. Lucas is nothing like this. A rapist. My heart cracks open, the contents leaking onto the floor as I wish for Lucas to show up. He would never hurt me the way Carter is about to. The worst mind games Lucas plays don’t cut as deeply as this.
But even if he’s not the perilous monster Carter is, Lucas isn’t here to protect me.
I want him here. I want Lucas’ strong arms and gentle touch. I would give anything for Lucas to kidnap me right now. I’d gladly enter his cage and sing like a pretty canary.
If only he’d come for me. If only I hadn’t protected my heart by slamming walls around myself. For what? My pride? Look where that’s gotten me.
The tears burn my cheeks and sting my eyes, hot as they glide down my cheeks in a continuous river. My entire body stiffens as Carter fumbles to get my leather pants down.
I can’t decide if it’s a small blessing that I wore them tonight. They’re keeping him from raping me, but also prolonging the waves of torture as Carter gets frustrated and bites my neck.
A bang sounds in the room, making Carter and I startle violently. It’s the door hitting the wall hard enough to leave a dent as Lucas storms in. Alec and Devlin follow behind him.
“Get the hell off of her, Burns, or I’ll fucking kill you!” Lucas roars.
The relieved sob that spills from my lips isn’t human.
He’s here. He came. Somehow he knew I needed him.
Carter is ripped off me. I curl up in a protective ball, my body so tense I’m shivering. I flinch at the sound of fists hitting flesh and the sick grunts Carter makes as Lucas punches him.
“She wanted it!” Carter moans. “Askin’ for it dressed like that!”
“Are you really trying to justify why you would do this, fucker?” Lucas’ voice is almost unrecognizable, filled with an unmoored rage. “You assaulted her! You were going to rape her!”
His fists fly until Carter’s face is swollen and red, bleeding from the lip and a cut above his eye. Lucas doesn’t stop attacking him, savage in his punches. It should terrify me. But I’m not scared of Lucas. The violence in him on my behalf speaks to something deep inside me.
Alec and Devlin help me up from the bed with gentle, slow movements.
Alec takes point, keeping his hands where I can see them before gathering my hands in his. His face is lined with brittle tension, probably beating himself up for leaving me alone.
I shake my head, trying to convey it wasn’t his fault.
Alec hands me the keys. I clutch them to my chest like a lifeline. They mean freedom. A weapon of self defense. Control.
“You keep these. We’ll go in a minute.” His voice is soft, at odds with the sounds of Lucas tearing into Carter behind him. “Are you okay?”
I nod stiltedly, taking raw gulps of air. He takes my hands in his again and presses his forehead to them.
“I’m sorry, Gem. It’ll be okay now. You’re safe.”
Alec gets up and tries to push Lucas aside, but he’s too far gone in the violent storm of his protective fury. He has to drag Lucas away with Devlin’s help. Lucas stumbles aside, panting. Alec stands frozen over Carter for a second. Then in a burst of movement, he punches Carter in the stomach.
“Don’t ever come near my sister again! You hear me?”
Lucas flexes his bloody hands, poised to jump back in. His eyes are dangerous, the set of his jaw enraged. He swings his gaze at me and it takes a beat for the shadows to fly away.
“Do you want to press charges?” His voice is hard. He can barely keep himself in check. “My dad can help.”
It takes me a minute to find my voice, my tongue sluggish. My body is still on high alert as I sit up and hug myself.
“No. I just want it to go away.”
Lucas furrows his brow, but nods. He turns back to Carter, grabbing him by the collar to drag him up.
“If you ever touch Gemma again, talk to her—fuck, if you even
look her way,” Lucas gets in his face, “I will come after you. I will end you.”
I find it ironic that Lucas can offer me his dad’s lawyer services in one breath and turn around to threaten Carter in the next.
Carter’s sports a puffy eye that’ll turn into a black bruise later. His head lurches when he nods in acknowledgement.
All at once, I’m overcome by the need to get out of the room, fight-or-flight kicking in.
I slip away as the guys show off their testosterone. The music is too loud, the laughter grating. I have to get out of the house.
My stomach threatens to revisit my dinner as I stumble onto the mostly empty deck, the rain chasing everyone inside. It’s not enough. I have to leave. Right now.
The nausea intensifies as I hobble down the steps to the yard. Lightning flashes in the sky, followed by the rumble of thunder.
Rain pelts me, the frigid droplets snaking down my neck into my ripped shirt. I shudder.
In my head, the haunting memories of Matt coalesce with what just went down in a sickening amalgam. I get to the car and wilt against the side as I struggle through dry heaves.
I scrub at the slimy feeling on my skin. It doesn’t go away. I want to get as far away from Carter as possible. I rip open the door and hop in the CR-V, starting the ignition with shaking hands. Every shadow, every creaking tree limb, every echo of rainfall makes my heart falter.
I check my mirrors for my demons fifty times before I peel out.
I thought I had built my walls back up after Matt. I thought I was strong. But my fight-or-flight mode skews hard in flight’s direction.
The thunderstorm makes me jumpy as I drive down the winding mountain road. Each booming clap makes my heart skip a beat. I hope there isn’t another road blockage like last time.
I shriek when the wheel fights me, control flung from my hands for several heart-stopping seconds as the car fishtails on the slick road.
I regain control and tears blur my vision.
Headlights appear in the rearview mirror.
My eyes snap up to check the reflection as my body goes cold, the icy prickle rushing across my nerve endings.
I’m sick to my stomach, in a chokehold from my fear.
Carter is coming after me.
I floor it. He can’t have me.
Thirty-Four
Lucas
The second I finish directing Devlin to throw Carter and Marissa out, I turn to find Gemma missing.
She vanished.
An ice cold fist breaks through my chest to strangle my heart as I rush through the party, chasing after her with Carter’s blood on my sore knuckles.
My fury hasn’t abated. Carter deserves more than a beating for touching Gemma. I seethe with the need for revenge, a bloodthirsty focus blaring in my head. It’ll have to wait. Gemma is my first priority.
“You looking for the sad girl?”
I pause my edgy scan of the rain-soaked deck. There’s a lone smoker huddled under the overhang, a cigarette dangling between his fingers.
“Yeah.”
The smoker nods to the steps. “Tore off, like, five minutes ago.”
“Fuck.”
I’m already taking the steps two at a time as I barrel down them. I pat my pocket, sending out thanks to whatever force is listening when I feel the outline of my keys. I don’t have time to grab Alec or the others.
As I throw myself into the car and kick it into gear, I press a hand to the pounding beat in my chest. My heart hasn’t fully calmed from the last thirty minutes. As soon as I ensure Gemma’s safety from one situation, she goes and dives into another.
“Damn it, Gemma.”
I grip the wheel and click my wipers on the faster setting. I hope I’m not too late. The last time she took off on the unfamiliar road in the rain, it was a close call. That’s not a fate she can escape twice.
It’s hard to regulate my speed when my anxiety climbs. I know better, and yet I’m still flying around the bends quicker than I should.
Fear curdles in my gut.
Please let me catch up. Let her be safe.
Sweet relief spreads as soon as I spot the taillights of the CR-V.
“There you are!”
Gemma doesn’t slow down, though. She speeds up. I curse and follow her. I lay on the horn to get her attention, thinking she might not realize it’s me. It makes things worse.
Her car swerves, careening around the curve in the road too quickly.
“No! Gemma!”
A flash of lightning blinds me for a second.
The CR-V whips around, tires losing traction on the wet road. I suck in a breath and slam on the breaks as the CR-V finishes spinning out. We’re lined up for a head on collision.
I’ll go from her savior to the one that takes her life. My foot crushes the brake pedal. I’m too scared to speak, pleading in my head.
The CR-V skids to a stop, the whole car rocking with the force. Gemma did it, she stopped!
My elation shatters when I see the car still rocking. I manage to fully brake a few feet away. The Range Rover is barely in park before I sprint from the car.
The back wheel of the CR-V teeters off the edge of the road, dangling over the muddy slope with no traction. It’s too close for comfort.
“Gemma!” My lungs burn with the force of my scream.
I reach the CR-V and wrench the door open in a flurry of movement, blood smearing over my hand as the rain batters me. I reach in to cut the engine, then pull her from the car into the pouring rain.
She’s lucky. Another few inches and her car might have overbalanced to slide down the incline. I think we’re in the clear.
Lightning illuminates us, highlighting her broken face. My heart clenches.
“Gemma.” I tuck her against my body. “You’re okay. You’re fine.”
She trembles all over. I hold her tight as we’re battered by rain. The thunder makes her jump.
“You broke your promise.” I press my lips to the top of her head. “You promised to never scare me like that again. Then you did the same fucking thing.”
Gemma starts to cry, burying hiccuping gasps against my chest. I crush her body against mine, needing to envelope her in security. I’ll protect her.
Even if I don’t deserve her.
“Shh, sweetheart.” I stroke her hair. Words spill forth. I’m powerless to stop the confessions flowing out me. “I’m so sorry, Gemma. About everything. I should’ve fought harder. Spoken up. Protected you better. I never should’ve hurt you. I don’t want to do that. I only want to make you happy. I want you to smile always.”
Her hands burrow in my shirt, clinging to the material. I cup her face and tilt her head to see her eyes.
“I’ll always keep you safe now.”
Gemma nods, her face a painting of torment that spears my heart. With my unbloodied hand, I swipe the rain and tears away. Gemma’s lip wobbles and she stares up at me with big green eyes.
I kiss her, my lips a soft press against hers as I cradle her face like it’s fragile.
I know she’s not fragile. She’s strong. Fierce.
The girl who snuck up on me, who challenged me, who made me face the mask I’ve worn for so long.
Gemma is the only soul that’s ever sung in complete harmony with mine. I love her.
Thirty-Five
Gemma
The perilous patter of my heart gradually slows the tighter Lucas holds me.
Lucas soothes all the pain wrecking my heart and mind. His mouth moves soft and slow.
Everything falls away as we kiss.
We part on a breath, his forehead pressed to mine. His thumbs swipe over my cheeks in a light brush.
“Lucas,” I whisper.
“I care about you so much it scares me.” His confession isn’t complete. He has more to pour out. “Tell me what you need. If you want me to get up in front of the whole school and tell the truth, I will.”
A soggy chuckle leaves me.
“I�
�m serious.” Lucas rests his lips on my forehead. “I’ll explain that nothing happened with Marissa. I’ve only been with you since September.” He pulls back to meet my eyes with a serious look. “That video is old. From when we dated.”
“I’m sorry, too.” I blow out a breath and tuck my hands around his waist, burrowing into his body for warmth. One of his arms wraps around me and it feels right. “I was so dead set on believing what I thought of you in my head that I jumped to conclusions. It was easier, because it gave me an excuse to go back to where I was comfortable.”
A sad look crosses his face.
“I know. It’s a downer, but my life has been easier to deal with when I stay on the outside. Like photography. My pride makes me push people away. It was the only way I knew how to safeguard myself. If I believed the worst, I could go back to being on the outside by myself, where nothing could hurt me.”
“I don’t want anything to hurt you again.”
Lucas gives me a kiss that’s over too quickly.
“That’s improbable. What are you going to do, follow me around for the rest of my life and encase me in bubble wrap? Punch everything that ever crosses me?”
“I want to try. I only want to make things right. If that means you never want to speak to me again, well,” Lucas frowns, but forges on, “I’ll understand. I’ll make it happen. And no one will bother you or mess with you ever again.”
I tilt my head to the side, studying his contrite expression. I see the real Lucas—my Lucas. Not the fake one that pretends for the school, hiding himself from all of them.
“And if I want you to mess with me? I kind of like fighting with you.”
Lucas blinks, then relaxes. His expression shifts into a mix of relief and happiness.
“I like fighting with you, too, sweetheart.”
“It’s pretty fun.”
Lucas releases a breath. “Gemma.”
The lightning silhouettes the trees overhead and for a second the brightness makes him look like his namesake, an otherworldly saint. His gaze is intent.
Wicked Saint: Sinners and Saints Book 1 Page 22