As she talks about orgies, double penetration, girl-on-girl action, and being tied up, I want to tear those fucking bastards who forced her into this from limb to limb. I honestly think I could murder these sick perverts and feel zero remorse. I’d be doing the world a favor wiping this scum off the face of the Earth.
They better hope I never face them because I’m liable to go nuclear. The urge to annihilate these sick fucks isn’t something that will disappear overnight. If ever.
I want to kill anyone who laid a finger on my sweet, innocent girl.
She was only a kid. She shouldn’t have even known about this stuff, let alone been forced into doing it.
Tension is heavy in the air. Horror blatant on all our faces. When Selena starts describing the punishment Freddie and Hudson would dole out if she refused to do something, whenever she cried, or when she did something they deemed inappropriate, I can barely sit still. The need to hit something rides me hard. Pain spears my entire body like someone is stabbing me all over, pushing the knife in deep.
My eyes meet my brother’s, and there is so much pain and sorrow in his gaze it almost undoes me. I grip Selena’s hand harder, needing her touch to keep me from losing it. To remind me she got out. That she’s okay.
“On Saturdays, we had to perform in these shows,” she continues. “We had our roles and were given costumes, and if we didn’t execute our parts perfectly, Freddie would punish us Sunday night when all the clients had left.”
“Do you need to take a break?” Sinead asks after Selena finishes explaining exactly what these shows entailed.
Those disgusting bastards made her have sex with other kidnapped slaves on a stage for their sick enjoyment. I’m battling tears. And wild rage. And my heart is trying to beat a path out of my chest it’s pounding so fast.
“I’m fine,” Selena says in a monotone voice.
“How did you come to be sold to Clive Lawrence?” Keven asks, and I’m grateful he’s switching the subject. Because I’m hanging on by a thread.
“As I got older, I became more disobedient,” she says. “By that time, I’d pretty much lost the will to survive. Sometimes, I goaded the guards on purpose, hoping they’d kill me. I was in so much inner pain,” she adds in a whisper, her voice all choked up as emotion breaks through the wall she’s erected.
I close my eyes, laying my head against hers, inhaling her scent, and struggling to keep my composure. I wrap both my arms around her, hugging her tight.
She holds on to my arm, and she sounds numb again as she speaks. “Master Allen said I forced him into selling me. That I was his favorite and he would have kept me there longer if I had only behaved. But it was bullshit. The men that frequented the island liked them young, and as I was approaching fourteen, I knew my days were numbered.”
I chew on the inside of my mouth to stop myself from shouting. Those sick, fucking, perverted bastards all deserve to burn in hell for what they’ve done to my gorgeous girl and to countless others.
“I was put up for auction again, and that asshole Cassius, I mean Lawrence, bought me.”
“We know you escaped within twenty-four hours of landing back on US soil,” SSA Clement says, flicking through the file. “So, I have to ask if Clive Lawrence touched you against your will.”
Selena’s eyes burn with anger as she glares at the SSA. “Have you not been listening?” she shouts. “He was a client on the island! I was his favorite,” she spits out. “He was the first one to rape me, and he raped me repeatedly over the years I was imprisoned. He raped me on the boat on the way from the island to Texas, and he let his men take turns too. He—"
Nausea swims up my throat and I gag, halting Selena mid-sentence. Kev slides a trash can underneath my face, and I hover over it as my stomach churns and my heart pounds. When the nausea passes and I don’t think I’ll puke, I stand, needing to get out of this room. I need air. I sway as my legs threaten to go out from under me. Kev reaches for me, offering a steady arm.
“Keanu.” Selena’s anguished tone guts me. I hold onto my brother’s arm as I face the woman I love. She rises, pain etched across her beautiful face.
“I’m sorry, Sel, but I can’t listen to this anymore.”
She cups my face. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Do not apologize,” I roar, shaking her off as I lose control of my tenuous emotions.
“Keanu.” Keven’s tone warns me to keep it together.
“Shit, Sel, I’m sorry.” I rest my forehead against hers. “I’m not angry at you. I just… I need some breathing space. I need to clear my head. I—”
“I understand. It’s fine.” She takes my hands, squeezing tight. “I love you, and I hate seeing you in pain. Take whatever time you need.”
“We can stop, Selena,” Sinead says. “Reconvene another day.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’d like to continue. I’d prefer to tell you everything now.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Selena eyeballs Keven, and some silent communication passes between them. Then he’s steering me out of the room, thrusting a bottle of water in my chest and telling me to follow him.
I don’t know how I manage to put one foot in front of the other, but I do. I’ve no clue where we’re going, but I follow my brother to an impressive gym on the top floor of the building, slurping water as I walk.
Kev strides toward the punching bag, holding it as he turns to face me. “Go for it. Let it all out.”
I drop my jacket on the ground and rip my shirt up over my head. It floats to the floor as I pummel my fists into the bag, hitting it over and over, allowing my frustration and rage to fuel each punch.
By the time I’m done, sweat drips down my face and covers my back and I’m breathing heavily.
“Better?” Kev asks.
I shrug. “For now.” Because, honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to process these latest revelations.
“Come with me,” Kev says, tossing my jacket and shirt at me.
I follow him through a side door, up a flight of stairs, and out onto the roof. The weather is still mild, even though we are into October now, but there’s a decent breeze at this height, and I welcome the feel of it ghosting over my sweat-slickened skin.
“Selena is one of the bravest women I’ve ever met,” Keven tells me as we stand shoulder to shoulder, staring at Boston Common in the distance. “And that is one of the most shocking stories I’ve ever heard. And, trust me, I’ve heard some bad shit.”
He looks sideways at me. “I’m guessing this played a part in your breakup.” I nod. “But you’re back together now,” he adds. “And it’s the real deal.”
“It is,” I say, using my shirt to mop my damp brow. “She’s the one.”
“Then, you need to talk to someone, Keanu.” His eyes bore a hole in mine. “She’s not the only one who needs to process that fucked-up shit.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. “I need to be there for her.”
He grips me by the shoulders. “You already are. But you’re no use to her if you can’t get a handle on your own feelings. Anyone would be the same in your shoes.” He lets go of me. “Hell, I want to destroy these fuckers for what they’ve done to her, and I barely know Selena. I can only imagine the shit going through your brain.”
“We’ve never talked about it in detail,” I admit, sliding my arms into my shirt. “And I used to wonder if my imagination was worse than knowing the truth.” I swallow the hard lump in my throat as I button my shirt. “Now, I know it wasn’t, because I had no clue it was that bad.”
I hold my jacket to my chest, facing my brother head-on. “That fucker needs to pay. They all do, but we’ll start with him.”
“Agreed. We’ve just placed someone on the inside with Lawrence. We will get that sick bastard, but we need to find hard evidence or catch him in the act. It’s going to take some time to build a rock-solid case against him. And we can’t guarantee he won’t discover she’s living in Bo
ston in the meantime.”
“He can’t get to her, Kev. I will fucking take him out myself before I let him anywhere near Selena.”
“No heroics, Keanu. The last thing Selena needs is you locked up for murder. We’ll keep her safe. I promise. Morgan Security is the shit, and those guys would die before they’d let anything happen to her. And my boss is assigning an agent to her full-time. He’s also got an undercover guy and a full-time agent on Lawrence. Plus, the guy’s a public figure and he’s got cameras on him twenty-four-seven. He won’t be able to do much without someone capturing it on film.” He grips my shoulders again. “He’s not getting near Selena, brother. And that’s a fucking promise.”
23
Selena
I meet with Denise every morning the following week as I spiral in the aftermath of the FBI meeting. I’m proud of myself for telling them everything, but reliving it all has brought everything to the forefront of my mind again, and I’m struggling to cope.
Keanu provides steady support, reassuring me he’s going nowhere, that he doesn’t feel any differently about me, and holding me in the middle of the night when I wake up screaming, but he’s quieter than normal, and I think he’s struggling too.
My natural inclination is to dive deep into myself. To lock out the world. Hold onto the pain and bury myself even deeper. But I’m trying not to do that.
For me.
For the man I love.
For my sanity.
Hence, the daily therapy sessions, and I’m going about my routine as usual. Attending classes, swimming, going to yoga, talking with Mom, and hanging out with Todd and Kelly.
But it’s difficult because that monster is still out there. Way too close for comfort. I’m on edge. Constantly looking over my shoulder. Waiting for the moment he finds me.
So, when my agent Jessica calls, asking to reschedule my shoot with Miranda Fanning to this weekend, I jump at the opportunity to get out of the city. Now that Keanu’s schedule has been cleared, he is free to come with me, and I’m excited for our weekend in the Big Apple.
Keanu canceled all planned shoots last week, telling his agent Frankie he wasn’t available for the foreseeable future. He wants to be there for me, but I wasn’t comfortable with him sacrificing his career until he explained he’s not that into modeling anymore. That he’s considering quitting for good. It would be a shame, because he’s such a natural in front of the camera, but if he’s not feeling it, he’s not feeling it. No one should be forced to do something they don’t enjoy, and Keanu is fortunate he has the financial means to follow his heart. He’s also decided he doesn’t want to set up a modeling agency when he graduates Harvard. He has set his sights on creating his own fashion label. It’s a great idea, and I told him that.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to fly us,” I tell James, Keanu’s dad, as we board the Kennedy family jet. Although, calling it a jet isn’t doing the plush plane justice.
“It’s not a chore. I love flying, and it’s my version of Dad’s taxi,” he quips, chuckling. “Make yourself at home,” he adds. “We’ll be taking off shortly.” He walks off in the direction of the cockpit.
“Wow.” I turn around, gawking at the lavish interiors. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so big.”
“That’s what all the girls say,” Kent supplies, cupping his crotch and thrusting his hips forward.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Kent.” Keanu drags his hands through his hair. Irritation is transparent on his face as he gestures in my direction.
“K, relax.” I place my hand on his arm. “It was funny, and Kent didn’t mean any harm.”
I know Keanu is only trying to protect me, but he can’t jump down everyone’s throats any time they make a suggestive comment. I’m determined to be more chilled out, because I know my mood is impacting my boyfriend. And he’s already dealing with the fallout from my revelations. I want him to relax and enjoy himself this weekend. For us to leave all the stress and tension on the tarmac and be a normal couple living it up in New York.
I run my fingers up his chest, locking my hands behind his neck. “We’re going to New York for the weekend.” I smile as I stretch up and press a quick kiss to his lips. “And it’s going to be awesome.”
“Damn straight,” Kent says, flopping in a chair behind us.
“You better not make me regret inviting you,” Keanu grumbles, sitting in a chair across from his brother, pulling me down beside him.
“You make it sound like I’m the antichrist,” Kent complains, reclining in his chair and kicking his feet up.
“Close, brother,” Keanu says, grinning. “Very close.”
* * *
“I’m beginning to think ‘supersize me’ is your family’s motto in life,” I tell Keanu after he’s given me a grand tour of the plush penthouse apartment the Kennedys own in New York. It’s prime real estate, overlooking Central Park, and only a few blocks from Miranda Fanning’s offices.
“Go big or go home,” Kent says, sauntering into the living room with a beer already in hand. He’s shirtless and shoeless, and I work hard to avoid ogling my boyfriend’s brother, but it’s hard because Kent is seriously ripped. Boy works out a lot, so I’m not surprised.
“You’ve got a fascination with all things big, huh?” I joke, accepting the bottle of water he offers me, while Keanu swipes his beer.
“She finally understands.” Kent faux rolls his eyes before winking. The second the bottle leaves Keanu’s lips, Kent steals it back. “Get your own beer, asshole.”
“Did someone say beer?” a strange male says, and I scream as a tall good-looking guy with blond hair steps into the room.
“It’s okay. Brad’s a friend,” Keanu says, instantly hauling me into his side, running his hand up and down my spine.
“Sorry,” Brad says, stepping sideways to let a gorgeous brunette into the room. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“Looking sexy as fuck, Red,” Kent says, unashamedly eye-fucking the brunette.
“I’m convinced you have a death wish.” Brad shakes his head. “Quit hitting on my woman, or I’ll lay you flat on your ass.”
“I’d love to see you try,” Kent says, grabbing the brunette into his arms.
“Get your hand off my arse, Kent, or I’ll be the one laying you out flat.” The brunette pins him with a challenging look, and Kent grins like all his Sundays have come at once.
“I’ll get flat on my back for you anytime, Red.” He wiggles his brows. “You only have to ask.”
“Control your mongrel,” Brad says, spearing Keanu with a look. “Before I muzzle him.”
“Down, boy,” Keanu says, tugging Kent back. “Don’t tempt me to give McConaughey the green light.”
“What are you guys doing here anyway?” Kent asks, flipping his brother off.
“We’ve been in town for a couple days. Rachel had some meetings,” Brad says, slinging his arm around the woman’s waist. “Ky said it was okay to stay here, but we can check into a hotel if we’re in the way.”
“It’s cool, man,” Keanu says. “There are plenty of bedrooms.”
“Is that really the truth, Red?” Kent smirks at the woman who I assume is Rachel. “Or did you find out I was hitting New York for the weekend and you just had to be here.”
Rachel rolls her eyes, shucking out of Brad’s hold and walking toward us. “If your ego gets any bigger, you’ll orbit into space,” she says, shoulder-checking Kent as she makes a beeline for me.
He laughs. “There’s nothing wrong with my ego, Red. It’s just your eyes that need examining.” He wraps an arm around her from behind. “When are you going to ditch that pussy and date a real man?”
“My man is all man,” Rachel purrs, slanting lustful eyes at Brad. “We’d be happy to give you a demonstration anytime. You could use the pointers.”
“Now, I know you’re just yanking my chain,” Kent says as Brad grabs him into a headlock.
“That’s it. I’m throwing you off the balcon
y,” Brad jokes. Or at least, I think he’s joking.
“I’d like to say they’re not usually like this,” Rachel says, smiling at me. “But you’re living with Kent, so you get it.”
“She’s not living with Kent!” Keanu protests, sulking, and I can’t help laughing.
“Oh, man. Don’t you start.” Rachel rolls her eyes, thrusting out her hand. “Hi, Selena. I’m Rachel.”
It all clicked into place when I heard their names. I know who they are. Rachel and Brad are best friends with Faye and Kyler, and Brad basically grew up with the Kennedys. Now, Rachel’s accent makes sense because I remember she’s Faye’s Irish friend. I’ve heard Keanu mention them over the years, but I’ve never met either of them.
“You’re the one who’s going to be working with Miranda.” Keanu told me about Rachel securing a much sought-after internship with Miranda Fanning. She’s moving to New York after graduating from design school in the summer, and Brad is moving with her.
“That’s me.” We shake hands briefly. “Miranda showed me some of the clothes she’s chosen for you to wear at the shoot tomorrow, and oh my God, they are amazing.” She enunciates the last word, rolling it off her tongue. “You’re going to look so hot in them!”
Her excitement is infectious, and I smile. “I can’t wait.”
Kent heads out to a party, having made plans to meet up with some girl he hooked up with the last time he was in New York. I really hope he steers clear of drugs tonight. Despite his protests, I worry it’ll extend beyond recreational use. That he’ll become addicted. Those bastards who kidnapped me spent years shooting shit into my veins and I’d become dependent. Getting clean was sheer hell, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.
I’ve shared my concerns with Kent, but he told me not to worry.
That he has it under control.
Only, I know better.
We probably should have gone out with him tonight, but I don’t want to because I have an early start in the morning. So, we stay in with Rachel and Brad. We order takeout, chat for a while, and watch a movie. It’s nice. Normal. And I’m feeling way more relaxed now that we’re out of Boston.
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