Tamed: A Huntress Spin-off Novel (4 page)

As minutes ticked by, the comfort I felt in Eli’s presence was fading, turning cold, and I was left with nothing but the darkness closing in on the light from the sunshine he gave to me.

I let out a breath and frowned. The gloomy feeling was coming back stronger than ever. I turned off my bedroom light and climbed in bed. I wanted to fall asleep and forget about Preston, but I was alone in total sereneness, giving my mind free reign to wander back. My mind was spinning with memories of his unwanted touch, the beer on his breath, his hand down there, invading my body.

Suffering in sorrow, I burst into tears. It was deep, hard, and endless. Seconds, the longest seconds I have ever had to live, minutes, then an hour went by and I was still weeping with no sign of it letting up. I felt so violated.

My door suddenly clicked open, and the light from the hallway shined through my room as Taylor peaked his head in.

“Chelsea and I are coming in. I hope it’s okay.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t need to, because I knew he would stay with me even if I refused his company. I closed my eyes once more and sniffled.

As darkness fell over me once more, I felt them climb on the bed, and as Chelsea lay beside me, her hard, pregnant stomach pressed against my back and her hand rested on my arm while Taylor lay in front of me.

“Are you okay?” Chelsea asked.

I couldn’t find my voice. I was too wrapped up in my sorrow to get the words out.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” Taylor said.

“Okay,” I choked out.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Chelsea asked.

“No…I just want to forget.”

The door clicked open once more, and Andie stood in the doorway, uncertain if she should come inside.

“Paige.” Her voice was soft, almost soothing as she called out to me.

“Come on in, Andie. It’s a slumber party tonight,” Taylor said.

She came in, and climbed on the bed and lay her head on my legs.

No one said anything after that, and for that, I was relieved. I didn’t want to talk. Just like with Tessa, I knew that I wouldn’t ever get over tonight. I would bury it deep within, where it would forever stay an open wound. The damage was done.

Chapter Three

The light from the bright morning sun shining through my bedroom windows was enough to make a nun swear. I sat up, wincing and holding my pounding head. I had a serious hangover, and I had every intention of getting up and closing my drapes, but quickly stopped when I saw my dad sitting in my vanity chair by the end of the bed. I sat there unmoving, afraid to even move as his tired, angry eyes never left mine. He still had his work clothes on. The top three buttons were undone as his black and blue striped tie hung loosely around his neck.

“My house is destroyed.”

I ran my hand through my unkempt hair. “It’s fixable, though.”

I was leaning more toward humor, but the tone of my voice made it sound like I was serious and didn’t give two shits. I did. I hated seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

He shrugged. “I’m not so sure you deserve your present.”

He leaned forward, picking up a square box wrapped in purple colored wrapping paper. “A welcome home present. It’s not like I have a choice, though. It did cost a pretty penny so there better be some use to it.” He sat it on the bed.

I groaned on the inside. I was such an ass. He bought me a present and I destroyed his house.
Way to go, Paige.

His eyes closed briefly as he exhaled. “Random teenagers undergarments floating around in my pool—the thong that was clogging up the filter. Broken windows, a broken banister, throw up everywhere. Oh, and you’re going to love this one: a naked couple passed out in my bed.
My
bed; not yours, Paige, but mine. And to top it all off, you almost got raped. Not the kind of bullshit I want to have to deal with after having a very tiring day at work.”

“Serious conversations aren’t exactly my thing in the morning.”

He huffed. “Paige!”

I winced. “Dad, please don’t shout. My head is killing me. I feel really bad that you bought me a present and I messed up the house, okay? But I can’t go back and change it.”

His brows rose as the corners of his mouth turned up into a small smile. “Oh, currently hung over, are we? Well, maybe I should talk a little quieter,” His voice grew louder with every word.

I groaned and grabbed my pillow, placing it over my face.

“Did you even know this guy before you decided to show a tour of your room?”

I was suddenly sucked back into the events of last night. The eyes of a monster looking down at me as he forced himself upon me. That face, with the most malicious eyes I had ever seen that made my blood run cold. The struggle to break free.

I looked down as the deep pain of sorrow rose from the pit of my stomach. I was fighting to keep control of my emotions. I was good at that.
Don’t think of that night, Paige. Think of something good. Something safe.
Then he appeared. The face of the angel who saved me, wiping away every nasty, evil memory that hurt so much to think about.

“I need you to cooperate with me here. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I at least need his name so the police can look for him.”

My eyes grew wide as the fear of having to see Preston again made me nauseated. If the police were to get involved, there was a very good chance that I would have to face him, and I would do anything to keep that from happening. I needed last night to be in the past where it belonged. So I lied.

“I don’t know who he is. I don’t know where he lives, and I can’t remember his name. I was drunk.” My voice grew louder the more irritated I became.

“Can you at least give me a description? I need something here. That prick is
not
getting away with touching my daughter!”

“Dad, please!” I begged as I looked down.

My father moved from his chair and sat on my bed beside me, putting his hands on either side of my face as he forced me to look into his concerned, sad, brown eyes.

“I’m sorry. We can talk about it later. Ever since the divorce, you’ve gone downhill…I think Tessa really drove you over the edge, though. I don’t know how to fix you. The therapist seemed to work for a while, but you went back to your old ways eventually. I thought sending you away would help you escape what happened, but now I know that it didn’t help at all. I had to keep you out of trouble, and that was the only way I knew how.”

Maybe it was because of the lack of attention I got at home.

“I don’t like talking about my past. Don’t bring it up,” I said with an edge to my voice as I scowled.

“You’re okay, though? After what happened last night.” He looked at the cut on my lip, shaking his head as anger flashed across his eyes.

I nodded. “I’m okay.”

I wasn’t okay, but admitting that I was hurting would have prolonged the conversation when I was already begging my mind to forget.

A soft knock at my door was my saving grace.

“Come in,” my father said.

The uncomfortable pressure I felt while he questioned me immediately lifted as soon as the attention was no longer on me, and that was how I wanted it to stay.

A tall, slender, bleach blonde woman, who had her hair pulled back in a tight bun, walked in. She gave a tight smile as she played with the diamond necklace around her neck.

“Sir, there is an important call waiting.” She must have been his personal assistant.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Okay, Lena, I will be right there.”

He grabbed the present from the end of my bed and placed it in my lap. “Open it.”

I ripped the wrapping paper off, opened the box, and pushed the white and purple tissue paper aside to see a
Fendi
, petite,
2Jours
monster tote bag.

I beamed. Oh, it was so beautiful. “Thanks, Dad. I know I don’t deserve it.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek.

“Enjoy it. Just know that if you do anything stupid like this again, it will be mine until I decide to give it back to you.” He looked at me apologetically. “I don’t mean to cut our time short, but I better go. I’m working on a big case.”

I rolled my eyes. He was always working on a big case. Fortunately, for me, I was used to him getting whisked away at any time to his law firm, or getting stuck in his home office on conference calls, so I learned not to take it to heart at a young age.

“Okay, I guess I will see you around.”

He kissed my forehead and stood. “We’ll have dinner soon. I told Charlotte to leave the mess for you.”

My brows rose. “Charlotte, Dad?”

He shook his head, closing his eyes briefly, as if he made a mistake. “Ms. Schultz to you.”

“Since when do you call the housekeeper Charlotte?”

He made his way to the door, ignoring my question. “You have house duty today. No more parties and stay out of trouble.”

I chuckled. “Okay.”
That may or may not happen.

He gave me a stern look. “I mean it, Paige.”

When he left, I was surrounded in the silence I dreaded so much. I took in a breath. I needed air. I needed something to take the hurt away, but nothing ever did. I was miserable, and it was getting harder to try to hide it. I was trying to survive when all I felt was hopelessness as I struggled to climb out of the black hole I fell down years ago.

I had to get out of this room. I couldn’t handle the quietness any longer. I jumped out of bed and sat down at my vanity, frowning at the cut on my lip. I winced as I ran my finger over the cut.

“Sore.”

Reaching for my makeup bag, I took out my mocha, brown lip gloss and coated my lips until the nasty cut was barely even noticeable. Just how I wanted it. If it was out of sight, there was little chance anyone would notice it, which would save me from having to answer questions I would much rather avoid.

I breathed through the heavy weight that pained my very being and walked as fast as I could out of the room, in a hurry to run away from the sereneness that allowed thoughts to wander back to the deep, dark places of my mind that I never wanted to visit again.

The mansion was an absolute mess, reminding me why I preferred to go to parties instead of actually throwing them. The cleanup. As I made my way downstairs, stepping over solo cups and broken glass that was scattered all around, I heard Taylor’s voice coming from the living room.

I exhaled. “Damn it,” I said through gritted teeth.

Taylor was the last person I wanted to see. I knew he would want answers just like my father did, but I wouldn’t give him any. I was trying to move on and let what happened last night sail away into the past, and I couldn’t do that when they were only forcing me to remember. It was impossible to sneak past the living room and into the kitchen without him noticing me. Oh well, I guess I was just going to have to deal with it.

I walked down the staircase and glanced into the living room where Taylor and Chelsea, his tall, very beautiful, like model beautiful, girlfriend with long, blonde locks were sitting down watching a movie. I hoped they wouldn’t stop me if they saw me. I didn’t want to talk about last night.

I hurried into the kitchen, where bottles of alcohol and solo cups covered the granite countertops and breakfast bar. A blue bra hung from the matte, black chandelier, and chocolate syrup and whip cream, of all things, was smudged all over the floor, as if it was used as a slip n slide.

I stood by the entryway of the kitchen, looking around. I was absolutely astounded by the mess. I could have cared less what they did last night, but now that I was completely sober and had to clean up the mess with a monster hangover, I was pretty damn irritated.

I opened the paneled refrigerator, took out the orange juice, and poured myself a drink. I turned and grabbed the vodka from the counter and poured it in my orange juice, deciding to make a
Screwdriver
. I felt like utter shit. Plus, the constant sorrow that weighed me down dragged me farther into the darkness. Most days I was able to brush it off and not think so much about my regret, but today, I just couldn’t…not after last night.

I had never been sexually assaulted and smacked around by a guy before. After the shock of what happened settled in during the night, the misery that clouded my mind and body had worsened. I was hoping a little alcohol would take the edge off. I took a gulp as the vodka and orange juice filled my mouth, and it was strong. I put more than what I should have, but it was intentional.

I felt my body tense up as Taylor and Chelsea walked in the kitchen. I sat my glass down and wiped my mouth. Taylor, with a grin on his face, whispered something to Chelsea, who then let out a chuckle as she elbowed him in the stomach. He must have been teasing her. Typical Taylor.

Taylor sat down at the breakfast bar. “Hey, rebel.”

I pursed my lips. “Very funny.”

“You sure know how to throw one hell of a party,” Chelsea said.

“You might even do it better than Violet,” Taylor said.

“Violet?”

“Yep, she’s a petite, feisty little thing. I’m sure you’ll meet her eventually,” Taylor said.

My eyes widened as Chelsea reached for her glass of orange juice that she left on the counter. It wasn’t until that moment that I noticed I had stupidly placed my glass right next to hers and, of course, she grabbed mine.

I gasped and looked down at her swollen, pregnant belly. “No!”

By the time I reached for the glass, the orange juice was already rushing into her mouth. Her eyes grew wide as she spit the drink back out and began to cough. Taylor, who sat directly across from where she stood, gasped and shot up out of his seat as the juice sprayed all over his face.

“What the hell, woman!”

“Vodka…a lot of vodka,” Chelsea managed to say in between coughs.

Taylor scowled. “Really, Paige. She is pregnant!”

“Hey, I didn’t know she was going to drink
my
juice.”

“What are you doing drinking vodka this early in the morning?”

I folded my arms. “Well, what’s it to you? You drank a lot when you broke up with Chelsea. You and that Isaac guy had plenty of women here, drinking tons and having sex.”

“You did?” Chelsea’s tone was high with surprise.

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal when to him, it was. He didn’t want her to know how ugly and mean he became when they went their separate ways. Alcohol and women were his medicine, just like alcohol was mine now. After he saw Chelsea with someone else, it opened his eyes. He knew he had to get her back, so he pushed the booze aside and no longer felt like he needed to hide the fact that he was showing other women a good time. So he set his sights on Gianna, on purpose of course, because she lived at the manor he moved in to. Jealousy was the game they played, and in no time the both of them were back in the other’s arms once again.

“It was only a couple of times. I was feeling sorry for myself and the bullshit I constantly had to deal with. It became too much, so I started to drink.” He frowned as he pointed his finger at me. “You were the reason I broke up with her.”

I gasped, feeling a sting of hurt. “What?! I never came between you two. I was doing my own thing.”

“Exactly. You were doing all the wrong things and I had to try to keep you out of trouble.”