Fidelity (Infidelity #5)(39)

The woodsy scent of Nox’s cologne mixed with the musk of our union would then lull me back to sleep until other scenes infiltrated my night.



The waves lapped the shore, creating a rhythm. The hand holding mine was strong and protective. I stared up at the light blue eyes as Nox and I strolled along the beach in Rye. My flat shoes morphed, their heels growing. I stumbled, each step more difficult as my shoes slid upon the pebbles. When I looked up from our intertwined fingers, the eyes were no longer swirled with love, but were infused with contempt.

As my heart again thundered, I tried to pull away from the now-iron grip. The scene had changed, erasing the beach as the song of waves faded into the mist and sadistic laughter rang in my ears. The laughter wasn’t for me, but for the other person with us. Bryce’s grip vibrated as he laughed at the desperation of his whore.

“Run,” I whispered to Chelsea. She couldn’t, paralyzed not by Bryce’s grip as I was, but by his stare.

I searched for the house, for Nox, or even Oren. They were gone. Chelsea, Bryce, and I were back in Chelsea’s room at Montague Manor. My stomach lurched at the whack of Bryce’s knuckles as his hand left mine and collided with Chelsea’s cheek. The sickening crack reverberated against the walls mere seconds before she crumpled to the floor.

I fell to the ground by her side, but the room was gone. My best friend was upon the floor, no longer in Savannah, but in our apartment in Palo Alto, her face battered. Though I reached for her, I wasn’t actually there; I was simply a bystander—a voyeur. My screams went unheard as a perpetrator rolled Chelsea’s body over and moved her hair from her face. His head shook as recognizable sadistic laughter only momentarily stalled his abuse. Just before resuming his attack, he muttered, “Wrong one.”



I woke with a start, knowing his voice. I’d known it all of my life.

Hugging the man I loved, I pushed the thoughts away. They weren’t real. They weren’t memories. I’d been in New York when Chelsea was attacked. I hadn’t seen it. It was my mind playing tricks on me.

She was safe, like my momma. Slowly, sleep resumed and so did the dreams.



Tension filled the Georgia night as my shoes slid upon the damp grass.

It wasn’t Chelsea paralyzed by Bryce’s cold eyes: it was me. I tried again to wake, to find Nox, but no one was near. Alton had gone to his office and Suzanna had bid us goodnight.

When had I looked to either of them for help? And yet in my desperation, I was.

Bryce’s words cut through the autumn air, his touch a jolt of dread diving deep to the pit of my stomach as my mind shifted from concern to panic. No longer in Rye, I was back in Savannah. What had I done? Why had I gone back?

The dread leached through me, from my stomach to my heart, and I knew what I hadn’t the time before. I knew that this time I couldn’t stop him.

“Darling, I’m getting off with you tonight, in your mouth, on your tits, or inside your cunt, I don’t care. It’s happening.”

The contents of my stomach lurched upward as I managed my reply, “Why?”

His initial response was without words, each answer turning my body to stone. Gentle at first, he brushed his thumb against my lips. The squeeze of my breast was harder, but it was the way he grabbed my core that registered as violation as well as pain. My heart thumped against my chest as his erection probed my stomach.

“Do you need to ask? You asked me to ‘take it out on you.’ Your wish is my command, darling. Over there, by the tennis courts… I’m going to take it out.”

His iron grip pulled me across the wet lawn. I pleaded, called out to Nox; I said no. I proclaimed and then begged. I reminded him of our childhood friendship while digging my heels into the grass. I silently pleaded with myself to wake.

Bryce’s voice was ice, freezing my will with the cold, hard reality. My pleas wouldn’t help me. They did the opposite, fueling his power and need for control. My childhood friend was a monster whose only concern was his own desire. He was a psychopath and his words were but the prelude to my future.

“Wrong,” he said. “You want it. Say you do.”

“Please, Bryce.”

“Close. Begging is acceptable. Now, tell me you want me to take you. No, tell me you want me to fuck you. Come on, darling. No, I know! Tell me that you want to fuck me and you’ll do it better than my whore.”



“No!” My shouts were no longer contained to my dreams. They echoed through the room, waking both Nox and me.

Nox pulled me close to his chest. The woodsy scent settled in my senses, replacing the aroma of the damp Savannah night air. With time, my breathing slowed as his steady heartbeat calmed my own. With both of us fully awake, he rolled me to my back. Hovering above me, he brushed his lips over mine. “I’m only going to ask you this once, but princess, I need you to be honest.”

Closing my eyes, I nodded. It hadn’t been our first awakening of the night. Nox wanted honesty. I’d give it, even if it meant he’d hate me.

“What’s your name?”

My eyes blinked at his strange question.

“Alexandria.”

He kissed my nose. “You’re my Charli and you always will be.”

His words washed through me, so simple and yet so poignant.

“Did he do more than kiss you?”