Released (Devil's Blaze MC #3)(55)

“What did you do?”

“Matthew had left my chains off that morning. I don’t know if it was by accident or if he thought he left me too weak to be able to do anything. Grandfather had left his gun lying on the table when he decided to choke Katie. I crawled to it and emptied the chamber into him…”

I want to concentrate on what she’s telling me, but all thought stops when she says that one word that leaves my blood cold.

“Chains?” I roar.

Beth pales. I know I should rein it in and get a handle on it. I’m just not able.

“What the f*ck did they do to you Beth?”





Why didn’t I think while I was talking? I start to pull away from him. I need distance from him. I need to… Oh, God. His face is a mixture of fury and misery and I know I’m the cause of it. I try again to pull off of his lap. His hands dig into my hips, refusing to let me get away.

“Tell me, querida.”

“Skull, it’s not important now,” I tell him, trying to calm him. Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because his face is almost red with fury.

“It is! You’re important! I need to know what they did to you!”

“Why?” I cry, wanting this entire conversation to just disappear. “Katie and I got away, we survived, and that’s all that is important! I’m here with you now. We have our daughter and a second chance!”

“Because I have to know, Beth. It’s something I need to be able to share with you. I need you to give it to me to carry so you can be free of it,” he tells me, and I know he’s making an effort to be calm.

“I am free. It’s over.”

“You’re hiding your body from me,” he states, and he is much calmer now, but that’s bad news for me because he is methodical.

“Skull…”

“Torch mentioned torture, but f*ck me, I glossed over it in my head. Even knowing what kind of monsters I had been dealing with, I thought since they viewed you as family, you’d be mostly safe, especially after Torch promised me they didn’t rape you…”

“They didn’t rape me,” I whisper, seeing the question on his face.

“Then tell me why you hide your body from me Beth. Trust me this time, mi cielo.”

His words threaten to undo me almost as much as the pleading look on his face. I take a breath because I know this is going to take every ounce of courage that I have. This may destroy me.

“Let me up,” I whisper, hating that I have tears in my eyes, yet unable to stop them.

He lets me go and I slide from his lap and slowly pull myself up. I stand in front of the bed, facing him. My legs are shaking and it’s all I can do to remain standing. I bite the inside of my cheek and use that to concentrate on the pain, anything but what I’m about to do.

“Skull…”

“Créeme,” he tells me. Trust me…

With shaking hands I gather the ends of the long-sleeved shirt he left on me. I fist them in my hands, hating this, hating everything about this…

“Créeme,” Skull urges again.

I close my eyes and pull the shirt over my head in one quick movement, and even when I hear Skull’s curse, even when the cold air hits me, I keep my eyes closed. I squeeze them closed so tight they may never open again.





Bile rises in my throat as I see the horrible marks that scar her delicate skin. They move up her stomach and over her chest and from her elbows down. They’re crude and some are much worse than others. The worse ones are on her stomach. I figure the majority of that is because she was pregnant at the time. I tap down my anger, wishing I had someone in my grasp to take out my anger on, to make them feel the pain that my woman obviously endured. I push that away for now, though. Now’s not the time for anger. I will do that when Beth isn’t around to see it. Now, I just need to concentrate on Beth and making her feel good—reassuring her.

I drop to my knees quietly in front of her. Her eyes are still tightly squeezed shut. I want to scream at the injustice of everything she’s gone through—of everything we’ve gone through. Instead, I put my hands on her hips, squeezing her reassuringly.

She jumps in surprise, her hands coming to cover mine.

“Mi pobre tesoro,” I whisper… my poor treasure. A better man would have protected her more. She slowly opens her eyes and I see the dread there. Does she expect to see revulsion? There can be none. This is my woman.

I don’t give a f*ck about the scars.

“Skull…” she whispers pleadingly. “I can have surgery. The worst of them could be gone… I…”

I pull her down to the floor with me, and before she can say anything else, I stop her with a kiss. It’s a pressing of lips, firm and hard, a reassuring touch. A vow to her. It’s salty from her tears and the memory of it bores into my soul. Honestly, they’re not all her tears. They freely roll down my own face as I imagine the hell that she has lived through. Her little hand comes out and tries to dry them from my face, shaking as she does so.

“Is this why you were afraid to come home to me, mi cielo?” I ask her, my voice hoarse with emotion.

“Skull…”

“Tell me, Beth. Let it out and we’ll put it behind us. It will be gone.”