What Doesn't Destroy Us (The Devil's Dust #1)(62)

“Oh, yeah, she will sell well!” one of them says.

A dark, tanned hand reaches in and rubs my cheek; it's soft and silky and smells of cigars. I shake my head violently back and forth.

“No. No. Please, no!” I cry, trying to pry my hands from the bindings, only to have it cut deeper into my skin.

“I wanted to sample her out for you, but wanted your permission first, Poppy,” a familiar voice says, rough and husky. The silhouette leans in and I realize it's Ricky, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his cracked, dry lips. I thought he was dead; what’s he doing here?

“Yes, by all means go for it,” Poppy says. I still can’t see his face from the blinding light.

“I knew you wanted that slut!” a female voice sobs. The voice is familiar, but I can’t put a face to it.

Both guys throw their hands up in surrender and step back from the trunk. Why are they doing that? I can’t see from laying in the trunk, so I try to lift my head and see over the rim. A small silhouette appears in my line of view, but all I can focus on is the gun pointing at me.

“Die!” the voice yells. It's Cassie!

“Noooo!” I scream.

“Dani! Dani, wake the f*ck up!” I hear Shadow yelling at me, his hands shaking me by my shoulders.

I open my eyes, running from the dreadful terror behind closed lids. I’m soaked with sweat and my breathing is so spastic I feel I may stroke out at any moment. It was just a bad dream... just a dream, I chant silently to myself.

“Calm down and breathe,” Shadow coaxes me as he rubs my back to help soothe me.

“Damn, that must have been a hell of a dream,” Shadow whispers, his voice sexy and rough from sleep.

We lay there in the dark room in silence. I’m too afraid to go back to sleep. I can’t sleep. I need a shower. I need Ricky’s mouth off of me.

I throw my legs over the bed only to jerk them back up again. What if he’s under the bed? No, Shadow killed Ricky; he can’t hurt me anymore, right? I put my legs back over the edge of the bed, hesitant. What about Cassie though? My mind haunts me, making me pull my legs back up onto the bed.

“Where are you going?” Shadows asks, his voice full of sleep.

“I have to get a shower. I need to,” I say, sobbing. I feel so weak, so vulnerable.

“I’ll help you,” Shadow says, rising from the bed.

“No, I got it. I can do it myself,” I respond, more spiteful than intended. I can’t help but feel a little hurt that he doesn’t trust me, even after all the shit his blood put me through.

“No, you can’t do it by yourself. I’m helping, end of discussion!” His tone is harsh and demanding. I risk looking at Shadow, our gazes holding a new energy than when we fell asleep. The air seems angrier and more hostile than before. But why?

I lift off the bed and feel like I weigh a thousand pounds. My belly is yelling in hunger and my mouth is parched, but all I can think of is cleaning myself off with an iron sponge.

I hunch over and start making my way toward the bathroom. Once there, I look into the mirror as Shadow turns the shower on. I can’t contain the ungodly gasp that escapes from my mouth when I look at my reflection. I have dried, caked blood on my forehead; a split lip that is all purple and black with more dried blood; my throat has a ring of purple around it; and I haven’t even looked under my clothes yet.

Shadow grasps the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. He unhooks my bra letting the cups dangle from my chest; I slide the straps down my arms and let it fall to the floor. He unwraps my bruised ribs that Dr. Jessica wrapped tightly to help with the pain. Shadow turns me and fiercely sucks in a breath at the sight of my ribs. My sides are the darkest hue of purple I have ever seen; borderline black. Just trying to bend my head to look at them makes me cringe with pain; they look terrible.

Shadow grabs me by the hips gently, rubbing his thumbs across the tainted skin. “Fuck, Dani,” he whispers, his voice dripping with sympathy and concern.

“It actually looks worse than it is,” I admit.

Shadow looks at me with hooded eyes. His arctic blue digging deep into my emerald green and tugging on my soul. My panties instantly wet at the sight of him mourning my injuries.

“I know that look and the answer is simple; no.” The worry and concern are gone from his voice, replaced with cold restraint. His whiplash behavior has me confused as hell all over again.

I walk up to him and trail my nails down his clean cut abs, feeling his skin explode with goosebumps under my touch. My touch affects him.

“We can be gentle,” I sigh, trailing my hand to the waist of his jeans. Shadow growls deeply.

He grabs my wrist, stopping my touch and the vixen spell. He clamps his eyes shut for a moment before staring again, guns blazing.

“The feelings I had when you were gone, they were deep. I lost control. Someone took something of mine and they hurt what was mine. I’m way past pissed that you got on the back of another brother's bike; a brother that didn’t protect you. You should have never been on the back of his bike, especially without permission.” Shadow throws my hand back at me. I gasp with shock; how was I supposed to know getting on the back of that bike was breaking a so-called law? I open my mouth to yell at him, but am stopped short when he leans in and nips my earlobe painfully. It borders on pleasurable. Flashes of him spanking me and pulling my hair fly through my closed eyes, reminding me that the dark is not such a bad place when thoughts of Shadow consume it.