Saving Hailey: Chapter 18

“Sleep well?” Broadway smirks over the rim of his coffee cup as I descend the stairs shortly after six in the morning.

Whipping my neck left and right, I gouge my fingers into the knotted muscles at the nape, working out the tension the hot shower didn’t ease.

“Could’ve been better,” I admit, snatching a cup of coffee from the counter. “Anything to report?”

He shakes his head, pushing another cup under the machine’s nozzle for Koby or Ryder, whoever is in the control room.

“Too much. We poked the hornets’ nest last night. Rhett called Dante, demanding to know where we’ve gone to ground. Blaze is counting bodies, but you know he’ll be coming after us, too. And Vaughn’s been pestering Jeremy all night for updates.”

Both Vaughn and Rhett have been blowing up my phone, but they’ll have to wait for updates. I’m still reeling from the raid, and there’s more Hailey and I need to work through.

Broadway sets another cup on the counter. His head whips up, eyes on my shoulder like he just remembered I was shot and wants to check I didn’t tear my stitches overnight.

“I’m fine,” I say.

“Should I get a coffee ready for Hailey? Is she up yet?”

“I don’t think so. She’ll probably sleep most of the day. I doubt she slept much at Noretto’s.”

The distinct click of opening doors grabs our attention as Ryder emerges from the control room, stalking across the living room into the open plan kitchen, eyes on the prize. It’s not until he has a cup in hand, inhaling the coffee’s bitter aroma, that he acknowledges us with a simple nod.

“Someone should go shopping,” he mumbles, opening the fridge. “All we’ve got here are gas-station sandwiches.”

“No way I’m eating another one of those.” Broadway pulls a disgusted face, marching toward the door.

“Don’t take the Range Rover,” I tell him. “There’s a collection of American muscle and bikes in the garage. Take your pick and use the back roads.”

“What should I get for Hailey? What does she eat?”

“BLTs are her favorite. She likes waffles, French toast, bacon, and apples. Take Ryder with you and stock up. I have a feeling we’ll be here a while.”

They both nod, grinning like kids as they turn their backs on me, heading for the garage. Left alone, I enter the control room. A Mustang and a Kawasaki show up on the driveway camera feed a minute later. We’ve been at the safe house barely twelve hours, but Broadway’s taking no chances, hence the two-vehicle setup. They make a U-turn around the Range Rover, sneaking out the back way down a dusty track.

The cameras upstairs are off as per my instruction. Not for long. I check every feed, switching them on and off until I find Hailey’s bedroom.

Every tense muscle in my body unwinds when her sleeping form appears on the screen. A veil of blonde hair is scattered across one pillow, her face nuzzled into another, nothing south of her chin visible. She’s curled into a ball under the comforter, every breath steady, eyes closed.

God, she’s gorgeous. My kind of perfect. Including the scars she’s finally learned to love. There’s not a thing I’d change about this girl. Not one thing I don’t find alluring. The cupid bow of her upper lip, her button nose, long eyelashes… even the small frown crinkling her forehead.

Perfect.

While watching her sleep, I call Dante, and—reluctantly—Vaughn, letting him know his daughter’s safe.

It takes an hour before she wakes, and five minutes later, she leaves her sheets a tangled mess in the middle of the bed. With two coffees, I head upstairs, entering her bedroom just as she exits the en suite. She’s still wearing the spaghetti-strapped night dress, my hoodie hanging over the back of the desk chair, her bruises on display.

“How did you sleep?” I ask, setting the cups down.

“I would’ve slept better with you.”

“Don’t test me, Hailey. There’s nothing I want more, but you know why I can’t. Broadway and Ryder won’t be back with breakfast for a while, so how about you tell me about the bruises?”

“Will you tell your men about it?”

“Not unless you say it’s okay.”

She bites her cheek, giving me a wide berth as she sits on the bed. I wait, but her words don’t come, so I gently push.

“Who did that to you?”

“They all did… Well, not Blaze. He wasn’t home.” She scoots out of the dip my weight’s leaving in the mattress. “There’s a ballroom with an enormous rug in that mansion. Chairs and sofas line the walls… and a table with leather belts, long whips, riding crops, carpet beaters…”

“Whips?” I echo, the images filling my mind wake the merciless beast inside me. “That’s what they did?”

“They had a delivery… thirty girls about my age. Some younger. From what I understood, they’ll be sold—were sold last night at an auction.”

I nod, well versed in Blaze’s business activities.

“They seemed okay until Jax said something in Russian,” she continues, absentmindedly accordioning the comforter. “Then the girls started crying and the men… the men dragged them into the ballroom. Darius said they do it with every batch of new girls.”

A single tear slides down her cheek, but she swats it away, inhaling sharply. I’m coiled so tight my back hurts. Her words aren’t the only thing driving me wild. It’s the fact she’s had to live through this, and that, even though she’s here, right next to me, I can’t pull her into my arms and feel her relax under my touch.

“He said they break them in before they’re sold. The men all stand around the carpet…” Another pause to calm her breaking voice. “They lift one end, shove a girl or two underneath, and make them crawl.”

Fuck. I think I know where she’s going with this. The image she painted describing the room is enough to fill in the blanks. I picture Hailey under the rug. I picture those sadistic fuckers raining whips and carpet beaters down on her.

It fits. The long purple bruises down her back…

Bile scratches my throat when my imagination whirls out of control, showing me her fear, her tears, her beautiful face contorted in pain. My hands ball into tight fists, my teeth clenched so hard they’re not far off shattering.

“They crawl until they get to the edge, and then—” Hailey continues quietly, lifting both hands to swat her tears away. “As soon as their head peeks from under the rug, whoever’s closest drags the girl out and he… and he…” She shuts her eyes tight, like she’s blocking unwanted memories. “He rapes her.”

My heart leaps out of my chest. The bruises on her back prove she was under that rug. That she went through the same ordeal the girl she describes did.

I grab her hand, to gently maneuver her onto my lap and mold her trembling body into mine, but she shakes me off, scooting away.

Fuck that hurts.

Everything hurts… what she went through, that she’s not letting me close, that she doesn’t trust me to comfort her.

“I’m so fucking sorry, Hailey…” I croak, frustration and rage layering my tone in equal measure. “You’re okay now. It’s over. I won’t let them hurt you.”

She sniffles, nodding along. I reach for her again, on instinct, and watch her flinch away, unknowingly stabbing me with a twelve-inch blade.

“They… they didn’t rape me. Blaze turned up while I was still under the rug and took me away.” Her voice softens when she mentions that motherfucker and my jaw clamps, jealousy simmering beneath my rage. It’s a separate being inside me but my overpowering relief wins the spotlight.

Sleazy fucker or not, Blaze didn’t let his men touch my girl.

I can’t begin to imagine the hell Hailey lived through under that rug or the scars it’ll leave on her psyche, but it would’ve been ten times worse had they raped her.

“Did Blaze touch you?” I ask, curling my finger under her chin so she’ll look at me. “I need to know if anyone did.” So I can plan their slow, most painful deaths.

“One of his men…” she says, eyes darting away, shame heating her cheeks. “I refused to get in the shower, so he—he dragged me in there to scrub me down.”

“Do you know his name?”

She bobs her head, meeting my gaze when I gently turn her back to face me. “He’s dead now. Blaze killed him for forcing me under the rug.”

That’s one sin off the long list attached to Blaze’s name. He took what I most care about from me. Used extreme measures to ensure Matthews would bring her straight to his house. The list goes on, but protecting Hailey while she was under his roof should earn him a more merciful death, right?

Wrong.

Hailey’s fondness for the fucker tips the scales the other way. He tricked her into trusting him and he’ll suffer.

Fueled by the need to show her I’m the one she should trust, the one she should let close, I lean out, kissing the side of her. “I won’t let anyone touch you. I promise. As long as you’re with me, you’re safe.”

“They should all be dead,” she says, unmoving.

“Most of them are.”

We killed at least thirty men last night. Not enough, but it’s a start. Now I know how they treat the women who make Blaze his fortune, willingly selling themselves into sex slavery for American passports, I have a brand-new resolution for the near future: take Noretto down.

Expecting her to move away again, I grab her arm, pulling her into me. But she comes willingly. In seconds, my back hits the headboard and Hailey nuzzles her face in the crook of my neck, eyes closed. She’s not crying anymore. In fact, she’s so still and quiet for so long that I think she’s fallen asleep.

I run a hand down her back, cradling her close, the scent of her hair and skin like a potent sedative. I’ve not been this calm since our Lakeside mornings when she cuddled into me, asking for just five more minutes.

Bad drug.

Perfect high.

I love having her close. I love feeling her muscles relax while my fingers toy with her hair. I love her delicate body against mine.

And I hate that she’s trying to inch away.

“Not yet,” I say, adjusting my hold. “I know you don’t trust me, but just for a little longer, turn the thinking off and let me hold you.”

She stares into my eyes, two creases lining her forehead. I have no idea what she sees, but whatever it is, it makes her lean back into me for another long cuddle session.

Broadway and Ryder came back half an hour ago judging by the roar of the bike shaking the house as it rolled into the garage. They’re cooking downstairs and the smells are slowly breaching the bedroom.

“Are you hungry?” I whisper, grazing my lips along her hair. “You should eat something.”

She doesn’t reply, but shifts a little, wrapping her arms tighter around my neck and… her lips part against my skin, stamping a tender kiss below the ear. Then another, and one more, each sending a fit of uncontrollable shudders down my spine. She sighs, lifting her head, and those soft lips find mine.

Her fingers walk a path into my hair as she parts her mouth, running her tongue along my lower lip. There’s not an inch of my body that doesn’t want to let her deepen the kiss, but what she said earlier cuts through the lustful haze.

I break away. “What are you doing?”

“I missed you,” she whispers, leaning into me again, eyes heavy with desire. “You said you missed me too.”

I move her to the side before she kisses me again, then get up, hands balling into fists. “You said you don’t trust me, Hailey. You need time. You’re confused, vulnerable, and not thinking clearly.”

Her eyes widen, shining desire replaced by hurt. “Was…” She pauses as if needing a moment to digest the rejection. “Everything that happened between us… was any of it real or was it just part of the game?”

I crouch before her, both hands caressing the soft skin of her legs. “Everything was real.”

Her white teeth sink into her bottom lip. She asked and got an answer, but instead of relief, all I see is resignation on her pretty face. She tries to mask it, but I know her so well she can’t hide anything from me.

I spent weeks learning her facial expressions. Every smile and every frown. I know her better than she does herself.

“Then why are you pushing me away?” she whispers.

“Because you don’t believe me.” My hands cup her thighs. “You don’t trust me. You have every right not to, but I promise, everything between us was real. Is real. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand. You just need time to understand that.”

She looks to her hands, toying with her fingers. “I don’t have time.”

“What do you mean?”

She inhales sharply, straightening her spine and lifting her chin to artificially inflate her confidence. She’s done it a thousand times before and it never ceases to amaze me how much fight she has in her despite the shitty cards she’s been dealt.

“I’m a big girl. I know how this ends. What I don’t know is when.”

My heart stutters in my chest.

I fucking broke this girl with my lies.

Fixing her, fixing the mess I’ve made while trying to protect her, won’t be easy. She rebuilt herself from the ground up when she forgot Alex. Not even getting those painful memories of him back pushed her off course, but my betrayal hit her hard. I think it mingles with Alex’s betrayal, the two now interchangeable, fueling each other.

And all I have are words and promises. They’re not enough to restore her trust. She needs to see how much I care. That among the plethora of mistakes I’ve made, she’s been my priority and focus since the moment I first kissed her.

Maybe sooner.

I lean out further, pressing my lips to her forehead. “It never ends, Hailey. We never end. I’ll show you. I don’t know how, but I will, and when you see it, you’re mine.”