“Okay.”

I concede, not because I agree but because I want to end the conversation. He kisses my forehead and resumes his position next to me. The lights go out and he curls his arm around me once more. He’s wrong. I’m not more, and I’m not better.

I may have been once.

But I’m not anymore.

***

When I wake up, he’s not in bed. I hear a bit of commotion outside, figuring that’s what woke me up. It just sounds like a bunch of people talking, so I ignore it and head to the bathroom. I inspect the sling on my arm as I brush my teeth. The pain’s not so bad anymore. With the painkillers and Chrissy icing it for me every day, it feels a lot better. I still have some discomfort with my stitches, but that’s healing well, too, and the cuts on my legs have scabbed over and just itch like hell now. I take my pills then head back into the bedroom. I know either Aunt Nita or Ellen will be bringing me breakfast soon. As soon as I walk in the room, the noise outside hits me. My curiosity gets the best of me and I stand by the window to see what I can find out.

“What’s going on?” a man asks.

“Hunter’s offering a reward for information.”

“What kind of information?”

“I don’t know but for two million dollars, I’ll say whatever he wants me to.”

What the fuck? Two million dollars? I pull on a pair of his boxers and head outside to find Gage. He’s in the bar, talking to Dr. E and Razor. Dr. E is facing me so when he sees me, he does a chin lift in my direction to alert the others. They stop talking and turn to me. Gage furrows his brows and meets me before I can get to them.

“You okay?”

“I need to talk to you,” I tell him.

He leads me back to the bedroom, sits on the bed, and pulls me down on his lap.

“What’s up, babe?”

“You tell me. What’s this I’m hearing about a reward for information?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“I heard some men talking. They said you’re offering two million dollars. Is it true?”

“Raven, don’t worry about it.”

I get up and start pacing the room. “What do you mean ‘don’t worry about it’? Other than the fact that it’s a ridiculous amount, where are you going to get that kind of money?”

“I can afford it, trust me.”

I stop pacing and stare at him in disbelief. He can afford it? Exactly how much money does he have if he can afford to throw away two million dollars? No, doesn’t matter. I’m not letting him do this. He’s already planning ungodly things on my behalf; I can’t have him losing all his money, too.

“Call it off. Tell them it was a mistake. You can’t do this, Gage.”

“Of course I can. I am doing it.”

“Gage –”

He jumps to his feet, stopping me before I can say anything else.

“Look at me, Raven.”

I stare up at him begrudgingly. I know exactly how this is going to go. He’ll tell me what’s going to happen, ask me if I got it, and then end the conversation. I don’t even know why I try sometimes.

“All you need to think about is getting better. Let me worry about everything else. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it. I don’t like it and I’m strongly objecting, but I got it.”

“Good. Let’s find you some breakfast.”

Back in the bar, I see Laurelyn walking in, clutching tightly to Dani and her purse. I don’t blame her. Looking beyond her, I see the scores of people lining up outside. I don’t know where they came from but a million emotions come at me, hitting me like a freight train. The rape, Laurelyn, Gage planning to kill a man because of me, spending all that money. I’m so overwhelmed, I start to hyperventilate. I can’t deal.

“What’s wrong?” Gage and Laurelyn ask in unison. That’s when I notice she’s standing in front of me.

“You should leave,” I say.

“Do you want me to come back later?”

“No. You should go home.”

The hurt and disappointed expression is instantaneous. It’s for the best. I don’t know why I thought I could handle all this at once. I look down at Dani and confusion is written all over her face.

“I promise I’ll call whenever I can. I just...I can’t deal with everything right now. I need time. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”

I hurry back to Gage’s room, locking the door behind me. Leaning on the door, I slide down to the floor as the tears begin to stream down my face. How am I supposed to get through all this? No one can help me. It doesn’t matter what anyone says or does, it will never be enough.

I can’t get through this.

I won’t.

CHAPTER 7

***Raven***

Seclusion. It’s probably the only word to describe the state I’ve been in since...I don’t even know. I guess ‘reclusion’ would be a better word. I haven’t seen anyone but Gage and Dr. E since that day I told Laurelyn to go home. And seeing Dr. E was merely a necessity because he’s been checking on my injuries. The first time I saw him, he told me I hadn’t eaten in three days and he was putting me on an IV. Gage...even then, he was patient and understanding, calmly begging me to eat. I don’t know how he does it, because I haven’t even been speaking to him in complete sentences. I think the last thing I said to him was a mumbled ‘thanks’ when he sheepishly handed me a plastic bag containing three different brands of pads, tampons, and panty liners. I almost smiled at the thought of him buying them for me. Almost.

I retreated into myself, hiding away from everyone and everything, completely shutting down. At least my body is healing. All that’s left are a few scars and a nagging pain in my shoulder. Dr. E says I have to go through physical therapy and even then, it will be months before it’s back to normal. Both he and Gage have been begging me to talk to a therapist, but I can’t. I can’t talk to anyone.

It’s not like I’ve been sad or depressed...just...numb. There’s no feeling, no awareness or concept of time. I only know it’s morning when Gage drags himself out of bed. I’ve watched him daily and it’s always the same: he brings me breakfast, showers, and then tells me he has to check in with the guys or one of the businesses. He’s back in time for lunch and is with me for the rest of the day – making sure I eat and take my medication. Most of the time, he turns the TV on and I pretend to watch while he works on his laptop or his phone. Sometimes, he works out his frustrations on the punching bag.

Every now and again, one of the guys knocks on the door, they talk in hushed tones on the other side, and then he either comes back to bed or leaves for a few hours. On those occasions, I know he’s off doing bad things for me. He doesn’t tell me where he goes or what he does, but I know. I see it in his eyes when he kisses my forehead before he climbs into bed.

Right now, his punching bag is on the receiving end of a major ass-kicking. He’s been going at it for a while, longer than usual. His hair is wet and sticking to his head and face, sweat trickling down his body, making wet spots on his shorts. I sit up, pulling my knees under my chin, and watch him. Has he lost weight? Am I stressing him out? Or is all the work on the punching bag making him leaner? He looks good—amazing, in fact. And yet, I feel nothing. That magnetic pull he’s always had is missing. He’s still a sex god, but somehow he no longer has an effect on me. There are no butterflies, no thumping heart, no ragged breathing. Nothing. Just an endless void. I’m a dying star, trapped in a black hole of nothingness. And nothing can escape a black hole. He should get away from me or he’s just going to get pulled in by the gravity. Then we’ll both be trapped.

He glances my way and eases up, grabbing the bag with both hands to stop it from swinging. His breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Our eyes meet, but I drop my gaze. I can’t look into his eyes knowing I’m slowly destroying him.

“You okay?”

I nod.

“Need anything?”