“Please. Can I have a coffee as well?”
He nods. Planting a soft kiss on my forehead, he strides from the room in his confident manner. I lean back on the headboard, feeling my eyes flutter closed, and I shuffle into the crook of Bennett’s arm. Exhaustion overtakes me, and sleep drags me under.
* * *
“Ella?” A warm hand on my shoulder pulls me from a dreamless sleep. “Baby, do you want to eat now?” Carter is dressed in only a pair of blue sweatpants and the way his T-shirt molds to his chiseled torso teases me and I can’t stop licking my lips. “Oi, eyes up here. I’m not a piece of meat.” His teasing tone is light and relaxed, and I have to smile.
“Not my fault you’re half naked,” I tell him indignantly. Feeling myself blush, I push up to sit against the headboard and grab the mug.
“Princess, behave. You’re in pain and I want you to rest, and we need to talk.”
Taking a sip of the warm black liquid, I savor the heat that seems to seep into my bones. I was naked for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever be warm again. But now, being here with Carter I am. He’s always made me feel safe.
A large figure looms in the doorway. Bennett’s also dressed in a pair of sweats. Both men look like they’ve been molded, sculpted by a master artist. The only difference is Bennett’s ink that covers his shoulder, pec, and part of his ribs.
“I am behaved,” I tell Carter, but my eyes are glued to Bennett as he enters and settles on the bed. “I’m innocently drinking my amazing coffee that one of my amazing boyfriends brought for me.” Glancing at him, I find his lips tugging into a sweet smile.
“Boyfriend? Mmm… I don’t think I’ve been called that before, but I’ll take it.” His grin is priceless, and I hope I get to see it all the time. He places the tray of food on my lap. There’s French toast, orange juice, and honey. “I want you to eat okay, Princess?”
I nod, already reaching for the honey and drizzling it over the thick slice of toast.
His groan doesn’t go unnoticed and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from giggling. It was only hours ago that I didn’t think I’d make it through the night, or day, but now I’m as safe as I’ve ever been.
He straightens and walks over to the window, leaving me with his best friend, who’s taken to feeding me the delicious food. Bennett’s gaze is locked on my lips and he leans in to lick away the sticky syrup.
“Is something wrong, Carter?” I question, noticing Carter’s rigid stance.
He shakes his head and turns to me. I realize he’s not mentioned what happened to Charles. I wish he’d just tell me, but I don’t want to force it. I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the outcome of that monster’s life. However, I don’t think he’s alive anymore. As long as he’s dead I don’t care how or who did it.
“No, sweetheart. Nothing at all,” Bennett responds for Carter.
I nod while I devour my breakfast but keep my eyes on both men. Once I’ve finished everything on the tray much to Carter and Bennett’s satisfaction, I whisper a quiet thank you.
“It’s a pleasure, Ella. Anything for you, sweet Princess.” Carter takes the tray and disappears down the hallway, and I have to glance at Bennett to ask.
“Is everything okay?”
“We do need to talk to you, but Cart thought it would be easier for me to do it. He’s nervous.”
“Why?” Now I’m utterly confused. I thought we were settled, but something is niggling at both men, which has me curious.
“He’s… He and I are…” Bennett’s smile is bright, crinkling the corners of his eyes, making him look so much younger than his thirty-six years. “We’ve been together a few times in the past, and the women we’ve been with have always enjoyed it. Carter and I want you to know if you’re not comfortable—”
“Nothing would turn me on more than to see my two alpha males together. The thought of you both kissing and touching, and…” I trail off. My cheeks heating is the only answer he needs.
“That’s what I thought.” He winks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, and I lean into his hold, needing the affection.
Even though sex has hung heavy in the air around us, I’m not ready. And I know both men will wait forever for me.
* * *
The psychologist stares at me for a moment. Her glasses are perched on her nose. Her big blue eyes peek over the top of the rims.
“And you haven’t been intimate since?”
I’ve just informed her about what happened. About my childhood and what happened when he took me.
“No, I’ve…” My words taper off. Silence hangs heavy as emotion chokes me. “It’s been a while since I’ve even thought about it.”
I feel the tears. They burn the same way the wax had heated my skin to an unbearable level. Strangely, pleasure and pain can come from one object, and when Charles held the candle, he instilled pain so profound, I can’t even bear to be near a lit flame.
“That’s only normal, Ella. There’s nothing wrong with needing space and time. Some people take years, some months. It depends on your support system and your inner strength.”
My eyes meet hers. She seems so sincere with the way she speaks. It’s only my fifth session, but I feel as if I can confide in her.
“Last time you were here you said you’d like to speak to your mother. Perhaps we should do that?” she questions.
I nod slowly, still unsure if I want to hear her voice, her explanations for allowing me to live through the nightmares.
“I can call her right now. We don’t have to, but…” Her voice is gentle, coaxing me to say yes. “It might ease the heartache.”
I nod once more in agreement.
She picks up her phone, tapping at the keys. It’s on speaker, loud, jarring. My senses are on overload when I hear her familiar voice.
“Hello,” my mother answers.
“Mrs. Carmel,” Dr. Hastings says. “I’m a doctor currently treating your daughter, Ella,” she offers.
A gasp from the other end of the line tells me she wasn’t expecting that.
“EllBell,” the voice I’ve missed for so long utters as pain laces the name she gave me as a child. “Are you there?”
“Mom,” finding my voice, I utter the word I haven’t said in years, a long, long time. The emotion choking me is a lump in my throat that’s slowly stealing my breath.
“Baby, where are you? Please tell me he didn’t find you?” she asks in a ragged voice.
Anger licks its way through me, as if a match has been struck and flames are now dancing in my veins. All these years she knew. There’s no other explanation.
“Did you…?” I swallow back the fury. “Did you know what he did to me?” My question hangs in the air, above my head like a weighted balloon. Depending on her answer, I realize I could lose my mother forever. “Answer me!”
“Yes, I… I’m so sorry, baby,” she tells me, but I no longer hear her.