Page 105 of Reckless Seduction
The crack of flesh meeting flesh echoes through the room.
My head jerks to the side.
Bailey’s palm still hangs in the air between us, her chest heaving, blue eyes blazing with fury and grief. Before I can react, she pivots and slaps Seamus just as hard across the face.
“Fuck you,” she chokes out, voice trembling. “Fuck both of you.”
No one moves.
Even the women behind her fall silent.
She shoves at my chest with both hands, then Seamus’s, wildcat claws finally bared. There isn’t enough strength behind it to do damage, but there is enough pain in it to cut deep.
“You left me there,” she cries. “You let them have me. You let them hurt me.”
Every word lands like a bullet.
“You promised,” she sobs. “You promised you wouldn’t let them take me. You lied. You’re both liars.” Her voice cracks.
My throat tightens as I stare at the bruises mottling her skin, at the split in her lip, at the trembling fury barely holding her upright. There is nothing I can say that will undo any of it.
“You’re right,” I say quietly. “We failed you.”
Seamus scrubs a hand down his jaw where she struck him, eyes bright with something dangerously close to tears. “And I’ll hate myself for it until my dying day, wildcat.”
Her chin wobbles. The rage drains as quickly as it came, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. She sways where she stands, shoulders curling inward beneath the jacket.
“I wanted to hate you,” she whispers. “Every second I was in there, I wanted to hate you, but I couldn’t…”
I step closer slowly, giving her every chance to strike me again, to run, to scream. Instead, she just stands there shaking.
“I know,” I murmur. “You have every right to.”
Her crystalline gaze lifts to mine, clouded with tears that finally spill over.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, voice rougher than I intend.
Bailey shakes her head once, then winces at the motion. “Just some bruises,” she whispers. “I’m okay.”
The lie guts me.
“Come here,a stóre.”
I open my arms but do not touch her. I wait.
For one endless second, she does nothing. Then her face crumples, and she stumbles forward like her body can no longer carry the weight of what she has endured.
I catch her against my chest. She goes rigid at first, every muscle locked tight, but when Seamus steps in behind her and lays a careful hand on her back, she breaks.
A sob tears from her throat. Then another.
“We’re sorry, wildcat,” Seamus murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of her damp hair. “None of this was ever supposed to happen.”
I hold her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head as she cries between us.
“We have so much to talk about,” I whisper into her hair. “But not now.”
Now, we just hold her.
