Page 8 of Fear Me Not

He lied to me. He used me.

I’d convinced myself he’d cared about me. That somehow my being his ex-best friend’s daughter meant I was someone special in his eyes. But no, I was nothing but a warm body and three holes for him and his fucked-up sons to use when winter set in.

His large palm cups the back of my head. If I didn’t know otherwise, I’d think it was with tenderness.

“Can you sit up a little, sweet girl? Try to drink some of this?”

I flutter my eyes open.

Blake is crouched at the side of the couch, a warm mug of something—milk, I think from the smell—in his other hand. The smell of it takes me back to the night I’d thought I was being attacked in the entrance hall, when I’d broken the mug. Had it been a trapped bird or a bat that night? Or had it been Dov all along? If it had been Dov, then Blake would have known that, and once more he’d lied to me, messing with my head.

Levi is perched on the arm of the couch, his brow furrowed. There’s concern in his beautiful blue eyes, and it’s reflected in Blake’s, too. I want to believe it means something, but how can I? It’s all an act.

I can’t trust him.

I’m too cold and in too much pain to argue with him. I allow him to help me half sit, and then he places the mug at my lips and I take a sip. My hands are shaking, so he has to hold the cup for me. I feel like a child again.

The few sips of milk warm me through, but it also makes me sleepy again. I feel the darkness dragging me back down and my eyes slip shut. I fight to keep them open, but I manage to, even though the room feels strange and distant around me, like I’m no longer connected to the real world.

With a start, I think I see someone—a shape in white lurking over Levi’s shoulder. It’s a woman, her cheeks hollowed and her eyes dark shadows. Then I blink again, and she’s gone. My half-frozen brain had conjured her out of nothing.

The only things I need to be afraid of in this place are the very real men.

I wonder where Dov is, but then it’s not unusual for him to make himself scarce. He brought me back to Windridge Hall, though, I’m sure of it. My memories are fractured pieces of glass, but Dov is in them.

Blake helps me drink some more, the milk sweet and creamy on my tongue. Gradually, my shivering subsides. A fire crackles and spits in the grate. It helps to warm me.

Maybe I should apologize to Blake about his truck, but there’s no way I’m saying sorry to him for anything. He put me in this situation. He’s the reason I’m here. I could have died, and it would have been all his fault.

I try to picture my life if he hadn’t shown up at my father’s funeral. What would have happened to me? What would I be doing now? Tobias would still be alive, but I struggle to feel any empathy for that son of a bitch. He only wanted me around for one thing, and even when I’d told him no, he’d still tried to take it. He’d assaulted me, even if I hadn’t wanted to admit what happened, convincing me it hadn’t been the same because we’d had a relationship.

I’d managed to push him off, but what if, one day, he’d met a girl who hadn’t been able to fight back?

What would I have done if Blake hadn’t turned up that day? I wouldn’t have been able to stay with Tobias for long—I wouldn’t have wanted to, and he didn’t want me there either—and it wasn’t as though I had many friends. My funds had been dwindling, and it wasn’t easy for me to get work. People would tell me to do something like waitressing, but when I’m unable to read the menu or write down someone’s order, it’s not so easy. Even getting through the interview process and having to fill in forms with bank details to get paid is nearly impossible. Just the thought of having to go through that sends me hot with embarrassment.

Or maybe that’s the warm milk and the fire.

The hot drink is warming me from the inside, and the pins and needles have faded to a tingle. I’m impossibly tired. My limbs feel so heavy, I can barely move them. My head hurts, but I’m not sure if that’s from where I hit it in the crash, or if it’s from the hypothermia or even the stress.

What am I going to do?

I’m stuck inside this hotel for the next few months with these three men.

I think of how Tobias was killed for touching me when I’d told him to stop. What would happen if I told these three men that my body is out of bounds? Would they respect my wishes? Or would they take what they want? What they need. I honestly don’t know. Dov has been drugging me and then touching me in my sleep. Levi admitted he’d been masturbating over me, and when we’d fucked, it had felt like we’d been fighting. He’d wanted me to resist him. Blake… well, Blake is a different story. I believe he’d respect my wishes, and he’d also work on his sons to do the same. Or at least that’s what I would have believed before I found out the reason he actually brought me here. Did I ever have any choice?

The worst part is that I still want him. Maybe I want all of them?

But I want the Blake I thought existed before I’d learned the truth. Levi is no surprise. Dov, I feel like I don’t yet know.

I remember him carrying me, his arms strong, the solidness of his body comforting. He saved my life. I don’t know how he got through the snow, but he did. That doesn’t mean I owe him my body, though.

I realize I’m naked underneath this blanket. They must have undressed me when I was barely conscious. My clothes were most likely wet and cold, and I’m sure they were doing it to help me rather than violate me, but I still feel vulnerable and exposed. Did they look at me when I was naked? Did they touch me?

“Where are my clothes?” I manage to croak. My words sound a little slurred, like I’m barely remembering how to speak.

Blake strokes my hair, and I don’t have the energy to jerk my head away from his touch.

“They got wet.” His eyebrows knit together. “Shit, we should have gotten you some more from your room. Sorry. I didn’t think.”