Collateral Damage by Bianca Sommerland Read Free Book Online Page B

disgusting cruds of heat and lust and surrender.
    With one last grunt, Cyrus came. Then he patted my cheek and sneered at me.
    "I'll leave Vincent to clean you up and get you some new clothes, my nasty little cunt.
    You're practically oozing cum." He slipped out and took a kerchief from his pocket to clean himself. "But you're a good fuck, I'll give you that."
    He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him. Gone. But not really.
    His presence lingered, smeared all over and inside me, giving me the familiar urge to scrub away contaminated flesh. Until I bled and could pretend the scum could be washed off. Could pretend I wasn't ruined.
    "Nicole." Vince removed the Velcro straps and then gathered me in his arms, locking them around me when I cringed and tried to throw myself off the bed. "Stop it.
    Let's get you cleaned up."
    "Can't get clean." I went slack and covered my face with my hands. "Which makes me a prize, doesn't it. After the first time, what does it matter?"
    "We'll discuss that later. Hold on to me." He snatched a blanket off the bed, tucking it around me as he picked me up. Then he carried me from the room. Down the hall, up the stairs, bearing my weight as easily as an armful of text books. He shifted me to press my head against his chest as the screams in the hall got louder.
    As though they could bother me now.
    I wanted this to end. All of it. Maybe if I just let go, I would fade away. I already didn't feel quite there. This ruined body belonged to someone else. Someone else whom Vince gently set down so he could open a door. Someone else who followed him inside without a word.
    Soft lighting gave the bathroom a peaceful atmosphere. I perched on the edge of the bath and watched Vince turn the faucets, testing the water, adjusting until he was satisfied with the temperature. Then he went to the cupboard under the counter and picked out a few bottles. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and bubble bath.
    "I thought you'd enjoy a good, long soak," Vince said.
    "Sure."
    He frowned and helped me into the bath. "I'll get you some fresh clothes."
    "Sounds good."
    My body lowered until it was completely submerged. All sense of sight and sound deadened by a womb of hot, bubbly water. Lungs emptied. Tightened with the need for air. But air meant rising, and this body didn't have the strength.
    Vince hauled me up with a slosh and took hold of my chin. "I'd expected more from you."
    "More than what?" I asked in a lifeless tone. "I'm doing exactly what you asked."
    "I asked you not to play games."
    "I'm not."
    "So I'm supposed to believe you actually want to die? That you've just given up?"
    "Why shouldn't I?"
    "Because you're still worth something."
    Damn you. Why did he have to remind me? But, at the same time, I was grateful he had. Alrik needed me. Giving up would be selfish. And I wasn't about to follow in my father's footsteps.
    "There we go." Vince skimmed his knuckles down my cheek, giving me another one of those smiles that told me I'd done something good. "I truly admire how well you recover."
    "Why does it matter?" I caught myself leaning in to his touch and considered shifting away. Instead, I sighed and rubbed my face against his hand. It felt nice. I had a feeling I wouldn't get a lot of nice. Why deprive myself? "If I didn't recover I'd be easier to handle, no?"
    "No, you'd be useless. We won't keep a broken thing as a teacher for Alrik." He bent down and kissed me tenderly, his eyes searching mine as though to make sure I got it. He seemed satisfied that I did when he pulled away. "Think about that while I'm gone. Think of what we need to do to make sure you don't break."
    Alone, I soaked and slowly took in my surroundings. The bathroom was the kind you'd expect in a mansion, bigger than my cell. The whole thing was very Feng Shui, all natural colors, the walls and fixtures offsetting the granite tiles on the floor and around the round tub. Orchids in earthenware planters sat on the granite counter by