I pound on the door. “Reed! Reed!”
Daniel curses and Hugh yanks me away, but they’re too late. The door bursts open and Reed appears. His blue eyes immediately become enraged when he spots the three of us.
I lurch toward him. Daniel, in his surprise, lets me go and I fall on the floor.
“What the fuck is going on?” Reed growls.
“Shit, man, she’s trashed,” Daniel says with a hasty laugh. “I had to bring her here so she wouldn’t embarrass herself.”
“No, no,” I protest, trying to sit up but it’s all a muddle. I can’t find the words to explain myself. I can only look up at Reed in despair. He’ll hate me now. He’ll really believe I’m a slut. All the fight drains out of me. I’m done.
More people arrive and five sets of big feet line up before my eyes. The number of people here to witness my humiliation grows. I drop my head to the tiled floor hoping that it opens up and swallows me whole.
“You have two options.” Reed starts speaking. His voice is strong and calm, as if he’s giving a morning address to the student body. “You can either apologize and tell the truth, and only one of us will beat your face in. Or you lie and we all take turns making your body into a science project. Choose your words carefully.”
Is he talking to me? I think he might be. I raise my head to protest that I did nothing wrong, but when I look up I see a wall of Royal bodies. All of the brothers are there. Every single one of them, including Gideon. Their arms are crossed and their faces are thunderous. But none of them are looking at me.
I peer over my shoulder where Daniel is, his hands at his sides and a syringe dangling between his fingers.
He clears his throat. “Reed, I didn’t do anything—”
“Guess you’ve made your choice.”
“A really stupid one, too,” I hear Easton mutter.
Dismissing Daniel from his gaze, Reed leans down and lifts me into his arms. He folds me against his chest, one arm holding my bottom, the other wrapped tightly around my shoulders. This guy has been my enemy, the source of so much emotional pain. But right now, I cling to him as if he holds the only comfort I will ever find in this world.
* * *
Inside the Range Rover, I begin to cry. “Reed, something is wrong with me.”
“I know, baby. It’s going to be okay.” He lays a cool hand on my leg and the sensation is mind-blowing.
“I need you to touch me.” I try to drag his hand upward.
He groans. His grip tightens on my leg, just for a second, but then he pulls away.
“No,” I protest. “That feels good.”
“Daniel shot you up with ecstasy, Ella. You’re in a drug-induced state of horniness and I’m not taking advantage of you.”
“But—” I argue, reaching for him.
“No,” he barks back. “Now, please. For the love of God, will you please be quiet and let me drive.”
I scuttle back, but the prickling sensation on my skin doesn’t stop. I rub my legs together to ease some of the ache and I find that helps a little. I’d rather have the touch be from Reed, but my own hands are providing relief and so I take it. I run my hands over my thighs, down my calves. My skin feels like it’s alive and I reach under Reed’s borrowed shirt to massage away the ache.
“Jesus, Ella, please. You’re killing me here.”
Embarrassed, I try to stop. “I’m sorry,” I apologize in a small voice. “I don’t know what’s happening.”
“Let’s just get you home.” He sounds exhausted.
The rest of the car ride is agonizing. It takes all my mental energy to keep from touching myself.
Reed whips the car down the lane and then jumps out of the Rover before the engine dies down. He jerks open the door and I tumble out into his arms. We both moan—me in relief, and him in frustration.
Other car doors slam and the other brothers join us with Sawyer running ahead to get the door.
Gideon speaks up. “She’s going to have a long night. One of you needs to help her.”
“In what way,” Reed grinds out.
“You know.” Gideon’s voice is low.
“Fuck.”
“You want me to do it?” Easton asks.
I curl into Reed. His grip around me tightens. “No. No one but me.”
My head is foggy as he carries me up the stairs and deposits me on the bed. When he moves away, I reach for him in dismay. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” he promises. “I’m just getting a washcloth.”
I start crying again when he disappears into the bathroom. “I don’t know why I’m so weepy.”
“You’re drugged to hell. Molly. Coke. God knows what else he gave you.” Reed sounds disgusted.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“I’m not mad at you.” He presses the cold cloth against my forehead. “I’m mad at myself. I did this. Well, Easton and I. I brought this on you. I’m Reed the Destroyer.” He sounds sad. “Didn’t you know that?”
“I don’t like that name.”
He sits next to me, drawing the cloth around and around my face, down my neck and onto my shoulders. It feels heavenly. “Yeah, and what would you call me instead?”
I open my mouth and say, “Mine.”
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