Page 91 of Torment
The lightfrom the television flickers against the ceiling in uneven bursts, bright enough to bleed through my closed eyelids. My head pounds as I shift slightly on the couch, and the ache in my ribs reminds me why I’m here instead of in the bed.
I open my eyes slowly. The penthouse is quiet. Morning sunlight peeks through the blackout curtains, streaking across the ceiling, giving the room enough light to see, but not so much that I want to close my eyes again. For a few seconds, I stare at the ceiling trying to figure out what day it is.
Bits and pieces of the last two days come back. The lights in the courtyard. The pavement. The hospital. Andy. Karson’s arms around me at the rest stop while I sobbed into his shirt in relief.
My stomach knots.
Carefully, I push myself up a few inches against the couch cushions. The movement tugs at my ribs, and I curse under my breath.
“Son of a bitch.”
The TV flickers again, grabbing my attention. Turning my head to get a better look at the screen, my eyes widen when I see it’s the news.
A familiar face appears in the top right corner over the anchor's head. Jack Steele in a perfectly pressed suit, perfect hair. The same controlled smiles he’s worn ever since I’ve met him. The one he uses to help people feel comfortable around him.
The anchor stands outside of The Steele Group office building, and unlike any other time the news has done a story on Jack or Melissa, she doesn’t look the least bit impressed. The banner across the bottom of the screen reads:
BREAKING: FEDERAL PROBE FREEZES STEELE GROUP ACCOUNTS AMID ALLEGATIONS OF CHARITY MISCONDUCT
My heart stutters.
A noise from the kitchen pulls my attention from the coverage, and I look to see Karson standing at the kitchen island. He shakes a prescription bottle, dropping some pills into his palm. He puts the bottle down, grabs a cup of coffee, and heads my direction.
He sits down next to me and offers me the medication, which I take a little too quickly, and then the cup to wash it down.
Fuck, everything hurts.
Handing the cup back to him, I watch him for a moment, looking for some kind of reaction to the news that’s playing, but he gives nothing away–just takes a sip of the coffee as well, then leans back into the couch getting comfortable.
I study him a moment longer, then glance back at the TV.
“I can’t believe this,” I mutter.
Karson makes a low grunting noise, and I turn back to him.
“You did this.” It’s not a question.
“I did,” he says, the corner of his lips tipping in a sadistic smirk.
The Steele’s have been untouchable for as long as I can remember. Their influence and power goes back generations. I never thought I’d see their empire collapse in my lifetime, but here we are.
My heart swells in my chest.
“How?” I breathe.
Karson glances at me for a second before pulling himself to the edge of the couch and turning toward me. The movement makes my chest tighten, and my stomach immediately twists in knots. His warm hand wraps around mine in my lap, and he lets out a sigh.
“Last night after you had been asleep for a while, I had Parker come stay with you so I could go deal with Tristan–” he pauses. “Andy, whatever you want to call him.”
“Oh…kay,” I say slowly, but my pulse quickens.
Karson tips his head to the side, his pretty gray eyes watching me carefully.
“I asked him why he took you.”
I say nothing, waiting for him to tell me what he got out of that conversation.
“He said you were promised to him,” he says softly.
