Claimed by Shadows (The Shadowmen #2)

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“HURTS LIKE HELL” BY FLEURIE, TOMMEE PROFFITT

IRIS

A fter we get out of the bath, Rowan dries me off while Hunt and Roman watch, their gazes searing into me. I hate this feeling, that I’m lost in my own skin and don’t know how to find my way back to them.

“Things will look better in the morning, Princess. They always do,” Roman tells me, reaching out for my hand but pausing just before he grabs it. He waits, just like Rowan did, and my eyes sting with appreciation, even if I wish we could go back to how it was between us before.

“I hope so,” I murmur, taking his hand and relishing the warmth that encases my palm and travels up my arm. A heaviness settles over my limbs, my body suddenly so bone weary I sway on my feet from exhaustion.

“Let’s get you to bed, Peaches,” Hunter states, his deep voice both a comfort and a reminder of all that I’ve lost. I hope Roman is right, that with the rising of the sun, I’ll be able to reclaim my life before Sergi took me.

Roman leads me over to the bed, pulling back the covers and helping me into it.

“Do you want us to join you, or would you rather sleep alone?” he asks, his voice a little hesitant, and I fucking hate it.

“Stay, please,” I reply as I snuggle into the bed, the familiar scents calming me a little.

“Thank fuck,” he rasps, quickly shedding his shirt and trousers before climbing in beside me. “Can I hold you, Princess? Please?”

“Oh, R–Roman—” My voice breaks on a sob, tears flooding my vision as his strong arms pull me against his hot body. He curls around me, the bed dipping behind me as Rowan’s scent engulfs me, his warmth radiating down my back as his arms encircle me.

“It’ll be okay, love,” Rowan whispers in my ear, and the term of endearment just makes me cry harder as I cling to Roman, wishing I didn’t feel so fucking broken.

They hold me while I break, while I cry for the girl who several weeks ago knew nothing about how monstrous the world could be. Soon, my sobs subside and my closed lids feel so heavy I don’t even try to open them.

“H–Hunt?” I whisper, my heart thudding with the thought that he might not be here with us.

“I’m here, Peaches,” his gruff voice tells me, a large palm gliding down my hair.

“I need you here,” I say, knowing the words might not make sense but I’m too exhausted to explain. Luckily, he seems to understand because there’s some shuffling, then his body is underneath mine, his chest underneath my cheek. His heart pounding in my ear in a reassuring beat that soothes my fractured soul.

Hands reach out to touch me, the twins keeping our connection, and it’s enough to allow the darkness to swallow me, my body cocooned in the warmth of the men who love me despite my wounds.

The next couple of weeks pass by in a fog. It’s like I’m living underwater, experiencing everything through a film of dullness that I can’t seem to shift. I barely eat, Hunter making all sorts of dishes for me to try, but nothing can encourage my appetite. I often feel too nauseous to swallow more than a mouthful, and I catch each of their concerned glances as I push plate after plate away.

Despite the fact that my Shadows stay in my bed, my nights are full of nightmares, my body waiting for the nightly assault it had to undergo for weeks at Sergi’s hands. It’s like it doesn’t get the memo that we’re safe. I become so jumpy that I know the guys tiptoe around me, scared to make any sudden noises or move for fear of my trauma rearing its ugly head and turning me into a gibbering wreck, which has happened several times.

My skin is raw with the amount of times I’ve washed, yet I still feel dirty almost as soon as I’ve stepped from beneath the shower spray. I’ve made myself bleed more than once from scrubbing it so hard, and I broke down when Hunter took away my loofah. How am I meant to get clean without it?

I know it’s not normal, the need to clean myself so often and so viciously. The anxiety I feel on a daily basis, the nightmares and lethargy. I see the way the guys look at me, worry furrowing their brows, their touches hesitant because no one knows what will trigger one of the many panic attacks I’ve had since returning.

One night, we’re sitting in the living room, Rowan’s phone in my hands as the TV plays some show quietly in the background. I’ve been researching recently, having come to the conclusion that I can’t live like this. I won’t let Sergi steal my life away, and that means I need help. Outside help.

I’ve found a place out in the countryside, a beautiful facility that looks perfect, but I’m not sure how to broach the subject with the guys. How can I tell them that I need to go away to heal? That I need to be away from them when they’ve only just got me back?

The sound of Hunt’s phone vibrating next to me makes me jump out of my skin, my heart pounding in my ears as he pulls it from his pocket and up to his ear.

“Kai? What’s up?” Hunt’s deep voice goes some way to settle my nerves, but then he’s sitting up, cursing, and my chest tightens. “Shit, yeah we can look into it for you. Send over the details.” He runs his fingers through his hair, cursing again.

“What’s wrong? Who’s Kai?” I ask, a sinking feeling in my gut telling me this is serious.

“Kai Matthews,” Hunt replies, looking over at Roman and then Rowan, who are sitting across from us on the L-shaped sofa. “Lilly’s been taken and they think her uncle has her in Wiltshire. She’s pregnant too.”

“Fuck,” Roman hisses as my stomach swoops. I hate that there’s a small amount of relief mixed in with the horror, a part of me glad it’s nothing to do with Sergi. Hunter’s phone vibrates again with an incoming message and he glances down, his brows etched.

“The location of his estate,” he tells us. “They’ve asked if we can take a look, maybe try and get in somehow to see if she’s there.” His gaze flits to me and his jaw works. “I can send some of the guys to?—”

“No.” My voice is firm and louder than it’s been in the past couple of weeks. “You need to go. I won’t let Lilly suffer a moment longer if we can help.” A lump forms in my throat at the thought of what she might be going through, what might be happening to her. I may not know her, but she’s Willow’s bestie, and I can’t stand the idea of another woman being at the mercy of a man who has stolen her, just like Sergi did to me. I sit up straighter, grasping Hunter’s arm, which is warm and flexes under my touch. “Please, Hunt. It has to be you, you’re the best.”

He swallows, his gaze boring into mine. “I won’t leave you alone.”

“Rowan can stay,” I quickly state, my free hand clutching the phone as a plan forms in my mind and a sense of calm fills my body. For the first time since that awful night when Sergi took me from my Shadows, I feel in control. “Can’t you, Roo?”

“Sure,” he answers, and his eyes narrow slightly, making my pulse race. He’s suspicious, so I’ll have to tread carefully. “I’ll stay with Lamb and you two check it out, see what you can find.”

“Fine,” Hunt relents before turning back to me. “But you stay in the flat, okay? And we will be back tomorrow night.”

“Okay, Hunt.” My chest twinges at the lie I just told. If my plan works and I can convince Rowan to take me, I’ll be heading to Serene Haven first thing in the morning.