Claimed by Shadows (The Shadowmen #2)

Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“WE’LL BE FINE” BY LUZ

IRIS

I ’d be lying if I said that last night was the best night’s sleep I’d had in a while. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t the worst, but I spent more time tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position than I did sleeping. And when I slept, the usual nightmares plagued me, leaving my body on high alert and waiting for Sergi to walk in at any moment.

At around six in the morning, I give up, pulling myself out of the comfy bed with a groan and head to the bathroom with gritty eyes. After a quick shower, which was deliciously warm and full of my preferred products thanks to Rowan helping me pack, I throw on some soft cotton leggings and an oversized T-shirt that, by the smell, is Roman’s. I take a second to inhale him in, wrapping my arms around myself in a hug that I wish he could give me.

Tears sting my eyes, a wave of loneliness rushing over me and threatening to bring me to my knees for a moment.

“This is for the best, Iris, you know that, so don’t be a baby,” I scold myself, huffing a laugh at the words. I know I should be kinder to myself, but right now, I need a little push to start my first day.

Taking another deep inhale, I open my door, jumping, my hand flying to my chest when I see a tall man covered in tattoos waiting outside.

“Morning, Mrs Anderson,” he greets in a low, gravelly voice that I barely hear over the pounding of my heart. It takes a couple of panted breaths, but then my eyebrows scrunch as recognition floods through me.

“Did we meet in the Shadows gym? Rufus, isn’t it?” I ask, my voice only slightly breathless from the scare he just gave me. His lips spread into a grin that makes his imposing demeanour fade a little, not completely, but enough that my heart slows down from possible heart attack levels.

“Yes, ma’am, and yeah, we met there. Hunter chose me to be one of your guards, so I’ll be here all day, swapping out with Joe later on,” he tells me as I step into the hallway and close my door behind me.

“No disrespect,” I say, turning to face him after nibbling my lip. “But couldn’t your presence be triggering for some of the other patients?”

His own brows dip, his blue eyes filling with sorrow. “They gave us these scrubs to wear so that everyone thinks we’re just orderlies,” he tells me, and I blink as I register for the first time that he’s wearing baby pink scrubs. “And they introduced us yesterday to the other guests, but if it becomes an issue, we’ll think of something. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable.” My poor abused heart twinges at the worry lacing his tone, the way his eyebrows are still drawn together.

“The colour suits you, Rufus,” I tease, a smile tugging up my lips, his own lifting and the sadness leaving his eyes.

“I think so too. Joe isn’t convinced though,” he replies gravely, mischief in his eyes, and I find my shoulders relaxing a little at the simple conversation as we both huff a small laugh. “Are you going to breakfast?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Hunter didn’t mention anything about making sure I ate and drank, did he?”

A blush steals across his cheeks and I know that I’ve got it right. Bloody overprotective Daddy .

“He might have once or twice,” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his neck with his large palm, and I chuckle.

“Then I guess we’re going to breakfast, Rufus,” I reply and turn in that direction. We navigate through the corridors and down the stairs to the dining hall I was shown yesterday, and the opulent decor astounds me once again.

I grew up around wealth. Our mansion in Chelsea was full of expensive artwork and objects, but Serene Haven could give us a run for our money in that department any day. The fabric-covered walls are lined with beautiful landscape paintings in gilt frames and the thick Persian carpet under our feet is a stunning pattern you could very well get lost in. There are large floor-to-ceiling windows everywhere, flooding the place with light and leaving a warmth in my solar plexus as we move through the space.

The dining hall opens from 5am until 10pm, with main meals made to order and healthy snacks available twenty-four seven. Julia told me they understand that sometimes the patients—or guests as she likes to refer to us as—need to have a different routine to what would be considered typical eating hours, so they try to be as flexible as possible.

As we enter the room, it’s set up the same as yesterday, with lots of small round tables covered in gleaming white tablecloths and glass vases of fresh flowers on each one. There is an island in the middle that is piled high with many breakfast foods; cereal, fruit, pastries, and fresh breads, as well as several jugs of different coloured juice. Along the back wall is clearly the hot food station, with hot plates covered in everything you might want, from eggs and bacon to waffles and pancakes. There’s also a fancy-looking coffee machine with huge mugs stacked beside it. Julia told me breakfast was a buffet kind of affair, with lunch and dinner made to order from a daily menu.

I’m not the only one here so early. There’s a girl who can’t be more than sixteen sitting at a table, a steaming mug on the table in front of her that she stares into with such a lost look my stomach clenches at the visible pain on her drawn face. There’s also a guy, maybe around my age, sat at a different table, demolishing an enormous plate of pancakes. He looks up as Rufus and I enter, his gaze going to Rufus as he swallows hard.

“I’ll be over here if you need anything, Mrs Anderson,” he tells me, clearly sensing what seems to be the boy’s slight discomfort. I squeeze his arm, trying to tell him I appreciate his presence.

“Thank you, Rufus, and call me Iris, please.” He gives me a flash of a smile and a nod before standing with his back against the wall and to one side of the door, but far enough away not to startle anyone coming in.

Turning to face the tables, I take a deep inhale and walk towards the island. Picking up a plate, I’m trying to decide what to eat when the boy who was shovelling pancakes like he’d not eaten in a decade comes up next to me.

“You know that tattooed hunk?” he asks, his voice quiet. I look up from the pastries to find deep hazel eyes surrounded by the most stunning eyelashes staring at me. His face is delicate, with sharp cheekbones and full lips, lending him an ethereal air that I bet fashion houses would die for. He immediately reminds me of a fae prince, especially with that glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Rufus? Yeah, he’s…here to protect me.” I’m not sure if I should have said that last part, but I don’t want this guy to be worried about him.

“I knew it! No man that fine would work as an orderly,” he states in a triumphant whisper, and I can’t help the giggle that falls from my lips. “I’m Johnny by the way.” He holds out his hand and I take it.

“Iris,” I say as he shakes my hand in a firm, but not uncomfortable, grip. “I’m sorry if he made you feel uncomfortable. Rufus, that is.”

“Girl, the only discomfort is in my sweats,” he tells me with a chuckle, letting go of my hand and looking over at Rufus again, giving the gangster a wink. I choke on air as Rufus blushes bright red, his chest shuddering slightly as he looks away. “At least he bats for my team. I can work with that.”

I stare at Johnny, blinking. “How do you know he’s gay? You’ve not even spoken to him.”

Johnny puffs air from his lips, making a gesture at himself with his hand. “Gaydar, darling. It’s like my superpower and it’s flashing fucking rainbows for that hunk of man meat.”

Another laugh bursts out from between my lips. Johnny is like a breath of fresh air, the kind that hits you smack in the face and demands to be appreciated.

“Noted,” I reply, my mouth falling open when he takes my plate from me and starts piling pastries and fruit onto it.

“These pastries are to die for, and we do exercise classes so you can indulge as much as you like. Plus, you know, we deserve a treat after the shit we’ve been through, am I right?”

“Umm, yeah, I guess we do…” I trail off, not sure how to navigate the topic of what has clearly happened to us. I mean, Serene Haven is a facility specifically for victims of sexual abuse. It’s like the elephant in the room.

Once my plate is full of way more than I could eat, Johnny grabs a glass of juice and ushers me to his table, his plate of pancakes still half full.

“Okay, so I’m just gonna lay it all out for you and get this shit over and done with, but that doesn’t mean you have to tell me yours,” Johnny starts as soon as we sit down. “I was living my best life when I met Jason, the man of my dreams. Turns out he was a complete arsehole, and one night after about two weeks of being with him, he drugged me and invited all his friends over for some fun.” Johnny is so matter-of-fact as he tells me, even cutting up and eating his pancakes as he speaks. Meanwhile, my stomach tightens with dread, and I can’t even take a sip of my juice whilst I listen. “That was where the fun ended, and I remember snippets, but not everything. I woke up in a shit state, barely able to crawl out from the bloody sheets to find him and his friends gone. I called the cops, told them my sorry tale, and they suggested I come here to rest and recover.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Johnny. That’s awful.” Tears sting my eyes at the horror of not knowing what happened to you. I used to wonder if that would be better, the not knowing what was happening, but seeing the way Johnny’s face has gone tight, I don’t think it would be. “What happened to Jason?”

“Oh, they arrested him and sent him to prison, along with some of his friends,” he tells me, and I reach out and take his slightly trembling hand. Maybe he’s more affected than he wants me to believe.

“Good,” I say as I squeeze his hand. “And I’m sure if you ever wanted to, Rufus could arrange for him to have a minor accident.” Johnny’s eyes go wide as saucers, the words surprising even me.

“Shit, a hunk and a gangster. I’m in love! You have to introduce us after breakfast,” he pleads, his wide eyes going doe- like, and I just know that he gets what he wants when he turns those on anyone.

“Sure, I’ll introduce you, but…” I trail off, not sure how to ask what I want without seeming to be rude or prying. His face softens and his hand turns and squeezes mine back.

“How can I even think about sex or anything after that happened?” he asks in a soft voice, and I nod. “Well, they may have ripped my arsehole apart, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want someone else to kiss it better, you know?”

My skin flushes hot even as I wince at the graphic way he described what happened to him, remembering the way Nik would come and kiss me better after Sergi’s visits. It was so wrong, but also so right and helped at the time.

“Okay, you’re gonna have to spill that tea at some point, girl.” He laughs as I blush harder, my cheeks and chest burning. I can only give a nod, not quite ready to spill anything just yet. He gives my hand another squeeze, then lets go and resumes eating his breakfast.

There’s something about making a friend so quickly, especially one who has some idea of what I’ve been through, that loosens the tightness which has been binding my chest ever since that awful night when Sergi took me from the Shadows. Picking up a flaky pastry, I bring it to my lips and take a bite, a smile tugging my lips upwards as the flavour of peach fills my mouth.