Fuse's Hold by E.C. Land (books for students to read TXT) 📕

When she gets out of here, I’ll be taking her home. A home that will be for her and me both. One that will be where I help her heal from the horrors she’s endured this past year and she’ll find the spirit within herself again.

Sighing, I gently lay her hand back down on the bed next to her and release it in order to grab my phone. It’s time to get to work and focus. Meaning I have men to hunt down, find, and bring them here for me to toy with until I’m ready to give them over to Bart. He’ll enjoy the treat I give him when I’m done. Because they don’t say grind bones for nothing. When I’m done with the fuckers who hurt my woman, there won’t even be a bone of them left as I grind them in a woodchipper or meat grinder before tossing the rest into the bayou for the gators to enjoy.

They’ll regret ever touching my Lyrica, ma douce. My motherfuckin’ ol’ lady.

Chapter Six

Lyrica

For the past two months, things have been about me resting and not once stepping out of Fuse’s house after he’d carried me through the threshold. This is the only place I stay. I refuse to leave the confines of this house. I’ve opened windows on nice days and sat there staring out.

I don’t speak much to anyone else, but I do speak with Fuse, though that’s also only a handful of words at a time. They all tried to get me to talk, maybe tell them what’s happened, but I can’t. Not because I don’t want to talk about it but because I don’t want them to know the extent of the horrifying things I’ve done or had done to me.

Being that I’m still wearing a cast on both my wrist and ankle, I’m still bearing the reminders of what happened to me. I also have a few bad scars that show—one of them running from my ear, down my throat to the top of my breasts.

It seems so much has changed in the time I’ve been gone, yet all still the same. Tiny had her baby the other week and I’ve not seen him yet. According to Nora and Brielle, who, along with Faith and Angelina, came to visit with me, it seems Chains isn’t wanting to let Tiny too far from him after Dorian was born. Angelina said the birth this time went well for her.

Sighing, I look out the window as I use my good hand to brush my hair out of my face. Hair that is even longer than it’s ever been. After getting out of the hospital and Fuse bringing me here, the first thing I demanded was to take a shower. He hadn’t wanted to give in to me on this, but he did.

I needed it. Hell, I still need it. Every day I wrap both casts up to keep them from getting wet and get into the shower with the water so hot it could burn you. I scrub my body until it’s nearly raw. I keep trying to wash the filth from me. To cleanse what Leonard and his men did to me from my body.

I’m scared I’ll never be able to be clean again.

At night, I know I scream in my sleep. I wake myself up, or I did in the beginning. Fuse heard me the first night and after that, he waits for me to go to bed and then joins me. I don’t think he knows I know, but I do. My dreams are riddled with horror, but the moment he pulls me into his arms, it’s as if a safety net is thrown around me, keeping them from touching me.

I still have the nightmares, but when I’m sleeping in his arms, they’re not so bad.

My mind is all over the place and I can’t seem to find a way to focus. It’s as if part of me were still back in the clutches of those vile men.

I don’t even want to think of them as men. They’re monsters, every last one of them.

I grew up in a somewhat okay household with parents who actually spent time with me when they could. I knew they weren’t my real parents. They were honest with me. Told me that they adopted me right after I’d been born along with my twin sister. One day though, she’d been in an accident and she’d died. It hurt when my parents told me about my sister and I still feel the pain of it.

I rarely think of her and I don’t think of my parents, who died the year before I met Faith and moved in with her and Alec. Living with them had been some of the best years, which led to me moving here with Faith when by chance, her ol’ man found her again and reclaimed her.

Glancing back down at the sketch pad in front of me, I take a good look at the drawing I’d been doodling. Thankfully the hand in a cast isn’t my hand I use for drawing and such. Before I’d been kidnapped, I’d been working in the club’s tattoo shop in town as a receptionist and learning how to use a tattoo gun.

The guys who work at the shop under Lynch and Throttle had seen my drawings, figured if I could do that on paper, I could do it on skin. I just needed to learn. The day I’d been taken, I had done my first one on Jasper under the watchful eye of Noé.

As I stare at this one, I can’t help but think of it as a great piece to put into art on skin—my skin, in fact. I have a couple tattoos, nothing massive and this is something I’d want.

Maybe I could ask Fuse to get one of them to come here. I highly doubt