The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel (26 page)

I belonged to Taylor. I always had and I always would.

It didn’t matter that Rhett knew the truth, that the world knew the truth. It only made everything worse. Now every time I looked at Rhett I could see it. The pity reflecting back at me. The sorrow. It disgusted me. Was this what my life had come to? I didn’t think I could feel worse, but I had been wrong. That pity in his eyes, in everyone’s, but especially his. It turned me into something more. I wasn’t just the fucked up step-sister, drug addict, prostitute that he wanted to fuck. I was the girl who had fucked her daddy since she was nine years old. I was the girl who had been raped. It didn’t matter how many men I had fucked or how many lines of coke I had consumed because I would always be defined by the things Taylor had done to me.

And that gutted me, destroyed me in these weeks. It was seeing that in their eyes. Rhett’s eyes. Sarah’s. The pity. They didn’t blame me, but I was ruined now. I was nothing more than a victim. And I hated that more than anything.

“It’s getting pretty late, maybe you should stop for the day and come watch TV with us.” Sarah’s voice was kind and pleading as she patted Rhett on the shoulder. I watched the interaction openly. I didn’t like it when she touched him. It was stupid and irrational, but I still couldn’t stand it. Her hands on him made my skin itch.

I shouldn’t have cared. I shouldn’t have thought anything about it. They were a couple. They could touch each other. I was the intruder in their life. I was the person who had come in and changed everything.

But I did care.

“No. I’m not done.”

A thrill of something shot through me when he twisted out of Sarah’s touch. Even more of a thrill when I saw the hurt on her face.

She was an open book. She still cried. Sometimes even just looking at me made her cry.

An ache bloomed in my chest when her gaze met mine. The sadness there, it ripped at me. I didn’t want Sarah to hurt. She wasn’t a bad person, if anything she was the epitome of the perfect person. Sure, she was a little emotional, but loved hard and cared so much. Someone like her should hate me for coming into their life and turning everything upside down, but she didn’t. Somehow she loved me. I wouldn’t have thought she did if I didn’t see it in her eyes. It was there with that hated pity. She loved me and wanted me to get better.

It made me loathe myself that much more. Because I wanted Rhett now, more than ever. I hadn’t thought that was possible—that I was capable of craving him even more. In my head I knew he would never want me sexually again, not after what he had seen done to me. Not after he knew who had been inside me. And maybe that’s why—because I knew I could never have him.

But the things I wanted from him weren’t just sexual. My hand missed the feel of his. I had still been plagued with the nightmares and he would come in and talk to me about them, but he never touched me again. Not my stomach, not anywhere. He sat at the end of my bed and listened as I told him the horrors of my dream, and then he would go to bed and I would fall asleep like the dead.

“O-okay.” Sarah’s voice cracked as she hurried into their bedroom, quickly followed by quiet sobs. I stared at the closed door. It was just a plain white door, but I had stared at it many times, knowing Rhett and Sarah were on the other side—

thinking of what they were doing would eat at me.

I expected him to get up and follow her in there. Comfort her. But he didn’t. He still sat at the kitchen table staring at a multitude of papers spread out in front of him. His brow was creased in concentration. Aside from the times he came into my bedroom after a nightmare, this was the only place I ever saw him. Hunched over his work, utterly focused. He’d been working from home. Some of the guys from his firm came over to help when they had time. I knew it was Taylor’s case they were working on, helping the prosecution put him away. I’d heard them say it, but I’d never asked any questions.

What would I ask if I did?

They wouldn’t win. He would win. That’s how it worked.

“Do you need any help?” The words were out of my mouth before I realized I was standing and moving toward the table from the couch.

“What?” He glanced up. I noticed there were dark circles under his eyes.

“You’re tired,” I said before I could think about it.

“No.” He shook his head, but I didn’t miss the pity in his eyes before he looked away. It burned me.

“I want to help you.” I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.

“There’s nothing you can do.” His gaze focused on the document in front of him.

“But I want to.” I couldn’t explain this burning need in my gut to help him. It hadn’t been there before. But suddenly it raged inside me like a sweltering inferno. Maybe it was the fact that he did pity me so much, I wanted to prove to him that I was more than that. Deserving of more than just pity.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“I do. Please.” I hated that I was practically begging. Didn’t that make me even more pathetic?

He eyed me with so much pity I could have drowned a thousands deaths in its pool. “Fine.” He shuffled through a box by his feet and pulled out a stack of papers, setting them in front of me. He handed me a red pen and a highlighter. “Okay. These are Taylor’s business bank statements from eight years ago. I’ve been looking through them for any time there is an unexplained deduction of funds, particularly large amounts of money, or surplus’s of money.” He moved closer, so close that I could smell his musky aftershave. He tapped the top of the paper with his finger. “I also want you to look for consistent check deposits from people who are not on the list.” He reached across the table, his arm brushing against mine, sending a wave goose bumps rolling across my skin. “These are his verified business partners from that year. Monetary deposits and withdrawals from these companies are normal, so disregard them. They are the people he contracted with, but anything else you highlight and let me know. Okay?”

His words were stiff, precise. He seemed almost like he didn’t want to be telling me these things, but was doing it anyway.

I nodded and he moved back around the table and focused on the paper in front of him. I watched him for a minute. It was pathetic how helpless I was when it came to him. He wore sweat pants and white v-neck shirt. His hair was messy because he hadn’t fixed it today, but he was one of those guys who could just wake up and leave and everyone would copy his hairstyle even if it was just a mess, that’s how handsome he was. So handsome it hurt.

“You okay?”

I jumped and stared down at the papers in front of me to avoid his gaze. I’d been so lost in thought I hadn’t noticed that he was watching me, watching him. Did he see it, the way I wanted him? Was he disgusted by it?

“Yep.”

He didn’t say anything else and we settled into silence, each pouring over the bank statements in front of us. There was nothing interesting about them. Taylor seemed to have kept his P’s and Q’s in line. There was nothing abnormal about the statements. No unexplained deposits. The longer I looked at the numbers, the names of the companies, the sicker I started to feel about all of it. Taylor was a brilliant man. A horrible man, but he was smart. We would never find anything. Nothing in the numbers would reveal the things he had done to me, or anything else.

After finishing my calendar year, I sat back and sighed.

“Find anything?”

I glanced up at Rhett. “Nope.”

“That’s okay.” He stood up and grabbed the stack in front of me and deposited it back into the box.

“You’re not going to find anything.”

“You don’t think so?” His tone wasn’t condescending, but curious rather, and perhaps a little tired.

“No. He’s good, Rhett. He doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Yes, he does, Faye. Everyone makes mistakes.” He shook his head back and forth. “I shouldn’t have let you look through those. You shouldn’t be involved in this.”

I stood up, nearly knocking my chair over backward. “What is that supposed to mean?”

I didn’t think there could be more pity in his eyes, but I was wrong. I watched it multiply like a virus in his irises. “He hurt you. You shouldn’t have to look at the outline of his life, even if it is just bank statements.”

“I’m not fragile or whatever.” That’s exactly what he thought I was.

“You’re upset,” he said blandly.

“Yeah, cause you’re a dick.” I turned away from him in a huff. I didn’t know why I was so frustrated, but I knew I needed a cigarette and some fresh air. Ironic, right? I hurried to my room and grabbed my pack and headed out the front door.

I’d made it a habit to sit on the corner of the little porch they had on their apartment. I didn’t sit in their lawn chair. There was something strangely comforting about plopping down on the pavement. Maybe it was because I had spent three years of my life smoking cigarettes just like this, sitting on a curb, waiting for my next John.

The first inhale had an immediate calming effect, relaxing me. But it wasn’t quite enough. There was something under my skin that begged for the cocaine. I didn’t notice it as much now. It was almost like it wasn’t there, not always. It would go away, disappear. The urge for a bump wasn’t like it used to be. Some addicts from the hospital I’d gone to had been craving their poison for years, others claimed it was always a constant burn in their veins. I didn’t feel that way.

Thinking about the cocaine disgusted me. I felt sick at the very idea of consuming it, but I craved the haze of it. The bliss that would take me somewhere else. Somewhere foreign, where the little things couldn’t get to me, couldn’t devour me like they did now.

The squeak of the front door opening, startled me and I jumped. Rhett sitting down beside me, surprised me even more. If I thought anyone would come outside I expected it would be Sarah. Rhett never came out with me while I smoked. His presence was constant, but never really present, if that made any sense. He was there, but he wasn’t. Not emotionally, not until I had a nightmare. Those were our only shared moments where we were both truly present.

“Can I have a drag off that?”

I gave him a sideways glance on an exhale and handed the cigarette over. “I didn’t think you smoked.”

“I used to. In college. Not anymore.”

I nodded when he handed it back, taking another long drag.

We sat there in silence for several minutes, passing the cigarette back and forth until it was gone and he stubbed it out in the grass.

I figured he would get up and go in now, that he would head on to bed and be with Sarah. But he didn’t. He sat there, his big body only inches away from mine. I wanted to be angry at him. Frustrated. But I wasn’t. I couldn’t muster up the energy to be mad at him.

“I don’t think you’re fragile.”

I snorted. “That’s exactly what you think.” I didn’t sound upset or sad, just resigned to the reality of it all.

“No, Faye, no.” He shook his head. “You don’t get it.”

I frowned. “I don’t get what?”

“You’re the strongest person I know.” He was staring at me now. His eyes, shiny orbs reflected in the parking lights.

I snorted again. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not. The things he did to you…I don’t think anyone else could have survived them. But
you
did.”

He seemed sincere, like he really believed the words. It made the backs of my eyes feel suddenly hot, like they were going to burst.

“Only someone strong could have made it through all of that bullshit he did to you.”

I wish I could’ve believed his words. I wished I felt strong, but I was anything but that.

“Your strength is what makes everything worth it. My father is smart, but he’s not perfect. He makes mistakes. He’s done things, other things. He’s had a hand in killing people. He’s been trafficking drugs apparently. I
know
he has. I’m going to prove it too. There
is
something in those statements. It’s in there—we just have to find it.” The conviction in his voice made my heart pound. “I’m not going to give up until I find the proof. The evidence of all the shit he’s done.” He reached out and grabbed my hand. The feel of my fingers twined with his felt more right than anything in the world and made my heart flutter. “You didn’t survive in vain. He
will
pay for what he’s done to you.”

The utter conviction in his voice, in his eyes, in the squeeze of his hand. It made me want to believe that it was true. That there was something in those papers, proof of more of the horrible things Taylor had done. But I didn’t believe, not really. I wanted to though. I wanted it so badly I could fucking taste it.

“I want to help you.” And I did. Even though nothing would come of it. I wanted to. If it meant that Rhett would look at me like he was now, like he thought I hung the sun and the moon, like I was some strong beautiful goddess up on a pedestal that he worshipped. Then I would do it for as long as I could. It didn’t matter that I would end up back in hell with Taylor. The trip through heaven with Rhett to get there would be worth it.

It had to be.

FIVE

“Find anything good, Faye?” I glanced up at Roger, who was sitting across from me.