Page 85 of Devour

“Saylor—”

“I said get the fuck out!” She grabs the pillow behind her and throws it at my face. I knock it away, and it falls to the floor. She’s already reaching for whatever else she can find. The vibrator goes next. It bounces off my shoulder.

“Would you fucking stop—”

“You fucked her, you asshole! In our bed!” She’s screaming now. Her voice cracks, and she’s pulling the sheet around her body and backing herself against the headboard. “I saw you. Don’t you dare stand there and pull your king bullshit on me.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I step toward her, and she rips out the plug to the lamp and throws it at me. The base clips my arm when I knock it away, and the bulb shatters on the floor behind me. “The last time I was in our room was this morning to shower and before that was when I kissed you goodbye. You haven’t responded to a single one of my messages.”

“Liar.” Her chest is heaving, and she’s shaking. “You told me there was no arrangement, and I believed you. And then I walked in and saw you—”

“Sayl?” Her fucking brother calls out from behind me. “Are you okay?”

I turn to face him. “Go the fuck away, Justin.”

“You’re the one that needs to leave. She doesn’t want to see you after what you fucking did to her. Now get the fuck out.”

I cross the room in two strides and shove him back through the doorway. Then I slam the door shut, turn the lock, and put my back against it. “If you come through this door, Justin, you’re not walking back out alive.”

He kicks the door, but he knows I’m not kidding.

I focus on Saylor and her wild eyes. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hard for her. But I always am. And her naked, angry body makes me want to tie her up and sink my teeth into her soft skin. “I didn’t fuck Tracy. I wasn’t there. You can ask the guys. You can go ask each one of the Sinclairs if you want. I was with them all day and night.”

“Then who the fuck was wearing your mask and fucking her in our bed, Axl?” She pulls the sheet tighter around herself. “Because I didn’t imagine it. Justin was with me. He saw it too.”

“Why was Justin with you in our suite?”

“Because he walked me back after we went on our walk. And when I opened the door, there you were with your mask on, fucking her.” Her voice breaks on the last word, but she doesn’t cry. She’s too angry to cry. “So Justin brought me home. Because at least my brother gives enough of a shit about me to get me out of there.”

I stare at her. My brain is running through every piece of what she just said. Someone was in our suite wearing my mask. Someone fucked Tracy in our bed while Saylor watched. Justin was there to play the hero and drive her to the Carter house.

None of this sits right with me. I’m going to get to the bottom of it. I already have some ideas of what happened. But first, I have to get her out of her father’s house and back where I can keep her safe.

“I’m going to figure out who was in our room,” I tell her. “But I need you to hear me. I wasn’t there. I never fucked Tracy. I’m never going to fuck Tracy. And you’re coming back home with me right fucking now.”

She crosses her arms over her chest and then winces from how tender she still is from the piercings. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

I laugh. “You seem to have completely forgotten who the fuck I am, baby. I don’t lie to you. I’m not lying to you about where I was. I’m not lying to you about who I have and haven’t fucked. And I’m not lying when I say that you’re leaving this house with me no matter what I have to do.”

I hold my hands up and step closer to her. I kneel in front of the bed so I’m at eye level with her. “You’re dehydrated. You’re crashing off whatever the fuck you took. I don’t give a shit if you’re mad at me. You can be mad at me all the way back to our suite, where you live, with me. But you’re done taking that shit, and you’re not staying here.”

Tears form in the corners of her eyes, and her bottom lip trembles. “I don’t know how to unsee that. And I had the most awful nightmare that felt more like I was remembering something. I don’t know what to think or what’s real.”

I cup her cheek in my hand, catching the tears that fall, and she doesn’t move away. “I’m what’s real, little heathen. I would never fuck anyone but you. My father could put a gun to my head and I wouldn’t fuck Tracy.”

She stares up at me. “But you’re supposed to marry her.”

“I’m not marrying Tracy. Don’t make me tell you that again, little heathen. What my father wants and what my father is going to get aren’t the same thing. And I’m going to take care of it.”

She wipes her face with the back of her hand and looks away from me. “I need clothes,” she says quietly.

One of my hoodies is on the floor. I grab that and then rummage through her drawers to find her a tank top, a pair of shorts, and a thong. “Come here, baby.”

She moves to the edge of the bed, and I kneel to slide her panties up her legs and then her shorts. She lifts her arms, and I pull off the shirt she was wearing and then slide the tank onto her body, followed by the hoodie.

I help her to her feet and start looking for her shoes. Her room is destroyed from all the things she tossed at me.

“I called for you.” She says it so quietly I almost miss it.