"There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds." - Laurel K. Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss

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Silas's POV

I beat the fuckface until a thick layer of blood coats his face. I can feel my fists beginning to sore, bruises forming on the tender spots of my knuckles.

Nonetheless, I punch the asshole continuously, until Sawyer finally pries me away from him. "Chill man, he's out."

I feel adrenaline coursing through my veins and the more I look at the shitface laying on the ground, the more I want to beat the shit out of him one more time.

Sawyer looks at me, trying to calm me down. "Hey man, I'm going to call the police."

I nod but my mind is still on the motherfucker on the ground, his blood now spreading to the floor.

My mind is clouded and I don't see Sage pick up the sobbing girl in his arms, and bringing her to our car.

By the time my mind catches up to reality, Sage has already strapped the girl into the car, and he gestures for me to come.

"Can you watch her real quick?" he asks me, gesturing to the sleeping girl in the car.

What?

Hell no! I'm not going to be stuck babysitting while my little brothers deal with the "grown up" stuff.

"The fuck I am!" I holler back.

Sage sighs, as if he already predicted my response.

"Look, we need someone to watch her, and I don't trust you near the accused," he states.

"The 'accused!?' He was going to fucking rape her!" I yell, my temper rising with every second I'm standing here while that dickhead is laying on the ground alive.

"Look man, the press is going to go crazy if you're charged with murder, so will you please just get in the damn car and keep an eye on her?"

That brings me back to my senses. Even through his reasoning, I nevertheless punch him in the shoulder before sauntering inside the car, seating myself on the driver's seat.

God, I should've just killed him when I had the chance. Fucking putting his hands on a woman. I punch the steering wheel.

I look at the rearview mirror, the girl still sleeping soundlessly.

With the indoor car lights on, I have a clearer image of the girl and she looks very familiar.

She is wearing a maroon red leotard with her stomach showing. Feathers are shooting behind her, making her look like a red peacock.

Her lips are the same shade of red with her eyelids having a subtle pink tint to them. Her face seems a lot darker than her arms but it could just be the lighting.

God, where have I seen her before? My mind races to recall any moments with this girl in it. Then it freezes. She was the girl who almost tripped onstage.

Recalling her awkward strut down the walkway makes me cringe.

I then notice flashing red and blue lights. Great, the police are here.

I exit my car and open the backseat car. She looks beautiful, even with the pounds of makeup on her skin.

"Where is the victim?"

"She's right here!" I call to the officer.

She comes my way and I gesture to the girl.

The officer begins to tap on the girl but to no avail. She taps her harder. She finally is shaken awake when the officer grabs her arms and moves her side to side.

She lets out a yelp.

I step back, not wanting to know what the fucker did to her. God, I want to beat the shit out of him again.

+++

In half an hour, me and my brothers were pulled in as witnesses and we all recalled what we had seen.

The bruises on my knuckles were a dead giveaway on who was responsible for the cocksucker's fucked up face but I wasn't charged. I would've beat the shit out of the officers if I was put in handcuffs along with the prick.

An ambulance was called, which I believe was unnecessary, and they took the shit away in handcuffs to the hospital.

I was given an ice pack for my hands.

I leaned down on the hood of my car and began icing my swollen knuckles when Sage came up to me.

"Yo, bro, you'll never guess this?"

I look up. "What?"

"You know the victim?" I nod. "She was one of the people we interviewed as our PA."

I stand up. That's where I know her from!

"What's her name?"

"Caden Wilson."

Caden Wilson.

The last girl we interviewed. The criminal. I contort my face in disgust.

Of course. She would stoop low as to become a stripper. I should've known.

I shrug the thought away as I peer over to the girl talking to an officer. She's moved from my car to the entrance of the strip joint.

She really is beautiful.

But that doesn't fucking matter.

+++

Caden's POV

"Thank you, we have what we need. Again, so sorry this happened to you, Miss Wilson."

I give the officer a weak smile as she walks away to the other officers.

I can't believe this happened.

Cole's not going to be happy. Not only did I lose my job in less than two hours, I managed to put one of his friends to jail.

The thought of me going back to the apartment empty-handed curdles my stomach and tears begin to prick my eyes again.

"Hi," I hear a deep male voice say.

I look up and see one of the men who saved me.

"My name's Sawyer." He pulls out his hand to shake it and I comply. "I'm Caden," I say shyly.

He looks very handsome. And familiar.

Wait Sawyer? As in Sawyer Sanders?

My eyes enlarge and I begin to shift awkwardly.

Oh god. I look around and soon enough, I spot Sage talking to a police officer and Silas leaning down on the hood of his car.

I look down at his hands and see him icing his knuckles.

Jesus Christ. He was the one who beat up Jonathan. Now he's injured and it's all my fault.

Why Caden? Why do you have to be like this?

My mind begins to take me elseward but my eyes remain on SIlas.

Suddenly, he turns his head and locks eyes with me, his expression unreadable. His eyes rake over my body and I look down.

Oh God! I'm still wearing this stripper outfit!

That means the officer talking to me had to look at this leotard with large feathers hanging off of it.

Of course. I always manage to humiliate myself even more.

I look away from him, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

Sawyer interrupts my thoughts by saying, "Yeah, we've met before. At the interview. Remember?"

I nod, feeling ashamed of everything that's happened today.

I failed my interview as a PA, got beat by my brother again, humiliated myself in front of dozens of people, and then sent a man to jail. What is wrong with me?

A chill passes through the air and I wrap my arms around my shoulders to bring in more warmth.

"I should go," I say to Sawyer, not wanting to stand here in this ridiculous outfit anymore.

I begin to walk away, not waiting for a response.

God, I'm so pathetic.

I'm going to have to walk for hours in the night in this mortifying outfit since I'm completely broke and can't afford the bus.

My eyes begin to tear up again.

God, why, Caden?? Why are you so sensitive. You literally cry over everything. You're such a baby.

I choke on my tears when something warm encases my shoulders.

I look up and see Sawyer. He gives me a kind smile. "Hey, let me give you a ride."

I smile. He is really nice.

But then my inner voices speak again.

No, Caden. He's only taking pity on you. He doesn't want a slutty stripper in his expensive car.

My smile falters and I shake my head. "It's okay, I can walk."

I give him back his jacket but he grabs my arm. "I really don't mind. And it's almost midnight; I refuse to let you walk home all alone."

I don't know what to respond. He's really nice. He seemed kinda mean during the interview, but right now, he's kind.

Why do you get intimidated so easily, Caden?

Without waiting for an answer, he wraps his jacket around me again and guides me back to his car.

He opens the back door for me and I sit back in, still not sure if I should do this.

I look repulsive and the last thing I want to do is dirty his car.

God, he must really feel sorry for me if he's risking damaging his car. I'm so pitiful.

I strap myself in and we wait for a few minutes. What are we waiting for?

Suddenly, the other back door opens as well side the passenger and Silas and Sage seat themselves in.

Silas sits in the passenger whilst Sage sits a seat beside me.

I cover myself up with Sawyer's jacket, feeling even more self-conscious.

"What's you address?" Sawyer asks me, looking at me through the rear view mirror.

"Um, 1602, Birdwood Drive," I say quietly.

The car ride is silent with the exception of the soft pop music playing over the radio. I look out the window, my mind clouded with thoughts of Cole and how he will react.

Fear crawls through my skin. He's going to use the belt.

The belt is the worst of them all. Sometimes he uses a hanger, other times, a rolled up newspaper. The worst is the belt. He uses that when he's really angry with me.

A few years after the... thing, Cole used to throw glass plates and cups at the wall, right next to me. They never hit me, but for some reason, it always scared me way more than his beatings.

Our supply of glass anything ran out in our apartment and we never had the luxury of buying more. Not that I would've wanted to anyway.

My eyes fill with tears. AGAIN.

God, Caden, you're such a baby. Grow up!

When we finally arrive, I exit the car.

"Thank you for your help. And the ride. I really appreciate it," I say softly, looking at the ground, too afraid to say it to their faces.

I walk away, not waiting for an answer and open the apartment door.

I notice Cole passed out on the couch, more empty beer bottles scattering the floor.

I let out a sigh of relief. Hopefully, he'll sober up tomorrow.

I enter my room and slump on my bed.

This is officially one of the worst days of my life.

+++

I walk into the kitchen and see Cole reading the newspaper.

"I heard Jonathon got arrested last night," he says, not looking up from the paper.

My body freezes. "It says here he was charged with sexual assault."

He looks up at me. "Who was the girl he assaulted?" he asks me simply.

Oh no.

"Um, well- it's cause she-"

"I know it was you," he interrupts me, "you little slut. God, you just couldn't keep your hands to yourself, could you?"

What?

"W-what?"

"Don't fucking act like a dumb bitch. Did you even make money last night?" He stares at me with cold eyes.

"Well- uh- I couldn't-"

"Of course! Of course you couldn't because you fucking suck at everything!" he yells.

He grabs the paper and folds it in half.

Oh no.

He walks towards me and slaps the paper across my face.

"That's what you get for framing an innocent man of sexual assault."

Another slap.

"That's for not even making any fucking money last night!"

Another strike, this time, harder than the last two. My cheeks throb. My face feels like it's on fire.

"And that's being the dumbest fucking sister ever!"

He slams the newspaper on the ground and walks toward the couch.

I hold back my sobs. Making my way to the bathroom, I lock the door and douse water on my face.

My cheeks feel instant relief. I look up at the mirror. My face is flaming, a bright red color painted on my cheekbones.

After a few more splashes of water, I unlock the door and head into my room.

The stripper outfit is on the floor along with... Oh no

I totally forgot to return Sawyer's jacket!

Great! Great, now I have to go back and give it to him.

The thought of facing the three men who saw me crying in a feathered leotard churns my stomach in humiliation.

+++

After a thirty minute walk to Sanders Headquarters, I enter the huge building and go up to the 50th floor, not bothering to check in with the rude receptionist at the front desk.

The office is bustling with people and I stop short at the sight as people come flying rom their offices to other people.

Why is it so chaotic?

I walk to their office and knock lightly.

No one answers so I knock again, this time harder.

The door swings open and there towering over me is Silas Sanders. Looking very, VERY angry.

Oh no, maybe this is a bad time.

I take a step back as he shoots daggers at me. "What do you want?" he asks coldly.

I'm taken a back with his attitude. "Um, I'm here to return Sawyer's jacket from last night," I say meekly, afraid to look him up in the eyes.

He snatches the jacket from my hands and slams the door on me.

What a rude man.

I step back and walk away, making my way to the elevator.

Suddenly, a woman calls out to m. "Hey you!"

I look around to see where the voice is coming from.

A young blond woman walks towards me. "Do you know how to hack into someone's account?"

What?

"Um, I think so," I reply, still very confused.

"Okay, come with me." She clutches my arms and drags me to a small desk across the room where a computer is located.

She sits me down onto a rolling chair and directs my attention to the computer.

"Hack into this person's account." She points to a blog that has a million followers. One of the articles in the blog has a title that states, "Silas Sanders was just spotted beating up a man outside a strip joint. Oops, it looks like Sanders Corporation has a thing for violence."

I skim through the article. "The police report states that Sanders wasn't charged with assault. Guess rich people really can get away with anything."

What?

Is this blog referring to last night, in which case, this is totally out of context.

"What are you waiting for? Do your thing," the woman ushers me.

"Wh-what do you want me to do?"

She sighs. "I want you to hack into this blog and delete this article."

"Um, are you sure because I'm pretty sure that's ill-

"Just do it!" she yells. Her face is a mix of desperation and hysterics.

I turn to the computer and begin to work my magic.

Cole and I were in a computer program in high school so I am pretty familiar with the working of a computer.

Everyday after school, me and Cole would hack into people's account for fun and post random things.

Eventually, mom and dad found it and we were grounded for months.

I may be a little rusty but I know the basics of hacking and soon enough, I have full control over the blog.

I look through the setting and find a "Delete article" and click on it. Instantaneously, the deceiving article disappears and I smile triumphantly.

"THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!" The woman jumps on me and I am engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. Dang, this girl is really strong.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ARTICLE!!??" a loud voice booms inside Silas's office.

Suddenly, the girl is dragging me to the office. I try to pull back but her grip is holding me like it depends on it.

"Come on, we have to tell them you got rid of it. You won't believe what a relief this is for me. Silas was in a really bad mood today and fired five people who couldn't take down the article."

I continue to fight her grasp but she's way stronger than me.

"Also, my name's Isobel. But everyone calls me Izzie." She gives me a warm smile but my mind is still on the looming door coming toward me.

Izzie knocks on the door frantically until someone swing the door open. "WHAT??!!"

Izzie seems unfazed though. "We got rid of the article," she exclaims.

Silas's face drops. "Who did it?"

She points to me and his eyes follow, landing right onto mine.

Oh no.

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