xXx Skylar Carson xXx

"Skylar, for the love of God, the bed didn't do anything fucking wrong," Joe glowered at me, narrowing his eyes before he forcefully pulled me into his bedroom again. I tried to pull my arm loose from his hold before I eventually gave up. Did he not fucking get it? It didn't matter if the bed had anything to do with what Homicide had done to me or not. I had been on the bed, and that was all that mattered. All I could think of now as I sat in this room was the disgusting feel of Homicide's lips on my skin, and the way he'd come so fucking close to raping me.

"I don't care," I muttered, reaching up to brush some stray tears out of my eyes as I shook my head. "I don't want to be in here, Samoa Joe. Please, can we just go to another room? What difference does it make if we're in this room or another?"

For once, I was sincerely hoping that he'd be nice to me. Normally, I wanted to make him hate me as much as possible, but right now, all I really wanted was forsomeoneto feel a little compassionate. Wasn't it enough that these assholes had kidnapped me out of my perfectly content life? I knew that Punk wasn't nearly as bad as everyone else seemed to be, and I didn't hold him accountable for anything that had happened to me. From what I'd learned from him, he had been the only one who hadn't wanted to bring me here in the first place. Everyone else was up for it, and he had originally resented it. As for all the others, except for maybe Rocky, they could all burn in hell for all I cared. Especially Homicide.

He groaned and pushed his hand over his head before he reached into his closet to pull out a couple of t-shirts. "Change into this. You smell like him," he muttered under his breath before pointing towards the bathroom. "But first go take a shower. Fucking scrub everything."

I narrowed my eyes at him, not believing what he was saying. At first, I had thought his emotions were clouded with jealousy and anger, but now, I was starting to realize that he really was this big of an asshole all the time. "I fucking hate you," I seethed at him before storming towards the bathroom, slamming the door as loudly as I possibly could before I locked the door again. I knew that if Homicide could pick the lock, Samoa Joa could to. Actually, he'd probably just kick the fucking thing down. But I didn't care. I wanted to make my message clear to him. I didn't want him around me.

The second I got into the shower, I broke down again. All I could think of was what Homicide had put me through; it was like a broken record playing on repeat in my mind. Every part of me ached, even though he hadn't actually raped me. There were already bruise marks starting to show where he had grabbed me, and I felt the stinging in my eyes since I'd been crying pretty much nonstop since it had happened.

And then I thought about Punk. He had been the only one so far tonight who actually showed that he cared about me. He had known that I didn't want to go into the shower, and he had just held me, letting me cry. Hell,hehad fucking apologized to me and he hadn't done anything wrong.

But I felt so damn hurt and betrayed when Kelly had walked into his room and wrapped her arms around him like she owned him. That was what hurt the most. I knew that she was just a decoy to Punk; that she didn't matter to him, and that she was necessary to get Samoa Joe off my back. But that didn't take away the fact that seeing his arms around her and her lips on him had hurt. It didn't take away the ache in my heart when I saw them sitting there on that bed together like I hadn't just been near-raped there. I didn't blame Punk, since he hadn't been able to get out of the situation, but it hurt nonetheless.

I was starting to fall for him.

I had no idea when it had happened, or why I had started falling for Punk. I didn't even know his real name. But I didn't think that really mattered; not when emotions were strong as the ones I felt. I could see something in those Ligjt, emerald-green eyes of his that I'd never seen in any other man's eyes before. He cared about me too, even if he hadn't really ever said anything along those lines. And that was the one thing I could find hope in here at this godforsaken mansion.

I finally finished my shower about an hour later. I purposely took my time; not because Samoa Joe had asked me to, but because I didn't want to face him or go back into that room. When I finally walked into the bathroom, the door had in fact been unlocked again, and there was a t-shirt with boxers sitting on the bathroom counter for me. I pulled them on before drying my hair with a towel before walking out into the bedroom, my stomach churning when I saw Samoa Joe lying in the bed like nothing was wrong.

"Took you fucking long enough," he muttered under his breath before he got up, looking at me. "Come on, then."

I blinked, looking up at him like he was stupid. Where in the hell did he think he was taking me? He saw the look on my face and rolled his eyes before he reached down to grab my hand in his, and started leading me towards the bedroom door. "You were bitching about staying in that room, so we're not fucking staying in there."

I rolled my eyes at him. He thought I was bitching just because I felt uncomfortable in his room now? I had to wonder what he honestly expected, but I didn't say a word as I just followed him. I heard loud yelling that sounded like Punk's voice and a lot of loud sounds coming from behind a closed door down the hallway, and I wondered what he was doing before Samoa Joe pulled me into the room that used to be mine.

He led me over to the bed and pulled the blankets down for me before he walked around the other side of the bed, crawling in and propping the pillows up before he lay down, adjusting the blankets over himself. I wanted to ask when he'd had the bed frame and blankets put back in the room, but I didn't want to make him even angrier, so I just moved as close to the edge of the bed as I could possibly get before I closed my eyes, trying to get some sleep.

The next morning when I woke up, Samoa Joe was gone, but there was a note lying on the pillow where his head had been lying. I picked it up and read it, and rolled my eyes at the words. He was telling me to go downstairs and get breakfast, and as a 'P.S.,' he had told me not to worry about Homicide and not to start shit with him.

I walked down into the kitchen and stopped mid-step when I saw Homicide sitting at the bar, and I narrowed my eyes at him before turning to walk away. I didn't want to see him; especially not now. It didn't matter if he'd gone through with the rape or not. If he'd have had a chance, he would have. He would have raped me and then he never would have thought twice about what he'd done, and if Punk and Samoa Joe hadn't gotten back when they did, he wouldn't have gotten in trouble for it, either.

"What's up, princess?" He asked me with a small sneer, causing me to turn and glare at him. I hated him more than I hated anyone else here now, and that included Samoa Joe. If I could get away with it, I'd kill the bastard, I thought to myself. I knew that might be a little bit of an understatement, but I was bitter, angry, and scared. I thought I was entitled to a little bit of overstating.

"Fuck off," I said angrily before turning, walking straight into someone's chest. I looked up to see Rocky standing there, an angry look on his face. I was surprised to see that it wasn't directed at me, but rather at Homicide.

"He should have fucking shot you last night," Rocky told him, softly touching my shoulder. "I don't give a shit who you are, you don't fucking rape girls here. I should beat the fucking shit out of you."

"Shut the fuck up, Rocky," Homicide narrowed his eyes at Rocky. It was only then that I noticed how beat up he looked. He had not one, but two black eyes, and his bottom lip was cracked and swollen with a bit of caked blood on it. His cheek had a bruise, and I was sure that the rest of his body was just as black and blue. I couldn't help but wonder who had beaten him up; Samoa Joe, or Punk.

I didn't get a chance to answer before Rocky turned me so that I was facing him. "Joe told me to come and find you. He wants you to go out to the shooting range. Punk is out there. I guess maybe they want you to blow off some steam," he said with a friendly smile before he started leading me towards the door that would lead to the backyard. I was surprised, needless to say. I hadn't expected Samoa Joe to leave me alone after how jealous he'd gotten the night before, let alone let me go out to the shooting range. This was definitely going to be something that was going to be a turning point in Punk's and mine relationship, I thought to myself as I followed Rocky. I just hoped it was a good turning point.