Beretta keeps my attention. “Jameson, Ransom can’t... execute. He hasn’t been able to since everything with his sister,” he shares somberly. “His shame is like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Unease weighs on my lungs. “Shame?”

His brows dig in. “Over what he was doing while she was fighting for her life.”

My stomach drops to my feet, and I grab on to the railing for support as it becomes clear.

“He was with a girl.”

“He was with Amy.”

My fingers claw at my top, clenching.

Beretta’s gaze sharpens, pain and a heavy hint of hope within them. “He was fucking Amy, for the first and only time, while his sister was on the operating table.”

Oh god.

I feel sick for him.

“He needs, but he can’t seem to get past his mind. Something disconnects, and he shuts down.” Beretta stands tall, honored. “We love him, so we help him.”

My mouth opens, and he lowers his chin, waiting for me to connect the pieces.

“You help him…” I trail off. “By being with him, being together?”

He nods. “He tries, but he goes numb when he feels himself losing control, or sometimes it’s as simple as someone touching him in the act. We don’t.”

“So, you, or Arsen, fuck the girl, and he...” I stare at him.

“Tries,” he explains. “He’ll touch, play, depending on where he’s at in his head, and when his body goes numb, he backs away. We slip in, handle her, so she’s none the wiser, and he listens while doing what no girl can.”

He relieves himself.

I shouldn’t care right now, this isn’t the time, but I can’t stop myself.

“Who fucked me?”

His eyes widen, his head pulling back. “Jameson...”

“Never mind,” I backtrack quickly, the thought too much. “It’s—I don’t want to know.”

“Have you not been paying attention?” he says suddenly, and my eyes snap back toward him. He steps closer, his hand coming up to gently cup my cheek as he keeps our gazes connected. “Did you not hear anything I was saying?”

“Beretta...” My head aches, it’s pounding, and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t want to want to hear anything, but I’m a dumb girl, and I do.

“He has never wanted anyone like he wants you,” he repeats his earlier words with a calming exhale. “We could feel it, sense him and his need for you. Why do you think we didn’t take you that first night, like we normally would?”

“That’s kind of an egotistical question to assume you could have,” I breathe.