Felix ignored the one word that slipped out of Henri’s mouth and barreled into the room, knocking Henri aside.
The sight hit him like a punch.
Lydia’s clothes were in tatters, her neck bare, the swimsuit strap hanging uselessly at her collarbone. Her hands were clamped over her chest like she was trying to hold herself together—like something ripped right out of a nightmare.
His brain went blank and a hot, furious rage climbed from his gut up through his chest. He yanked off his sweatshirt and threw it over Lydia without a second thought.
She looked like she’d been crying—those pearly, tear-streaked eyes—but she didn’t make a sound when he came in, just stood there with her lips slightly parted. The sight of her like that squeezed his heart so tight it hurt.
While Felix was momentaril
