The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew

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The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 41

by Rebecca Donovan


  I nod. Kaden looks toward the slider where Maggie waits inside, holding a package wrapped in colorful paper. She opens the door and steps out.

  “You totally freaked me out,” she says, sitting in the chair across from where Kaden is cradling me in his lap. “Please tell me you’re not dying or anything.”

  I let out a broken laugh. “Not dying.”

  “Good. Because we got you something … to remember us by. Well, mostly me since you’ll be seeing this guy soon enough.” She sets the gift in front of me. I look between them, questioning. “Hurry up and open it!”

  I tear the paper and find an intricately carved box with a scene reminiscent of a fairytale etched on the lid. A girl is placing flowers into her basket while a fox hides in waiting within the branches of an apple tree.

  “Look inside,” Kaden coaxes, his eyes sparkling.

  Flipping up the lid, I find an ornate skeleton key tied to a long ribbon and a leather-bound book with embossed gold-foil lettering. It’s a book of fairytales.

  “The book is from me,” Maggie explains. “It’s the real fairytales, not the puffy, pathetic versions. And Kaden found the box in Germany.”

  “For our letters,” he explains. “And you can wear the key that locks it—that way, I’ll always be with you. You can put it on something more secure than the ribbon if you’d like.”

  Kaden removes the key and drapes the ribbon around my neck.

  “It’s beautiful,” I croak, tears cascading down my cheeks. “I’ll never take it off.”

  I’m utterly ashamed for ever questioning Kaden’s love and devotion or Maggie’s friendship. The thought that I believed they could ever betray me makes me sick to my stomach.

  I grapple Maggie into a fierce hug. She yelps in surprise. And I smother Kaden in a completely inappropriate kiss that makes Maggie whistle, impressed by my brazenness—for once.

  “I love you both,” I exclaim. “Thank you for loving me too.”

  There are more tears when Kaden leaves. He kisses me a thousand more times, promising to call in the morning, as early as Parker wakes. Maggie offers to stay the night, which I take her up on, not wanting to be alone. At least, not in my room. It’s impossible to truly be alone among the Harrisons.

  Olivia makes me tea, and Niall keeps the boys occupied—to allow my heart time to heal.

  The wind picks up just after the boys go up to bed, the once-impending storm finally making its debut.

  “Oh, Kaden left the lights on at the cottage,” Olivia announces when I enter the living room where Maggie and I are planning to watch movies with a huge bowl of popcorn that she’s currently preparing in the kitchen, determined to do it the “old-fashioned way” over the stovetop, promising it will be the best popcorn I’ve ever had.

  “I’ll go,” I say, sliding my sandals on.

  I’m out the door before anyone can protest, not that I’d expect them to. This isn’t the weather for two pregnant women to be traipsing out in, and Niall is still upstairs, reading to the boys.

  The wind blows me back as soon as I step clear of the patio. My hair whips around my face as I follow the familiar path to the cottage. The rain has yet to fall, but I can feel the heaviness in the air, threatening to unleash a deluge.

  I rush as fast as I can, wanting to be back at the main house before the sky opens up.

  Shutting the door behind me, I walk toward the room. I freeze when I find Damon seated in the dark on the couch with his feet propped up, facing the window that looks out on the storm-enraged sea. I stutter in my steps, not wanting to be anywhere near him.

  I turn to leave without saying a word. Hoping he hasn’t noticed me.

  “Did you like what you saw?” he asks.

  I swallow, unable to move.

  A board creaks. I reach for the doorknob, my hand shaking from either nerves or cold—I’m uncertain.

  “Well, did you?” He’s right behind me. His hot breath on my neck, the burning smell of liquor wafting up my nostrils.

  I open the door. He slams his hand against it, shutting it with a resounding bang.

  “I didn’t know you were here,” I say quietly.

  “But you had to look.” His body is pressed against my back. I take a step forward, but an arm traps me against him. “You thought I might be him, screwing your friend, didn’t you?” His mouth brushes against my ear. “Already done that.”

  “Let me go, Damon.” I force my voice to have more strength than is felt within my quivering body.

  “I don’t think so,” he mutters, nudging my chin to the side to suck on my neck.

  I attempt to twist out of his grasp, but he binds me with his other arm, pinning my limbs to my sides.

  Damon picks me up and remains unaffected by my kicks and screams as he carries me into the bedroom. The only room with the lamp still on. He grips my hair at my scalp, ripping hair from its roots. Tears flood my eyes. He yanks my head back so that I’m forced to view our reflection in the mirror. I’m paralyzed by the terror staring back at me. Tears drip from her chin.

  “You like to watch?” He lowers his mouth to my neck.

  I sob loudly, whimpering, my body quaking. I fight to break free. His hands bruise my skin. My twisting and thrashing exhaust me while they strengthen him. The more I resist, the more eager he becomes.

  “Please don’t,” I plead, choking on the bedding when his weight presses me into it, his hand gripping my wrists behind my back. My shoulders strain, and my skin burns. “No, please, no.” But my words hold no power. They are as useless as the muscles, too weak to fight with affect.

  And so … I don’t.

  I stare blankly at the vacant eyes of the girl in the mirror as he jerks my head back, tearing more hair from my scalp—forcing me to watch. The world rages outside. But inside of me … there is silence. I have locked away every emotion. The anger. The fear. The sadness. Secured in a vault hidden deep within. Safeguarding the key. Leaving a hollow shell of a girl to his abuse. His violation.

  Time slips while everything remains frozen, trapped in this moment—as posed as a picture.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”

  Time collides with the rush of movement, snapping me back to the present. The sound of a zipper as Damon fastens his pants. Maggie’s wide eyes in the mirror. I scurry to cover my nakedness, previously unaware he removed my dress. The mirror reflects the floral pattern pooled on the floor.

  “Why would you do this to me?!” she screams. “He was mine! He chose me!” She inhales a jagged breath. “You can’t just take whatever you want away from me!” And then she’s gone.

  Damon’s sour breath wafts in my face. “Keep your mouth shut.” There is a threat simmering in his eyes—where a monster resides.

  I stare back, recognizing the face of evil, afraid to move.

  He is gone. Chasing after Maggie as she races up the stairs. I lie still for a time unknown, staring at nothing as my body pulses and burns. Their volatile words cut through the air like swift strokes of a blade.

  “Faye,” a quiet voice calls to me. “Sweetie, let’s get you dressed, okay?”

  I blink.

  Julia is crouched in front of me, her eyes shimmering. “Can you sit up for me?”

  I slowly rise from the mattress.

  Maggie screams above us, “I’m having your fucking baby! And you’re down there, screwing her?!”

  “Shut the fuck up!” Damon shouts.

  The boards bow beneath stomping feet. The wind rattles the windowpane. A gust of cold air rushes through the house.

  “Where the hell are you going? Are you fucking crazy?” Damon hollers over the wind that continues to wreak havoc.

  A door slams. The voices are swallowed up.

  The fabric scratches my skin as Julia coaxes it over my head, guiding my head through the strap. Her attention averts to the ceiling. Her face is stricken with panic when a resounding boom echoes through the house.

  “Can you make it back to the hou
se?” she asks, her voice quaking. She gently sets a hand on my elbow to prompt me to walk out of the room. I nod. “Go to Olivia. She’ll take care of you. We’re going to take care of you, Faye. I promise.”

  My body heard her instructions. My mind is still locked away, the key secure around my neck. I grip it, the hard metal digging into my palm.

  The rain stings when I step out into the howling wind. It feels like I’m being pelted by sand. I raise my hand to protect my face, disoriented. I hear the faint sounds of yelling. Or perhaps it’s the wind.

  Then there’s a scream. I know it’s a scream because it doesn’t stop. It’s coming from the roof. Two dark forms stand on the widow’s walk. One is gripping the other. The screaming continues. So much pain, it’ll split the sky open. As if beckoned, thunder crashes, and lightning streaks across the black ether.

  I catch sight of Maggie reaching over the side of the railing while Julia holds her back. I venture in the direction of her outstretched hand. On the ground is a body. Not moving. Never moving again.

  My mother slowly returns from that distant place that kept her eyes out of focus and her voice sounding like she’d been reciting a fairytale—whimsical and poetic, so unlike her own.

  Silence settles between us. The weight of Damon Thorne’s death lingering.

  Niall claimed it was the rotted railing and the wet conditions that had caused him to fall, although Maggie swore the railing never broke. It was Niall’s account that was told to the police during the interviews that night. And when the detectives investigated the scene after the storm cleared the next morning, there was a broken railing.

  The remaining truths were locked away in silence.

  No one spoke of the rape. The seduction of a teenage girl. The affair. Those secrets were swept out with the storm. Locked in a box. Buried in a grave.

  Until now.

  My words are weak with shock. “No wonder you can’t love me.”

  My mother’s eyes widen in alarm. “What? No. I love you, Lana. So much. More than anything.” Her declaration is urgent and impassioned. “I chose you.”

  “What about Kaden? Your future together? Why didn’t you tell him what happened?”

  “Because we’d never get back what we had,” she explains, her voice tapering off, emotion strangling the last of her words. “I searched for it, thinking if I could find a way to love … To be whole again … that maybe we would have a chance. And when I saw him that one time, years later … I hoped …” She tucks her chin. Tears drip onto the backs of her shaking hands. “Maggie convinced him I’d been unfaithful. She truly believed I’d betrayed them, no matter what she was told. And I didn’t give Kaden another choice but to believe her. I refused to tie him to a life out of obligation, like Nick was to Cassandra.” She shakes her head like she’s trying to take it back. “That’s not exactly what I mean. Lily is everything to Nick. She was never an obligation, but … he was so afraid of losing her …”

  “I understand,” I interrupt. “You were afraid I’d always remind Kaden of the man who hurt you.”

  She shakes her head. “He’s not like that. He would have loved you. But the truth was, I was too broken to love him … like he deserved. I didn’t even love myself. So I’d never believe I was worthy of his love. And that would be too cruel.” She inhales and releases a quick breath. “I needed to let him go.”

  Tears glisten on her lashes when she meets my shimmering gaze. “And I know I haven’t been there for you. I didn’t want you to be like me. I thought your grandmother would teach you to be braver than I ever was. She could protect you. Give you the courage and strength to defend yourself, like I was unable to do. But after I found you … the night she was killed … I knew I’d failed you.” She chokes on her words. “And then … I lost you.” She covers her mouth to conceal the sob.

  Releasing a quivering breath, she continues, “I’ve been asleep for a long time, blocking out a life that has always been waiting for me. I lost my way. Forgot who I was. Along with my worth. And I’m so ashamed that you had to watch me wither away before I finally woke up. I’m so sorry, Lana. I hope you can forgive me for not making sure you knew. But I’ve always loved you.”

  I gently set my hand on her arm. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry.” I smile warmly. “And don’t discount your strength, Mom. We’re Peri women. We’re warriors. It’s in our blood to fight back.”

  She wraps her arms around me and cries into my hair. I cry with her, my face pressed to her shoulder. My heart aches. Now we know all that I got wrong. The truth is painful, but it won’t destroy us. It only makes me love her more.

  With a stuttering breath to calm my tears, I pull back to peer into her bright blue eyes. “He’s never stopped loving you …”

  A soft knock draws us apart, her response lost. But the surprise in her eyes remains.

  “Come in,” Mom calls out, her voice breaking with emotion.

  We both smooth the tears from our cheeks, twisting in the love seat as the door eases open.

  Brendan steps in, looking as undone as I feel—color drained from his face, his eyes haunted. “I’m sorry.” His voice is strained, barely above a whisper. He presses his lips together as his chin trembles. “I’m really sorry.”

  “Oh, Brendan, it’s not your fault,” my mother consoles.

  I can only assume Niall recounted a very similar story to the one I just heard.

  “I … have something for you.” She stands, removing a letter from her pocket. “I should’ve given it to you before now, but I didn’t have the courage. I was afraid you would blame me, without really knowing …”

  Brendan approaches cautiously, his eyes fixated on the folded paper balanced between her fingers.

  “I’ll let you read this privately, but if you want to talk … I’m here.” She sets a hand on his shoulder briefly when he takes it from her and brushes past him, closing the door behind her.

  I stand to leave as well.

  “Don’t go,” he says quickly. “I need you … to stay. Read it with me?” There’s an agonizing plea in his dark gaze that I can’t ignore.

  I nod and sit.

  Standing in front of me, he unfolds the paper and silently reads it. I watch his eyes skate along each page. The shock on his face. Hurt behind his eyes. The pain forcing him to grapple at his chest.

  Brendan hands it to me, the letter fluttering in his extended hand. I take it as he collapses to his knees. He buries his face in my lap, breathlessly sobbing. I grip his shoulder in an embrace, desperate to comfort him as I skim the lines that begin:

  You broke my heart. But I let you.

  Tears stream freely down my face as I finish reading the last of his mother’s words.

  Please tell my son that I don’t regret a single breath of his life. He was the only reason I woke each day. And I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to keep living for him. I will love him for an eternity. And I hope he finds comfort in his sister’s love because if she’s anything like you, she will give him everything I could not.

  Everyone has a story. And no matter what it is, it’s yours to share or not. But please know that some stories, the ones that cause us to hold blame for something that wasn’t our fault or feel too ashamed to admit anywhere outside of our own hearts, are the stories that are best said out loud. Confide in someone who loves you unconditionally. Or a person who has made it their life’s mission to listen to the silence and show you how to love again. The person who sees beyond the mask, the broken pieces and anger to recognize the warrior beneath. Because no matter your story, you survived it. You are here because you made an effort to love yourself, no matter the weight that may still burden you. You didn’t allow it to trap you beneath the surface. For that, I am grateful – and so very proud of you.

  This book is woven with a thread of truth. I’ve been held beneath the surface by secrets. Some so heavy, I didn’t know if I’d ever breathe again. Like that of a college girl who was haunted by a night without memories. Shamed i
nto silence because I couldn’t put together the pieces. Until I did…a year later. By that time, I was consumed by guilt, fearing my silence may have given him permission to do it again. When I felt brave enough to share my story, my friends listened without judgment. They protected me fiercely and became my warriors. I found love through acceptance. Forgiveness put that part of me back together.

  Our voices have power. But first, we must decide how to use them. It can be by telling our stories. Or contributing to awareness that allows others to find their voices. We get to choose who to share our stories with…and when. Please find strength in knowing you can reclaim that part of you that was stolen. You can put that fractured mirror back together and remove the mask. The person underneath is fierce and capable of changing lives…starting with your own.

  Fight for You…

  Sexual Assault Survivors

  National Sexual Violent Research Center (NSVRC) – nsvrc.org

  RAINN – rainn.org (800.656.HOPE)

  Teen Substance Abuse

  Addiction Center – addictioncenter.com

  National Institute on Drug Abuse for Teens – teens.drugabuse.gov

  Substance Abuse Prevention for Parents

  Teen Help – teenhelp.com

  Project Know – projectknow.com (877.977.3727)

  Suicide Prevention

  Crisistextline.org

  Teen Line – teenlineonline.org

  National Suicide Prevention Lifeline – suicidepreventionlifeline.org (800.273.8255)

  Diagnosing Mental Illness in Teens

  National Institute on Mental Health (NIH) – nimh.nih.gov

  Teen Mental Health – teenmentalhealth.org

  When I first started writing this story six years ago, it was intended to be a single novel called Knowing When – with a completely different premise but with the same protagonist. But Lana Peri wasn’t meant for that story. I placed the outline on a shelf so Lana’s voice could be heard. Hers was a story I needed to write, but I wasn’t prepared to tell it.

 

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