“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I was scared to tell my parents. Afraid they wouldn’t believe me. I was the problem child after all. I thought of telling my friends, but Faye was going through her own shit, and Jill was far too innocent.” I look away, biting on my lip so hard I draw blood. “I thought it was my fault, that I’d somehow led him on, and I was ashamed. I didn’t want anyone to know what was happening in my bedroom at night.”
“Did he …” He stops, his jaw working overtime. He clears his throat. “Did he …”
I cling to his arms. “He raped me after I got my period for the first time. Like he was waiting for me to officially be a woman when he forced his way inside me. I was fourteen, and he wasn’t gentle. I cried the entire time and he kept his hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs.”
Brad buries his head in my shoulder, and his entire body is shuddering. Hurt lances me on all sides. It’s so hard to relive this. Especially after I’ve spent years trying to forget. But I’ve been fooling myself in thinking that I was coping. Shoving the hurt and the pain aside hasn’t healed me. It’s only temporarily covered over the cracks. Now they’re wide open and I’m bleeding. Like my heart has been savaged with a pickaxe and blood is oozing from the myriad of open wounds. A huge sob travels up my throat, and my chest is wracked with pain.
Brad lifts his head up, and his eyes are brimming with tears. “Oh my God, Rachel. I can’t believe you’ve had to deal with that. I …” He swipes away his tears. “I can’t believe he did that to you. You’re his sister. He should have protected you from monsters, not turned into one.” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand how your parents didn’t notice something.”
“Alec was clever, and my parents trusted him implicitly. He waited till my parents were asleep before coming to my room. Nights when my parents went out and left him babysitting were the worst. I remember begging my parents to hire a babysitter, but they always shooed my concerns away, insisting Alec was old enough and responsible enough to be left in charge. He’d have his hand in my knickers before the car even pulled out of the driveway. On those nights, he’d ply me with alcohol until I could barely see straight, and he’d force me to reenact scenes from pornos with him.”
All the blood drains from Brad’s face, but I don’t stop talking. I can’t anymore. The words are ready to erupt from my soul.
“I came to welcome that numb feeling. The alcohol anesthetized me to the things he did to my body. I became detached from myself. I liked to imagine I was a mute bystander. An emotionless droid just watching from the sidelines. I was barely living. I was in so much pain all the time. I was withdrawn and sullen, and my parents should have noticed but they were too busy with work and their social lives to pay attention to the signs. I was getting into more and more trouble in school and outside of it, and I began partying hard. I was regularly getting drunk and sleeping with guys. I needed to forget. Every second of every day he was with me. His cruel, taunting words echoed in my ear. His possessive caress left invisible fingerprints on my skin. I used to scrub myself red raw in the shower trying to erase the feel of him on me.”
A potent shudder whittles through me, and Brad holds me even closer. “Sex became automatic. I slept with other guys because I thought if there were different hands on me, a different body inside mine, that I’d be able to erase the way my brother felt as he traumatized me. But it never worked. I’d have sex with some guy at a party, and then I’d hate him. Hate myself. I couldn’t bear to look at the guy again. It was like the physical manifestation of my failure. My self-loathing and disgust were cranked to the max. Some days, I couldn’t even face myself in the mirror. It’s why I never entertained the idea of letting any guy into my life.”
I peer into his eyes. I’m tempted to hold my next thought back, but there’s no point in freeing my soul of this without being completely honest. “Until you. You’re the first guy I’ve been with who makes me feel more than disgust and shame. The first guy who’s brought me pleasure without all the dirty edges. The first guy to bring emotions to the surface. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been trying to put it behind me. Trying to move on. To allow myself to feel things. To feel normal.”
A pained look crosses his face. “Was I … was I too rough with you? If I’d known …”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, and don’t do that. I don’t want to be the victim in your eyes. I want to feel desired for all the right reasons.”
“You are, believe me.” He sweeps my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ears. “Now isn’t the time for this conversation, but I’ve always been attracted to you, Rachel. And if you think I haven’t wanted to touch you, to hold you, and bring you to my bed these last few weeks, then you’re wrong, because it’s all I’ve thought about most days.” His look turns tender. “And it’s not just the physical connection. I’ve enjoyed living with you these last couple of weeks. Enjoyed getting to know you better, and I like what I see. I like you a lot, Rachel.”
At any other time, his words would thrill me. But my emotions are in limbo. It’s always been my best defensive mechanism. To bundle up all my feelings, squash them into an imaginary box, and seal the lid shut. There’s more I need to say, but if I start thinking about feelings, I’ll crumple. If I fall apart, I don’t know if I can piece myself back together this time.
Ignoring his last comment, I continue. “He took photos of me. It’s how he ensured my secrecy. He has hundreds, hell, probably thousands, of naked pictures of me. He said if I told my parents, told anyone, that he’d post them online, share them around school, and that he’d tell my parents I was prostituting myself on the side and he’d been trying to protect me. I knew they’d believe him. Mom was disgusted with the reputation I was gaining around town, and it wouldn’t take much for her to believe him. I was trapped, and so I remained his plaything until I turned sixteen.”
“What happened at sixteen?”
“He went away to college, and I could finally breathe. Could finally start trying to repair the damage he had done. I signed up to self-defense classes and started digging for some dirt of my own. Turns out, he got his girlfriend pregnant, and he forced her into an abortion. My mother is totally against abortion, and she’d be sickened if she knew what he did. When he returned home for October midterm, I had a lock on my bedroom door and evidence of the abortion. I confronted him and told him to stay the hell away from me or I’d tell mum.”
“I can’t believe he had a girlfriend. I assume she didn’t know what he was doing to you?”
“I don’t think so, but I didn’t really know her. He kept her away from me. Hardly ever brought her home. She went to a private school in the city center, and she mixed in different social circles, so she was a virtual stranger. At first, I thought he’d leave me alone once he had a steady girlfriend, but, if anything, his abuse accelerated. He got off on hurting me. He never left marks where anyone could see, but he became violent, and I learned to just shut up and lie there until it was over.”
A murderous rage sweeps over his face. “I want to rip him from limb to limb, tear strips off his skin, and subject him to slow torture, over and over, until all he feels is pain.”
“You’ll have to get in line. I have thought of it, you know. I have money now. I’ve thought of having him killed.”
“No one would blame you.”
“Except then I’d never be rid of him. The memory of what I’d done, what I’d let myself become would haunt me forever. I’d be proving his point; that I’m sadistic and violent like he is. And I’m not. I’m not like him.”
“Of course, you aren’t. You have so much heart, Rachel, and even more so now I know your past. Don’t ever let him make you feel that you aren’t a good person. Because you’re the best.”
His words roll over me, like oil gliding over water.
He is quiet for a few minutes. “How did he react after you stood
up to him?”
“He was furious, and, for the first time in years, I felt proud of myself. Proud that I’d finally had the balls to stand up to him. But that feeling didn’t last long.”
Brad runs his hands up my arms in a soothing motion.
“When he came home that Christmas, he started stalking me. He’d turn up at parties and watch me. I was still out of control, getting drunk and fucking random guys. He beat the shit out of all of them. Put one guy in the hospital. He’d drag me home in front of everyone. All they saw was the caring brother routine. The minute we’d get in his car, he’d jump on me, but my rage was enough to overcome the alcoholic coma. I fought him. Viciously. We both ended up bloodied and bruised, but he knew he’d never be able to rape me again. I was strong enough to fight back. But I was naïve if I thought his hold was only physical. It’s way worse than that.”
He presses a kiss to my temple, and his affection alleviates the battered edges of my damaged soul. “He told me if I breathed a word to anyone that he’d rape Jill and Faye.” His face pales, but I go on. “He told me he’d kill any guy who dared think he could take his place.” An incredulous laugh rips from my mouth. “He gave me his permission to fuck around. Said he understood I had needs and that he wasn’t always there to fulfil them, so I could screw other guys, but no boyfriends. He told me I would never belong to anyone but him.” I shake my head at the memory of that conversation. “I told him he was a fucking psycho and delusional if he believed I would ever think as he did. He said one day I’d stop resisting. That I’d come begging, and he’d be waiting. He said he owned me, and he had the power to make or break me. He told me he didn’t care if I told Mum about the abortion. That it would pale in comparison to what he had to show her.”
“Jesus Christ, Rach.” Brad hugs me close to his chest. “He is a fucking psycho. No wonder you’ve been so scared.”
“I felt so helpless after that. I thought of ending things a few times, but there was always this voice inside my head that said then he’d win. I almost completely lost it after Faye left for America. I never told her. Even after she dealt with her own stuff, because I didn’t want to burden her with this, and I thought I was protecting her.” I look into his eyes. “I could hardly tell her he’d threatened to rape her too. And I couldn’t take the risk and confess. If anything had happened to her or Jill, I would never have forgiven myself. It was only when I visited Wellesley for the first time, and after my parents won all that money, that I began to think there was another way.”
“I can’t believe you’ve kept all this inside for so long.” He cups my face. “You’re so strong, Rachel. So unbelievably brave. And you’re a fighter. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“I reached a point where I wanted to change my life, and I decided I had to stop blaming him for the state I was in. I’m the one who let his actions destroy me. I had to convince myself that I still had control, and with money behind me, I could put my plan into action. I didn’t tell my parents I was leaving the country until the very last minute. As it is, they think I’m in Spain. I couldn’t tell them where I really was because they would have told him. Kev has helped me set up a false identity and masked my real identity.”
“That’s why I couldn’t find you on Snapchat.”
“I don’t have online accounts. I lie and tell my friends it’s just not my thing but it’s a necessary precaution.”
“But he still found you.”
“Yes. I’ve had a couple texts from him in recent months. Kev set up tracking software to monitor his movements, but we believe he has someone else using his identity while he came here under a false one. Kev said whoever has set this up is an expert, so Alec has obviously done the same thing I’ve done: He’s paid someone to find me, while I paid someone to hide me.”
“What do you think his next move is?”
Butterflies go wild in my chest, and that nauseating sensation is back. “I’m worried you’ve just made yourself a target. He must think you’re my boyfriend, and after what he’s said …” Tears spring forth in my eyes at the thought of anything happening to Brad.
“I can take care of myself,” he coolly replies. “I meant what are his plans in relation to you?”
“Oh, that’s simple.” It’s remarkable how calm I sound when I’m in bits on the inside. “He’ll either kidnap or kill me.”
Chapter Thirty
Brad
I swing into action even though I want to stay on the couch and cradle Rachel in my arms. But that asshole is completely psychotic and unpredictable, and I’m scared shitless for her. I put on the TV, place the water bottle in her hands, and tell her I’m going to fix this before moving into the kitchen and pulling out my phone. Every couple of seconds, she looks over her shoulder to make sure I’m still there, and it kills me every time. She’s petrified but trying to put a brave face on things.
I waste no time bringing Keven up to speed. I know I can trust him to take her story to the grave, so I have no qualms in relaying her past. Kev is a guy of few words, so the stream of abuse and expletives feeding through the line tells me his feelings match mine. “I’ll contact Dad’s security guy and send a team to your apartment straightaway. They’ll watch from a distance so she doesn’t feel threatened, but he isn’t getting near her again. Not on my watch.”
“Not on our watch,” I growl.
“Agreed. I’ll also hack into the airport’s server and see if I can find out which passport he traveled here on. If I can find the identity he’s using, I can track his whereabouts, and then, hopefully, find where he’s storing those photos.”
“Good. I’m going to call Ky and Faye and ask them to come over. Faye knows this guy, and she might have some insight, and I think Rachel wants to tell her. To finally get it off her chest.”
“Let’s touch base again in the morning, and if anything happens during the night, call me.”
“Will do.”
I cut that call and make the next one with my heart in my mouth. This is the first time either one of us has initiated contact in weeks. Ky picks up after a few rings. “Hey.”
“Hey. I hate to ask this when it’s so late, but can you and Faye come over right now?”
Silence greets me initially. “Why?”
“This isn’t about me. It’s about Rachel. She needs Faye, and there’s some stuff you need to hear too. How fast can you get here?”
The sounds of hushed conversation filter through the line. “We’re leaving now. Be there soon.”
I sit down on the couch, pulling Rachel onto my lap. I update her quickly and quietly. She looks even more anxious. “Are you worried about telling her?”
She nods. “I mean, I want to tell her. I’ve come close so many times, but I’m scared she’s going to be mad at me for keeping this a secret for so long.”
“She won’t be mad at you.” I kiss her cheek. “None of this is your fault. This is all on your brother.” She looks away, and I tilt her chin up. “You didn’t ask him to do what he did. He’s a sick prick, and he’s going to get what’s coming to him.” Potent rage swirls inside me again. I’m tempted to call Kev back and ask him to arrange a hit on the guy. I’ve no doubt Kev has those type of connections and that he could make it happen. I also know he wouldn’t judge me, but it’s just emotion speaking. Justice needs to prevail. Turning vigilante won’t help Rachel move on from this.
“What if he hurts you or Faye or he uploads those photos online? Everything I’ve built here will be destroyed.”
“Keven will find those photos. We’re not going to let him hurt you again, and that’s a promise.”
Renewed tears shine in her eyes. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Red, you don’t need to thank me. I care about you, and I want to keep you safe. The thought of anything happening to you …” I let my sentence trail off. I can’t hit Rachel with anything else at the mo
ment; she’s way too fragile as it is. At least there is one positive to come out of today’s events: I’m sure of how I feel about her. I’m crazy about this girl, and I’m going to protect her. I want to be her everything.
I’ve barely thought of Faye in weeks. In fact, since Rach showed up, Faye has occupied very little of my headspace. For the first time in years, I have clarity, and the resulting surge of relief is more than welcome.
The apartment door bursts open, and we both jump. “It’s only us!” Faye calls out, and my heartrate returns to normal.
Faye comes into our line of sight first, Ky trailing a few steps behind her.
I look at her and … feel nothing.
None of the usual angst and grief and turmoil lines the space between us. My smile is genuine as I haul Rachel to her feet, wrapping my arms around her body and keeping her close. “Thanks for coming.”
Faye can’t keep the smile off her face either until she looks closer at her friend. Her smile fades as she steps toward Rachel. “What is it?”
Rachel gulps, looking to me for reassurance. I nod, keeping my arms locked around her waist. “I need to tell you something,” she says, eyeballing her friend.
Understanding appears on Faye’s face. “Let’s talk in your room.” She extends her hand.
I reluctantly relinquish my hold on Rachel, feeling her loss the instant she steps away. She’s at the edge of the room when she turns around and runs back toward me, flinging herself into my arms. I close my eyes, savoring the feel of her molded against me. Her mouth locks on mine, and we share a passionate kiss that manages to be both sweet and sexy. I don’t open my eyes once, languishing in the smell, touch, and feel of her against me. I want a lifetime of kisses like this with Rachel.
Somehow, this girl has burrowed her way into my affections and wormed her way into my heart. Now that she’s there, I don’t want to let her go.
When we break apart, we peer deep into each other’s eyes, and I sense she’s feeling everything I’m feeling too. Despite what’s gone down today, her expression is hopeful. I peck her lips quickly. “Go on. You can do this, and I’ll be right here if you need me.”
Saving Brad (The Kennedy Boys Book 5) Page 24