Climbing out, I slammed the door, hurried her way, meeting her before she had taken three steps. Gripping her shoulders, I yanked her in roughly, embracing her to the point of stealing her capacity to breathe. She smelled wonderful to me, it almost made me forget why I had come here.
“Leah,” I said in a hushed voice, pulling back to stare into her worried eyes.
“What, what is it?” She asked quickly, sounding terrified.
“It's Vanessa.” The glimpse of confusion on her face made me push on. “I went downtown tonight... to Greg's spa, to try and find—never mind. I went there, and I saw him. I caught him cheating on Vanessa.”
“What?” She gasped, her hands covering the horrified shape her mouth made. “No! Oh god, no.”
“I need to tell her.”
She said nothing, her eyes shining with the threat of tears. Slowly, her head moved, nodding in wary agreement. “Yes,” Leah finally rasped. “You're right, she has to know. This is—this is going to tear her apart, Deacon.”
“That's why I needed you,” I said gently. “You're her friend, no matter what sort of fight you're having. You guys are supposed to be there for each other, and right now, she's about to need you more than ever.”
I watched her expression change, from uncertain sympathy, to the solid endurance of understanding. That was the look of someone who was determined, the sort of face that made me want to swell with pride.
Her hand moved, taking mine tightly, so that I let her lead me all the way to Vanessa's door. Beside me, I could feel her shivering, a tremor that passed through her breathing, her skin, and into my own. Despite this, Leah knocked softly with her knuckles, heralding us as the bringers of bad news.
Vanessa cracked the door, staring at the two of us with fleeting looks of distrusting distaste. “What are you two doing here, what's this all about?”
Looking down at Leah, I gauged her expression, the shift from confident acceptance crumbling into watery distress. Vanessa must have sensed it as well, she was breaking before us under the unspoken clarity that something was terribly wrong. If it was intuition, I couldn't say. All I knew was that the two of them quickly embraced, Leah's words rattling between her choked sobs.
“Vanessa, I'm so, so sorry!”
“What is it, what happened?” The taller girl squeezed tightly, digging her thin fingers into Leah's back while she trembled. “Tell me, tell me what's wrong, just say it!”
As they fell together to the ground, embracing and crying over the pressure of the moment, she did as she was implored.
Leah told her about Greg.
****
It was sometime later that I was able to step in, to clarify for Vanessa what had actually happened. I didn't want to give details, but she seemed to demand them, for better or for worse.
“Are you alright?” I asked, sitting beside her on the couch, Leah cradling her on the opposite end. Vanessa was drained of color, save for the bright pink around her eyes, matching her nose from crying. Though she still had the watery look in her swollen face, no tears had been shed for the past ten minutes.
“I will be,” she sniffled, rubbing a hand over shining forehead. “I won't pretend I wasn't suspicious he was doing this, I told Leah about it forever ago.” Hanging her head, her hair brushing her cheeks, I was able to share a short glance with Leah.
So, they thought Greg might be cheating on her before. I never even imagined.
“Anyway,” Vanessa said, sounding cynically amused as she sat up, smiling at me with force, “I just didn't think someone else would discover it. In my head, I pictured either catching him myself, or that he would just break up with me and admit what had been going on.” The corners of her mouth fell, her attention rolling to the floor in thought. “And, honestly, a big part of me was thinking—hoping, that I was just being paranoid.”
Leah placed a hand on her friend's knee, the strain between them apparently gone in the wake of the tragedy. “Vanessa, I'm so sorry about this. I swear, the day I met Talia, I didn't think...”
“It's okay,” she shrugged, sliding her fingers over Leah's, squeezing. “I believe you, I really do. They were good at hiding it. The night I went to get a massage from him, she was friendly to me like usual, she always was. No one could have known.” Turning to me, she gave a long, sad stare. “It sucks, of course it sucks, I mean. But, I'm glad in a way, I'm relieved to know it wasn't all in my head.”
Reaching out, I gave her a brief, tight hug, then stood. “You'll be fine, I know it. You're tough, and you deserve better than what he was doing.”
Vanessa didn't say anything, her lips just slid into an emotionless line.
“Are you leaving?” Leah asked, her own expression pure, honest concern.
Nodding, I gripped the door, the knob cool under my warm skin; the entire apartment felt too hot to me then. I wanted air, some space to think. “You two should talk, I'll check in tomorrow.” Why do I feel so irritated suddenly?
“Deacon,” Vanessa said, full of genuine affection, “thank you again.”
Smiling as sweet as I could, I flashed my teeth, sliding out into the cool air. “I'll see you guys soon.”
I caught Leah's stare as the door closed behind me, those chocolate eyes aching with confused pain. It dug at me hard, but I didn't turn back. Hungry, tired, buzzing with a sense of failure, I headed to my car in silence.
Still, after all that, I have no answers. At least they're talking again, now. Some good has come out of this weird day.
“Deacon!”
The voice startled me, I twisted enough beside my car to see Leah running my way down the sidewalk. “Deacon,” she gasped again, “wait up, please!”
Standing there, my hands buried in my pockets, I watched her approach, not sure how to feel with about her sudden appearance. I'd chased her all day, worried for her, fought for her, and now I realized I didn't want to see her. I wanted space, I wanted to get away and think.
Her hands grabbed my jaw, her body arching up as she stood on tiptoe to kiss my frowning lips. Truthfully, it made my heart flutter, my blood jump with a flush of desire. I yearned to pull her in hard, to bury my worries just from that one bit of open contact. Leah was too good at pulling me in, I knew if I wanted answers, I couldn't let myself tumble.
“What is it?” She pleaded, desperate and afraid. That, too, tore at me painfully. “Why are you mad at me? Please, Deacon, talk to me!”
That was too much, the admission she thought I was angry with her. With great control, I let myself place my hands on the hem of her sweatshirt, holding it lightly while I whispered in an even tone. “I'm not mad, Leah. I'm not.”
“Then what, what's wrong?”
“I'm not sure how to talk about it with you.”
“Please,” she begged, a droplet of liquid sliding down her cheek. It took so much effort not to wipe it away.
Closing my eyes, my chest flexed with the slow inhale of air. “I've realized you aren't telling me everything.”
Her response was fast, surprised, almost accusatory. “I told you about my messed up family, I told you about not finishing college!”
“Yes,” I agreed softly, looking straight into her eyes. “But that isn't everything. You know that.”
Those perfect lips fell open, then twisted in a grimace. “There isn't—there's nothing... You don't need to know anything else.”
“I want to!” My voice was crisp, fingers giving up, finally grabbing her shoulders. “Leah, I want to know everything else! Anything about you, all of it, that means so much to me. Everyone has secrets, but this one... I keep seeing hints of the edges, but whatever you're hiding, it's affecting you still.”
“It's not,” she mumbled, hanging her head, her hair a curtain that hid her from me. “It's not, it's not affecting me. Not anymore.”
“What isn't affecting you anymore?”
“Nothing!” She snapped, coming to life in my grip, wrenching away violently. “Nothing is, please, just leave that
part of me alone!”
“Leah...” I started, reaching out as she stepped back. Her hands came to her head, wrapping in her hair, like she was trying to hold herself together. “Leah, look at yourself, whatever this is about is messing with you! What are you so worried about? That I'm going to reject you over this, too?” Before she could answer, my arms found her again, pulling her to my chest despite her brief, terse attempt to push me away. “Because I'm not going to, don't you believe me? Didn't you tell me before, no one had ever said that to you?”
She went limp, her muscles releasing knots as she gave up. It was a quick, immediate response, one that caused me to have to hold her up until she found her balance. “Leah,” I murmured into her ear, my nose buried in her hair. “I'm asking you to just trust me, you can tell me what you've been hiding, I swear... I swear I won't judge you.”
“You will,” she said, so quietly it was hard to hear. “You'll still judge me. It'd be impossible not to. But... but fine, I'll tell you what you're so set on knowing.”
I won't, I promised myself, no matter what, I won't judge her.
Leah opened her mouth, began her story, and quickly put my faith to the test. “I didn't come to California to pursue dreams or to make friends. I came here to escape my ex-boyfriend.” The words hung, her cheek pressed to my collarbone, that body vibrating with her breathing, her careful words. “I came here to run away, because the man I'd allowed to abuse me over and over for four years finally pushed me too far.” Her laugh was harsh, sour. “It took that long, that's how stupid and weak I am.”
“You're not weak,” I said on reflex, but my voice was emptier, duller, than it should have been. I meant it in my core, I didn't think she was stupid or any of that, yet digesting this new revelation was taking too much out of me. Leah was quiet, so I wet my mouth, tried again. “You're not, not at all, I mean it.”
“You're wrong.” It was a basic statement, it stung like acid. “If I wasn't, why did I... why did I take four years, four years!” She paused, almost amazed at her own words. “Four years, just to realize how bad things had gotten.”
Lifting her head, I brushed back her hair, staring into her glazed eyes. “Listen, sometimes we just get stuck in what we're used to.”
Unblinking, she watched me. “That's what I'm saying, Deacon. What kind of person gets used to being abused?”
I had no answer for her, which was perhaps worse than struggling for any words at all, even the wrong ones.
She tilted her head, then firmly pushed my hands away from her. “You don't need to say anything. Let me tell you the rest, let me get this over with.” Leaning away, she crossed her arms, looked at her feet. “Now that I started, I might as well try and explain myself.”
“You don't need to—”
“I do,” she said sharply. “I really do. Please, let me try... as it is, you don't even know what went down, what do terms like 'abuse' mean to someone with no context?”
“If you say he abused you, then the details aren't important,” I said gently.
“That's why you don't get it,” she whispered, closing her eyes in defeat. “The details are everything.”
The details are everything... I asked her for answers, I can't back away from those now.
I was quiet, Leah took that as a sign to press on. “It wasn't so bad when we started dating, Owen and I. At first, while things were hard, it didn't have to do with us, not exactly... It was easy to just pretend the stress, the fighting, that it came out because of how hard we both had it.
“Between his broken family, and my broken family, we seemed to deserve each other. That's what I told myself, anyway. That I deserved how things were, that it was as good as I could do. That I understood him, his moods, and that made it okay.”
Chuckling, she wrapped her fingers around the ends of her brunette hair. “Even now, with hindsight, I'm trying to defend him. Defend our relationship.” Hesitating, her next comment came through like air in a pipe, tense, warbling and ready to fade away. “The first time he told me I was clumsy, I believed him. When he told me I was useless, or slow, or ugly, I always believed him. I tried very hard to be better, and now, I know that those years, every time I learned to shy away from him when he would yell at me or threaten me, a terrible pit of anger grew inside me to match. I hated that, I hated what he would say to me... what he did to me...”
She seemed to gather her thoughts, before lifting her eyes to meet mine. “I loved him.”
That twisted in me, a serrated blade that tore, made my mouth taste like bile. How could she love someone like that? It didn't make sense to me, I wondered if what I was feeling was misplaced jealousy.
“I loved him,” she said again, slower, softer. “I'm telling you, so you can understand what I mean when I say I'm weak. To understand how fragile and dumb I can be. I make bad decisions, I let the wrong people in, and that's why... it's why...”
The tears flowed down from her emotive eyes, but when I went to reach for her, she lifted her hands to stop me. “No,” she choked out, “no, wait. I'm not done, let me be done with this, finally... it's all I want, to escape it.”
“Leah, you don't need to push me away over this,” I blurted, panic making my neck so tight it hurt.
“If I let you in now, Deacon, before you know it all, and you push me away later, I couldn't handle it.” She rubbed her cheeks, the red skin shiny from liquid. “I loved a man who hurt me, emotionally, and physically.”
My skull felt too small to handle the pressure from everything falling into place. “The bruise on your back.” The sentence escaped me, a will of its own, I couldn't grab it once it was out. Leah didn't seem surprised though, her pink lips formed an imitation of a smile.
“So that's why you looked at me like that, the night we first slept together. Of course, you would have seen it then, when I was facing away.” Reaching over her shoulder, she gingerly touched her skin, thoughtful. “It's healed well, considering how short a time it's really been.”
“He did that to you,” I stated in shocked understanding. “He actually hurt you like that.”
“Yes, he threw me into a table.” Her sudden silence made me worry she was reliving the memory, until she let her hands fall to her sides absently. “That was the final straw. He finally went too far... how pathetic am I, that it took that much? Anyone else would have walked away the first time he screamed in rage, and there I was, thinking I was strong for enduring it all.”
I understand now, I understand so much. And she thought I would reject her for this, the failures of another person?
This time, when I reached for her, she didn't fight me. Pulling her close, I nuzzled the top of her head, felt her breathing against my throat. “Leah, listen to me. You aren't weak, or pathetic, or stupid... you're none of those things, just because bad things happened to you.”
“Would you have stayed?” She asked, strangely aggressive.
“I couldn't say,” I answered into her silky tresses. “But people do all sorts of things when they're in love.”
For a few minutes, we stood together in silence, our hearts thumping, matching in speed. I thought about what she had said, what I had said.
It's true, love makes people do all sorts of things. Stuff that on the outside causes other people to look in and wonder, openly, about how others make the decisions that they do. Briefly, I thought of Carlo, the things he had asked me the morning he'd caught me shaving.
Did he think I was making a poor decision? Shutting my lids, I caressed my cheek on her temple, sighing. It isn't the same, not even close. I'm not so blinded by something like... like love...
Was I?
“Hey,” Leah mumbled, disengaging enough so we could see our faces, my forehead inches from her own. “There's something else, something you really won't like.”
“I think I've gotten a handle on the situation,” I assured her, my eyebrows crinkling.
“A big part of me has started feeling guilty about how I left things wit
h Owen,” she said suddenly. “I pretty much just hoofed it out of there and didn't say much of a farewell. I thought—hoped, really, that he would just pretend I never existed and leave me alone.”
“Leave you alone?” Mouthing the words, my next question came on impulse. “Are you saying he's been contacting you?”
Biting her lip, she hunched her shoulders to her ears. “He'd been trying to before, calling me a bunch, an email, some messages, but he stopped for a while. Then he... called me the other day, and I answered accidentally. It was a bad mistake, I swear, I was distracted.”
“So you and him talked.”
“We did,” she admitted, “it was awful. It was like being near him all over again, he was nice, then condescending, entirely trying to manipulate me.” Shivering, she watched me plaintively. “Please believe me, I don't want anything to do with him anymore, but now I'm not sure he gets that.”
Smoothing my palms over her arms, until I held her wrists firmly, I nodded. “I believe you. That's why your phone was off all day, wasn't it? You were trying to avoid him?”
“He's been calling non-stop again since the one stupid time we talked,” she muttered.
Wrinkling the bridge of my nose, my eyes fell to her hands in mine, to the faded scabs on her skin. “We'll figure something out. Leah, please, promise me you'll always tell me these things from now on?”
“I'm terrible at keeping promises.” She couldn't have been more defeated, so I tugged her arms, kissing the spot between her eyebrows. The look of surprise was priceless, the pink on her cheeks from a sweet blush, not the exertion of crying.
“Try for me anyway.”
Her answer was simple, tentative. “Okay.”
Hugging her, my teeth brushed her earlobe, causing her goosebumps to prickle delightfully. “Thank you. Now, you should go back inside and stay with Vanessa, she's probably going to be a mess over this Greg breakup.”
“She'll be alright,” she said with confidence. “But, listen, there's one more thing I want to tell you. Just, can I wait till tomorrow to do it?”
Something else? What could even be left after all of that?
Tangled: A New Adult Romance Boxed Set (12 Book Bundle of Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Royalty) Page 104