“He raped you.”
She nodded weakly, and her body sagged. Her knees buckled, and I had to reach out to catch her. Using all the strength I had, I carried her to the sofa and laid her down, pulling the blanket off the back of it to cover her before I crouched down by her side and pushed the hair away from her face.
Mum stared off into the distance, her hand pressed against her mouth like she wanted to say the words but catch them, push them back where they belong. Inside of her. A secret again.
“When he finished, he kissed me like he loved me, but all the love I thought I’d felt for him disappeared in those few minutes. I was rigid with fear, shame, and hate. I hated him, even though just a few minutes before, I’d loved him. I’d truly loved him. I was confused. How can you have such mixed emotions over one person in such a small amount of time? He told me he loved me as he kissed my forehead, but how can you love someone you’ve just done that to? I must have whimpered or something because he grabbed my chin and forced me to look up into his eyes. ‘Wasn’t that nice, baby?’ he asked, and for the first time since I’d known him, he looked evil to me. I was petrified, so I nodded like I had loved it. I’d never felt dirtier in my life.”
I couldn’t take anymore. Whoever this guy was, I was going to fucking kill him. I’d go to prison for it. I didn’t care. The rage I’d always known lived in me wasn’t as foreign as I once thought. I got it from him, and I was going to slam his head against a brick wall, make his face bleed, make his eyes burn, and I was going to kill him and tell him he’d learn to love me for it, just like he’d told my mother all those years ago.
My chin fell to my chest, and I blew out a breath. Out. In. Slowly.
I tried to control it, but it was no use.
The man I now wanted to kill made up half of my DNA.
Should I hate myself now, too? I wanted to shed my skin, claw out every bit of him and then stitch myself back together wrapped in something new. Something clean. Something untainted.
“He fell asleep on top of me that night, but I laid on that sofa and stared at the ceiling. I must have cried a river of silent tears. All I could feel was the imprint of his hand over my mouth, suffocating and silencing me. His body felt like a brick around my ankle, and I was sinking under water, unable to breathe. I knew what he’d done was wrong, but he had a way of making everyone love him, even me, and he’d spent the two hours before convincing me what he’d done had been right. He made me feel unstable. Ungrateful.
“It was the first time in my life that I truly felt like I was going crazy, so I snuck out. I tried to escape. I stole the keys for his car—he’d just stolen my virginity, so a car seemed like a fair trade-off for one night—and I sped away from his home. I tore through the streets with tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t see a damn thing. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t see…”
Mum stopped and scrunched her face again.
“What? What couldn’t you see?”
“I didn’t see the old man stepping out into the road. I didn’t see him until he was rolling over the top of the car.”
The crack in my heart was instant, so hard and brutal, I swear, I thought I heard it.
“He was dead when I got out of the car. I had to go back. I was driving my rapist’s car. I had to go and tell him everything, ask for his goddamn help.”
I closed my eyes and waited.
“He hit me. Straight across the face—sent me crashing to the floor like I was the peasant criminal and he wasn’t scum.”
“Mum,” I winced, reaching out to squeeze her hand.
“He got rid of the body for me. I still don’t know how, why, or where. He just took care of it. He left me on his sofa, the one he’d just raped me on, and when he came back he knelt between my thighs, pushing them open so he could rest between them, and he told me not to say a damn word to anyone. It was our secret. Forever. He’d never tell anyone I killed a man if I never told anyone what he’d done to me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“And then he did it again. He took what he wanted from me again. Said it was payment.”
“Mum,” I choked.
A tear fell down my cheek for my mother. For the lost little girl. For the seventeen-year-old who got pregnant by such an arsehole. For the woman who had to look into the eyes of the baby that they made that night, every single day of her life, never being able to move on.
“By the time I found out I was pregnant, he’d already moved on and gone back to his ex-girlfriend. The one who opened her legs for him whenever he commanded. The one who had, in fact, carried his baby after all. The one who swept all his past lies and vicious taunts under the rug as soon as he said a pathetic sorry and asked her to forgive him. The one desperate to keep the father of her child happy, no matter the cost, even if he hadn’t cared enough to be there for the birth of their child. He went back to her because she was willing to do whatever he asked of her, whenever he asked it. Apparently, he liked sex too much, and I was always too uptight after that night. I wouldn’t let him near me again. I made sure we were never alone. But I told him about you… about the baby.”
“What did he say?”
She looked at me with eyes filled with sorrow. “To my surprise, he didn’t accuse me of lying the way he’d accused the mother of his first child. I expected him to spread rumours, to taint my name and throw me and my decent reputation into the shadows, but he didn’t. I suppose he never did what anyone expected of him. In fact, he told me I’d make a good mother, but he needed me to always stay close by from then on. He didn’t believe in abortions. As long as I could keep my mouth shut about it being his, he’d keep his mouth shut about me, too. He wanted to watch me raise his child. He might not be with me anymore, but he wanted to see what his kid looked like, too. He wanted to keep an eye from a distance. He said if I ever tried to leave, he’d make sure everyone knew what I’d done to that old man. I’ve been trapped here ever since.”
“But… Dad.” Was that what I should now call the man who’d brought me up? “Wayne.”
Mum’s eyes brightened for a fraction of a second. “I was five months pregnant when I met Wayne, your dad, your father. He never once looked at me like the bump I was carrying was a burden. I was shy. A nervous wreck. He became my friend first, but after a year or two, we fell in love. The way he was with you was something so beautiful I always wished you were his. But…” She sighed heavily. “I’ve never been able to forget the pain of what happened to me. I’ve never been able to move on, and your dad has suffered because of that. Wayne loved me—loves me. I don’t know. And you were always his in his eyes.”
It was information overload, and I needed to ask one more thing before I allowed her to retreat under her blanket and lose herself until she was ready to resurface.
“Mum…”
“Don’t, Toby.” She knew what was coming.
“My real dad. Who is he?”
I had to pull the car over as the name rang through my head like a damn church bell on a Sunday morning.
Joel Atkins was the baby he’d denied.
And Marty fucking Atkins was my father.
He was a rapist.
He was a tormenter.
He was an abuser.
He was my goddamn dad.
He’d become the law so he could control his fate.
But he couldn’t control me. No one could now. And he had no idea he was already a dead man walking.
I closed my eyes only briefly before I opened them, gripped the steering wheel tight, and made the sharpest U-turn of my life. Southwold held everything and everyone I needed right then…
Especially him.
TWENTY-SIX
Lilac
It took me a while to settle Darlene. I did it as calmly as I could, trying my hardest not to cry for the life she’d lived or for the boy I loved. The weight of her burdens was so heavy. My body physically groaned, and my mind wanted to weep for everything she’d endured.
The p
hysical. The emotional. The mental torture.
Once I knew she was sleeping, I crept back to my house and told my Aunt Coral everything. I expected her to weep for Darlene, but she didn’t. She remained calm. In control. She stepped into the Hunters’ home without thought, promising to stay the night with Toby’s mum. She said she’d call Wayne on Toby’s behalf. She’d take care of everything because she wanted to, not because she had to. I couldn’t have been more grateful. Darlene was too broken to think clearly, and I didn’t want her trying to hurt herself when her world was collapsing at her feet.
I also didn’t know where to start my search, or if Toby was even still somewhere within the Suffolk borders, but I’d scour the world to find him if I had to.
First, I’d start with our home. With Southwold.
As an old fishing village, the historic streets were narrow, lined with short terraced houses that the fisherman and sailors used to rest. Southwold was full of colour, from pastel doors and flowerpots on every windowsill, to the famous beach chalets that lined the promenade. It frightened me how somewhere so bright and full of life could suddenly seem so dark as I pounded down the streets, looking left and right like I had a nervous tick. I thought about all the places Toby could try to escape, even though he’d torn away in the car. Maybe he’d just gone to burn off some anger. Maybe he’d already returned to our small town and was now seeking comfort in one of our places.
Somewhere we’d spent time together.
I headed straight for the old cinema first. I imagined Toby wanting somewhere no one else would think to find him. Somewhere dark and secret. But when I got there and tugged at the front doors, there was no sign of life within that building. I held onto the handle, leaned back and looked up at the roof. No lights, nothing. And even though I had no proof, I knew that wasn’t the place I’d find him. I could feel it. I was still cold, which meant Toby wasn’t near.
Sucking in a breath, I shook out my disappointment and headed down the road that led to the Sole Bay Inn, but he wasn’t there.
After that, I put my old, worn out white pumps to the test and began to jog down the steep pathway that led to the beach. Our hut. Toby had to be in our hut.
My heart beat wildly in my chest the closer I got, a sense of danger rising and striking an odd sensation of fear into my bloodstream. A part of me wanted to cry, but the tears were all dried up, caught in my grief for those who I loved.
When I jumped up the porch stairs of the beach hut, I tried to open the door, but only weakly. Hope drove me to try, but reality knew Toby wasn’t inside.
I immediately snapped my head in the direction of the pier.
That glorious white pier standing proudly against the dark blue ocean and the bright moonlight, surrounded by nothing but twinkling waves and sparkling fairy lights that lit it up almost as brightly as the lighthouse behind me.
I glanced back at Southwold’s lighthouse, straining my neck to look up at the reassuring sight of it.
“Surrounded by so much beauty. No need to be scared,” I whispered to myself.
The breath I blew out of my loaded cheeks sounded like exhaustion. Really, it was my determination to find Toby.
I took off again, jogging towards the pier, wondering if he could be on the other side, looking out into the ocean. The side I couldn’t see. I had to try. I had to, even though the cold that ran through my veins was now turning to ice.
My feet pounding against the wooden beams of the pier sounded like bombs going off. I pushed off the railings—the ones lined with thousands of small, engraved plaques that people had left over the years with endearing messages of love and affection—and I charged to the end of the pier on one side, calling out his name as my hair flapped wildly behind me.
“Toby!” I cried. “Toby, please!”
Please, I begged him in my mind. Come back to me.
The farther out to sea I got, the colder it became and the wilder the wind seemed to blow, icy pins of sharpness stabbing my skin to warn me. It was December. It was freezing on land. Out here, it was like the air was sticking a thousand needles in your cheeks. When I reached the end—the place we’d shared that special kiss—I let out an almighty gasp, grabbed hold of the railings and bent over it, letting desperation break free.
“Where are you, Toby?” I whispered.
“Lover’s tiff?”
I spun on the spot, my eyes wide as my worst nightmare held my gaze, rose from the bench seat and started to walk towards me casually.
“Joel.”
“The one and only.”
“What are you doing here?” I panted, pushing my back against the railing until it hurt.
“Minding my own business. How about you?”
I searched his face and knew what hate felt like. I hated him with his cute features that hid his dark deceit. I hated him because of who his father was. I hated him because of what Darlene Hunter had told me. I hated him for daring to touch me and kiss me during his party, and I hated, hated, hated, hated him for the pain he’d inflicted on Toby that led to us staying apart for so long.
“You don’t have a right to speak to me.” I snarled, the blood-curdling fire within me a welcome invasion to the usual calm.
Joel stalked closer, reminding me of his intimidating height. I’d forgotten how tall he was. His blonde hair was much the same as it had been all those years ago. Still over-styled. Still gelled to a solid form. Not even the December winds could move it.
“Touchy, touchy.” He huffed a laugh. “What are you doing out here on such a cold, wintery night?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Awe.” He turned his smile upside down and gave me a patronising flicker of his lashes. “Has your dream boy made you cry?”
“Fuck you.”
“Toby not doing a good enough job at that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you hate him so much? What the hell has he ever done to you that deserves this much disdain?”
“The guy is a prick.”
“It takes one to know one.”
Joel rolled his eyes. “Come on, Lilac. You know as well as I do that he isn’t all he makes out to be. Toby uses his fists more than he uses his mouth. It’s only going to be a matter of time before he gets himself in trouble again. He’ll probably end up lashing out at you, striking that pretty perfect face and marking it with his filthy hand. Do you really want a life with someone so unpredictable?”
“You don’t know shit about him.” I snarled. “You’ll never be even a tenth of what he is. All this anger you hold, it’s not even anger, Joel. It’s jealousy. Pathetic, weak, spiteful jealousy.”
“Please.” He smirked.
“You just can’t take the fact that he got everything you ever wanted without even trying.”
“I don’t want anything he has.”
“You lie about as well as you style your hair, Joel. Toby got me, and you hate him for it.”
“Because you’re so special?” he scoffed.
“Because I’m the only girl to ever admit to being repulsed by you.”
“Watch your mouth, Lilac,” he warned me through a smile as he took another step closer. “He’s not here to save you tonight.”
“Get the hell away from me.”
“It’s a public pier.” He shrugged. “I’m not holding you hostage. You’re free to leave any time you like.”
There was only a foot of space between us now, and even though he was right, I could leave, Joel somehow seemed to cage me in without laying a finger on me.
I took a step to the right to make room, but he immediately followed suit, stepping in the same direction. I took another to the left, my hands sliding along the freezing cold railing as I looked up into Joel’s eyes.
“Well, shit. Look at that. You’re like a magnet. Where you go, my feet want to follow.”
“Let me go.”
“Did that once already.”
“Don’t do this, Joel.” I clenched my jaw together tight
, hating the way he wore his scarf around his neck or the tweed brown coat that clung to him like he was a thirty-year-old man, not just some arsehole teenager who was way too big for his boots.
“Do what? Talk to an old friend?”
“Intimidate a girl who once said no to you.”
“You didn’t say no to me, Lilac. That dick just got in the way and took your decision away from you.”
“That dick is my boyfriend. I think it’s you who should watch their mouth.” He’s your BROTHER I wanted to shout.
“Some boyfriend. Here you are with tears in your eyes, cheeks rosy from the cold, and lips that are turning blue. I can warm them for you if you like? If he weren’t such a dick, maybe he’d be here offering to kiss and caress you. Maybe he’d have heard the way you just called his name. That sounded like desperation, sweetheart. And where is he?” Joel spun around slowly, arms out by his side before he slapped them down by his thighs. “Nowhere. He doesn’t give a shit about you or your tears. He got what he wanted from you. Now you’re just used, dirty goods.”
“You don’t know the first thing about him or me. In fact, you don’t know the first thing about anything. You can’t see past the end of your own nose. In Joel’s world, everything comes back to Joel,” I practically spat, pushing myself forward. “You don’t own this village, Atkins. You don’t own shit. And you most certainly don’t have any hold over me.”
Using all the strength I had, I pushed his chest hard, and the moment he stumbled back with a surprised smile on his face, I marched past him as quickly as I could.
I thought I’d gotten away after I’d separated myself from him and gained some distance.
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