I hurt.
It hurts. Really bad.
Why do people do this?
Great, now I’m crying again.
I don’t want to see my family after this.
And my sister . . .
I can’t ever let Abby know. I can’t ever let any of them know. That much I’m sure of. But the rest of this is so confusing. I just thank God that never has to happen again. I don’t think I could stomach it.
And when does the hurt stop?
I’M GONNA BE sick.
My breathing seemed to come in waves as I moved my eyes from her journal, focusing on deep, calming breaths to try to stop myself from losing it. Hearing her words right after the first time she was raped did things to me that I couldn’t even begin to rationalize. Unhinged something incredibly animalistic and inhumane. So much so that the thought of what I could do to Damon was scaring the piss out of me. I didn’t recognize my own thoughts as they skated around in my head mixed with images that I was ashamed to admit.
She was a child. Lonely, confused, alone.
So alone.
My heart cracked open in my chest, creating an ache for her that was insurmountable. I mashed my forehead to the worn out page and sucked in a deep breath.
Beep.
Drip.
Eva 15 Years Old
He came to see me again tonight. Each time he comes into my room, I hope it’s to apologize. I hope he’s realized what he does to me and wants my forgiveness. To take it back.
But all he does is take some more. Walks away with a new piece of me that I didn’t even know I had left. I wonder when he’ll realize that nothing remains but tiny fragments. Or if he’ll ever care. He doesn’t seem to mind the lifeless body that lies beneath him. Acts as though he’s on the ride of a lifetime rather than a one-way ticket to hell.
He doesn’t see the pile of dust that I’m left in. Doesn’t offer the broom to clean it up when he’s zipping up his pants and thanking me before he walks back out the same door he entered. The one that used to keep me safe—tucked in and warm. And now just holds me hostage.
Because I did this. I said yes. And now . . .
I can never say no.
I DRAPED ONE of my legs over Eva’s thighs wanting to wrap her in security, my enormous body aligned with her tiny frame the best it could be while I twirled a lock of her golden hair.
I needed a break.
A rock lodged in my chest, reading her words. Through my tears, my struggles, I sat with her in those pages—next to her in her room, beside her on her roof, in her yard, under her trees. I followed her, trailing, living in her words, devastated at her fate. Knowing I had to help her through this was all I had to keep me from getting sick because I’d almost chucked a bunch of times. Or sought out his murder. Either way . . .
The metal rail along the side of this hard mattress kept digging into my back, but I didn’t care. I needed to be as close to her as possible. Needed her to feel the warmth of my body. She was so still, looked so peaceful even through the cuts and scrapes on her face. Her bottom lip was swollen, a jagged cut splicing the tender flesh, and around her left eye, a purple swell bulged.
I don’t know how I didn’t kill him.
Even now—staring at her injuries, knowing he was in the same hospital in a room of his own—something was calling to me to slip myself inside and unplug his fucking machines.
But that would make me the same as him.
The different shades of gold in her hair mingled with each other as I wrapped and unwrapped them around my finger. I dropped my chin to her shoulder, my thoughts in a faraway fog, tainted by my exhaustion.
My fingers snagged on a hard clump of hair, and I looked to the iron-colored glob. The entire section was fused in that one spot to the gunky, hardened liquid. Blood. Most likely her own.
Every imaginable worst-case scenario bombarded me, no matter how hard I tried to ignore them. To remain positive. And as I wrapped her inside my strong arms, wanting to be the man she needed, to be her strength and support and guidance home . . .
Everything inside of me broke.
I crumpled into her neck, her body barely moving as I meshed into her side, hoping, praying she would feel my love and wake the fuck up.
Beep.
Drip.
“Angel, if you can hear me, I love you so much. Come back to me, please.” My voice split with that final plea as I splintered to fucking dust beside her. I cradled her to me as her head fell back into the hard hospital pillow. I couldn’t let myself lose it. She needed me to be strong for her right now.
My chest tightened, pulling into the center, as the smell—the room, the familiarity soaked in—bringing with it . . . fear.
What if she pushes me away again when she wakes up like the last time?
My eyes fell to the wooden rolling cart beside her bed, the same kind she had discarded her necklace on months ago. I remembered the pit that sent a sour taste into the back of my throat when I had found it lying there. Though it rested safely in my pocket now, I dreaded the same outcome, knowing how she normally handled these situations, and prayed she was different this time.
I pushed the unease aside and sat up straighter on the unforgiving hospital bed. I’d show her that she had nothing to run from anymore. The secret that had locked her away for so long would now be the truth would set her free.
Eva 16 Years Old
I fucking hate him. My insides ache with disgust. Sweet Sixteen had never tasted so bitter. This was when I was supposed to say goodbye to my adolescence, but that ship was pirated years ago. Everyone wishing me congratulations, telling me how pretty I am. What a beautiful woman I’m becoming.
Beautiful.
What a filthy fucking word. I’m so ugly inside. So ruined and wrecked. So warped that my own self can’t stand to be in my body. I wake up sweating, clawing at myself all night long.
Maybe I’ll extinguish all sixteen candles. Blow them out for good and watch from hell as the smoke billows in their wake . . . up to heaven . . . in my place.
OH, NO, BABY.
I crumbled. I fucking lost it into my palm, sobbing like a pussy on the bed beside her, imagining the state of mind she had to have been in to want to take her life. For her to think that was her only way out of this. I had always known it was bad, but I never imagined it was that bad. My poor little Angel. My poor girl. I combed my fingers through her hair, pulled her limp body to mine and held her close, trying to make her feel, wherever she was. Let her know that she wasn’t alone. She never would be again. My tears soaked into her hair, my eyes aching, head pounding, but I had to go on. I needed to know it all.
To feel what she had felt.
To die alongside her.
Eva 17 Years Old
Broken.
Where once I was whole, I fear I never will be again.
Once happy—I now tunnel through sadness.
Alone.
Today was bad.
Jace found me on the bathroom floor passed out in a pool of vomit after Damon’s latest “visit.”
Once I was cleaned up and sober, he broke me down to the last bit, and I finally cracked and told him what’s been happening all these years. When I refused to tell anyone and told him he couldn’t either, he got so mad, I was sure I’d made a mistake. But in his Jacely way, he reassured me. Told me it would be okay and we’d figure it out.
Then we came up with a plan. We’re going away to college together. I’ll have to find a way to get him in because that boy is not about school, but I’ll do it. I’m excited. For the first time in a long time, I feel like there might be hope. Or at least maybe some air.
THE STERILE ALCOHOL smell was clogging my throat. Hospitals always reeked of urine mixed with alcohol, laced with misery. I tried to ignore the burn as I stared down at the honeycomb blanket covering Angel and me. The scent seemed to drift away, but the blanket did little to take away the chill I felt as I took in her still body. My jaw clamped down as I fought anger a
t the sight of my poor Angel.
The CT scan had shown a bleed on her brain. A bleed on her fucking brain. That beautiful mind.
I couldn’t even wrap my head around it. The doctors were closely monitoring it, but if a good amount of blood didn’t retract today, they were going to talk about possibly making a hole in her skull and draining some out to relieve the pressure. My chest tightened around the notion. Thoughts of her strapped down to some table while someone drilled into her shook me senseless, so I refused to go there. I needed to be strong right now. All I could do was pray it wouldn’t happen—that by some miracle, the bleeding would go away on its own. But the fact that she still hadn’t woken was scaring the fuck out of me.
I took her hand in mine, brushing my thumb over the cuts on her knuckles, evidence of the fight she’d given that motherfucker before he had taken her out. Such a pussy he was, waiting until she was distracted.
Her cuts were beginning to scab, but I knew her internal wounds, the ones marked on her soul, would be fresh once she—if she woke up. Doctors always had to warn you of the worst case scenario, and the thought of that possibility sent a shivering heat up my spine. So instead, I focused on her eyelashes, willing them to flutter, to twitch, to . . . anything.
I curled into her, the ache in my back nearing unbearable, but I refused to move from her side. After hours of sharing the room with her parents, avoiding their questions that were piled high, I was grateful for a moment alone with her while they went for some air and coffee. The answers they sought all lay in this bed with me—wordless.
Abby was scarce, briefly coming to check on her sister and leaving without spending much time in the same room as me. Jace kept vigil but mostly stayed by the door, giving me privacy with her. And I . . . I was never leaving her side again.
“Bl—Blake?” her brokenly beautiful voice croaked.
A pang cricked my neck as I shot up. I blinked, unbelieving as I searched her half-opened, glossy eyes. “Baby?” I rushed to take her face between my hands, my eyes ping-ponging around her features to be sure I wasn’t imagining this.
“Wh-what happened?” She lazily fell into my touch, her hands coming up to feel around the tender areas of her head. Her eyes pinched in a wince.
I scrambled, grabbing the call button for the nurse and pushing on it like a lunatic. “You’re really awake,” I said as more of a statement to myself, still not believing my eyes. I prayed this wasn’t a fluke and she wouldn’t fall back into a motionless slumber.
All she could do was stare at me like a deer caught in headlights. I could see all of the questions swirling as she tried to piece together past events. Pushing her fingertips into her temples, she squished her eyes shut.
I took her shaking hands in my own, brushing my fingertips along her cheek. “Just relax. I don’t want you to get worked up. Let them look you over first, and then I’ll explain everything.”
Her shoulders melted downward, and she leaned into me. Her lids began to drift closed, and my heart lurched in my chest. I cupped the sides of her face in a panic. “Angel?” I examined her features.
“I’m okay,” she replied lazily, her eyes slightly rolling as she sought out mine again.
“You’re going to be okay.” I wasn’t sure who I was reassuring, her or myself. But it didn’t matter because she was—she would be.
I pulled her to my chest. Her arms wrapped around me feebly and I gently kissed her scalp, feeling a calm wash over me. Resting my chin on top of her head, I looked up at the ceiling. With the blow of a breath, I sent a silent prayer up to whoever was listening in thanks for bringing my girl back to me. As long as she was all right, we could do anything. Beat anything. Now that I knew the truth, I would make it my mission to get her justice. I just had to get her well first.
A moment later, a white coat barged into the room, followed by two nurses. “Evangelina, it’s nice to finally see you awake.” The skin at the corners of the middle-aged doctor’s eyes crinkled with friendliness. Though he seemed like he wanted to give the impression that he was unalarmed, I could see the urgency to examine her in his swift movements to her bedside as he snatched her clipboard and began inspecting monitors.
Eva’s eyes moved to the doctor, but her grip around my waist tightened. Nervous, erratic beats thumped from the center of her chest, brushing against my arm.
“You’re fine,” I whispered assurances in her ear. I would give her every ounce of strength that I had—all she was lacking—to get her through this.
She nodded, loosening her hold. I shifted on the bed to sit beside her, lacing her fingers with mine mostly for her support, but for mine as well.
“How do you feel?” the doctor asked while nurses pushed buttons on boxes, checking numbers and counts.
“My head hurts.” Eva felt around in her hair again. The uncertainty was back in her eyes, although she wasn’t focusing on anything specific. Just seemed to be lost in a world somewhere. The weight of her questions sat in the deep lines between her eyes as she seemed to search the back of her brain for answers. Part of me wished she’d forget all of it so she could be rid of it for good. The other part wanted her to remember it all. We would need it for ammo.
The doctor seemed pleased with her counts, and any remaining alarm hidden in his posture melted with the final swish of his pen to the paper. “Yes, well it appears you took quite a hit, though no one could seem to tell us what happened.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye.
The line between her eyes grew even deeper as she pulled from her partial-trance to focus on the doctor. He tilted his nose downward and gazed at Eva over the top of his designer frames. “Do you remember anything?” Cracked and dry, her lips were set in a confused circle, and she seemed as though she were genuinely straining.
“Can she have a minute before the interrogation, doc? She only just woke up. Maybe you should just check her out and back off for a few.” I traced the back of her hand with my thumb. My jaw was set so tight it was beginning to ache. No one was going to push her or make her uncomfortable. I’d make sure of that.
The doctor regarded me briefly before punching a few buttons on a machine and turning back to Eva. “Take some time.” He patted her hand. “Your vitals look good. Relax and see if anything comes to you. I’ll be back in a bit to check on you.”
Eva’s attention fell to the blanket covering her lap, her free hand coming up to twist a lock of hair that lay over her shoulder. When they caught on a knot, her fingers stilled. Her gaze drifted down, her mouth puckering before she dropped her hand.
Suddenly, it was just her and me in the room. I was certain that would change soon. Word would spread quickly that she was awake, and her loved ones would flood in, so I needed to say this fast before we lost our privacy.
“Angel.” I turned toward her, but she didn’t seem to hear me as she picked at the end of her hair. I took her chin between my fingers and eased her gaze to mine. When she looked up, the indent between her eyes was deep with worry. A pink hue crept onto the apples of her cheeks as a gloss began to film her green irises.
Her dry lips parted, and she whispered, “You know.” It was said as a statement.
My shoulders rolled forward, my spine crumbling as I framed her face with my hands. I was quick to keep her grounded, to keep her with me so that she didn’t switch to a dark place. “I know.”
All the words I’d seen written by her hand. All the hurt—all the pain rushed over me like a tidal wave bringing a grate of nausea. I swallowed it down, knowing she needed me now more than ever. Needed my strength to fill in her gaps and keep her whole.
Her breathing bunched in her chest, halted by the new reality that sat on top of us like an elephant. Her gaze bounced around my features as she gauged where I was at and how much I knew.
Before she could draw some far-fetched conclusion, I jumped in again. “I know it all, and I’m not going anywhere. Except maybe to his room to end his fucking life for good.” A tic broke out in my jaw as
a new rage rocked me. Rage at seeing the fright etched into her face. Fury at wondering how many times she’d looked like that as a fucking wolf circled her with no one to save her. Reading her words, I felt her emptiness. The isolation. The destitution. It felt like I was lying on the floor of a hopeless pit, covered in dirt. Knowing I was long forgotten with no one to rescue me.
But I finally got it. Got her. Got her why. Her reasoning for all the times she had pushed me away. But it wasn’t going to happen again. Not now. Not fucking ever.
“I’m here,” I reassured her again, knowing she would need to hear it over and over to truly make her understand. A tear tumbled over her bottom lid as her chest began a heavy rise and fall, anxiety filling it like a balloon. I cupped her face, brushing my thumbs along her cheekbones, spreading the moisture. Combing my fingers through her hair, I held her gaze. “I’m here, Angel. Forever. For You. For it all.”
I gave her a small smirk, reciting words I’d said to her over and over, except this time they held the weight of the world. “I told you—whatever you need.” I swallowed deep, feeling the worry etched on my own face. Fearing the same result as the time I had spoken those words in the past when she had walked away from me for good. This time she would walk into my arms forever. I was making damn sure of it.
A sob cracked her throat, and her lids drifted closed, her head falling deeper into my palm as she covered my hands with hers.
“Give it to me, baby. Let go of it.”
She crumbled into me, her ribs bucking and hiccuping. I rubbed circles on her back, and she melted further. Wanting her to feel nothing but protected, I pulled her into my lap, careful not to disturb all of the tubes and wires poking out of her as I held her to my chest. The blue-green hospital gown lying across her thighs was a dingy reminder of all she had endured.
I hushed her, rocking, holding, supporting all of it. Absorbing her heartache, sheltering her abuse.
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