“This is just the beginning, India, just the start of what I have planned for us tonight!” he said
And then darkness overtook me.
Present
I sit on the sofa, looking at the wall. Tears pour down my face. Dora has been quiet through this whole story, and that’s fine. I don’t expect her to understand. She idolised Christian through high school, like most people in Gargle. My mind feels like a sponge soaked with all the lies I’ve been keeping away from everyone I care about. When I revealed the truth to Oliver’s mother, I felt happier, not like today. After all, Mrs. Morgan learned everything about what happened to me that night.
“Christian was a monster. I never expected him to turn into a cold, hateful psychopath,” whispers Dora, taking my shaking hand. I lift my eyes and look at her wiping my tears away. Shock mixed with disgust is painted all over her face. She’s shaking, and I know exactly how she feels. And Dora only knows part of the story. I don’t think I can bring myself to tell her the rest.
“Yes, he was,” I agree.
“Oh, India, I can’t imagine what you had to go through. Keeping quiet about this all these years…”
“His death was like salvation for me, and on the other hand, I couldn’t do anything with what happened. He was dead. No justice could have been served. Everyone thought he was this perfect boyfriend.”
“But you should have told me,” she says. “You didn’t have to suffer alone. You changed so much after his death.”
“It was just after his funeral, when I saw Oliver. He never showed up, and I was so angry with him. He betrayed me.”
She squeezes my hand.
“So you chose to hurt him, to feel better after what Christian had done. I get it, India. I finally understand why you were so cruel to Oliver in high school.”
I hide my head in my palms, breathing in and out. Dora might understand, but I don’t feel I can justify myself right now. I hurt Oliver so much. If I could change the past, I would, but it’s too late.
“It was wrong, Dora. Oliver didn’t deserve to be treated like garbage. I should have told him the truth. I should have started seeing a therapist or something.”
“You can’t blame yourself. Oliver has forgiven you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t try to be friends with you now.”
“We lost each other when he didn’t show up. I think he could have saved me.”
This is the truth. I can’t blame him for what Christian has done, but if he would have shown up like he promised, we both could have avoided suffering years after what happened. I can’t bring myself to tell Dora it’s not the whole truth, that Christian did more than just hit me.
I also can’t tell her I’m still in love with Oliver and I have been since I saw him at school for the first time in my life.
“You were both in love with each other. Maybe there’s still a chance that you can find a way to be together.”
“It’s over, Dora. I can’t ever tell him the truth about what Christian did, not until he forgets what I did. I don’t want his forgiveness out of pity.”
“But it will be easier for him to understand why you became—”
“No, he wouldn’t understand, and I don’t want him to feel obligated, like he owes me something,” I say.
“Oliver wouldn’t look at you like that. If you tell him the truth, you can both start over,” she insists.
“I will, but not yet and not now. I want him to forgive me before he knows what I went through, before he pities me.”
Dora doesn’t understand why I want to wait with this, and that’s fine because I have to do this on my own. Oliver is with someone else, and this is my own darkness. I can’t just go to him and tell him what Christian did. The old India has died, and Oliver needs to see I’m trying to make this work without any games, without involvement of the past.
When I finally go to bed, the pain in my chest eases off. I still have a long way to go before I accept that I can continue living my life without the haunting demons.
Present
Dora makes me breakfast the next day. She can’t cook, but she’s trying to make an effort. At least I feel better knowing I don’t have to pretend in front of her anymore.
“I’m taking you to the police station. We have to report what happened last night,” she says. I was so absorbed with thoughts about Christian that I forgot about the assault.
“They didn’t do anything, Dora. They sacred me and I managed to escape.”
She slams her hand on the table, angry. “For fuck’s sake, India, I’m taking you to the police station right now. What if those guys try again… on someone else?”
Dora is right. I can’t just let this go. I wouldn’t forgive myself if some other girl were assaulted.
“Okay, fine, we’ll go.”
She nods, looking satisfied. My best friend is right. I don’t want to make the same mistake twice. My life has been ruined, and I can’t let this happen to someone else because two filthy blokes can’t control themselves.
She drives me to the police station outside campus. Within ten minutes, I’m being taken to another room and going through the events of the previous night. The policeman that takes my statement is understanding. I don’t remember much at all, but I let him know where exactly the two guys stopped me. After half an hour of questions, I leave the station with Dora. The police are going to take a closer look at the shortcuts around campus. I can only hope they can catch those guys.
“I told Jacob we were shopping,” says Dora as she parks her car outside our apartment.
“And he believed you?”
“He did, but I’m going to tell a few girls to be careful in the evening. It’s better to set the warning.”
“I guess so. Anyway, thanks for taking me. I need to rush.”
We part ways and head to our classes. Dora is gong to spread a rumour that someone was attacked yesterday. She isn’t going to mention my name, but it’s good that she decided to let others know there is a danger around campus.
The rest of my day moves slowly. By two o’clock, I hear girls talking about the assault, but no one points at me. It’s strange how fast news in Braxton spreads. I feel a little better walking home later on, knowing people are aware they need be more careful.
I have a short day today, so I decide to cook dinner for both of us. I like to be alone in the apartment. I call Mum and chat with her for a few minutes before I go back to my curry. I open my laptop and start looking through the questions for my assessment when I hear banging at the door.
My heart leaps into my throat. Those guys don’t know where I live; it’s impossible.
“India, hey, India, open up.”
I rush to the door, recognising Oliver’s voice.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I ask as he barges through the door, uninvited.
“Were you attacked yesterday night?”
I bite my lip, contemplating if it’s wise to say anything to him. Oliver is playing a good friend now, but it’s not really his business. He looks tense, staring at me, clenching his fists, taking long, hard breaths.
“Nothing happened. Two guys got in my way. They were probably drunk, and I got away,” I explain, closing the door. He paces around the room, running his hand through his hair.
“Fuck, I heard rumours and someone mentioned your name,” he says, looking at me like he cares.
“It’s okay, Oliver. I’m fine. They didn’t have a chance to do anything to me,” I say, looking away.
“I broke up with Rhian.”
I don’t know if I heard right, but his last words sound unreal. I look at him again, my heart beating faster. Maybe Oliver is only playing with me. Maybe it’s another prank.
His chest rises and falls, and I keep asking myself if it’s just a dream. I open my mouth to ask him why he made that decision, but he doesn’t give me a chance to say anything because next thing I know, he’s kissing me. Oliver’s lips move onto mine, gentle at first and then hungry before he presses
harder, kissing me again and again. His mouth consumes me; his arms make their way around my waist.
My legs give way, but he holds me tightly, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. The heat dances between us. My body erupts with desire, and I want to beg him to continue. His lips taste like the morning sun and his touch on my body is like a burning inferno.
“God, India, you taste incredible,” he growls, sucking the sensitive part of my neck.
I gasp for air, my mind spinning, and I don’t know if I should let him take me like this.
“Oliver,” I say between heavy breaths.
“I was worried about you.” He lifts me and I place my legs around his waist, inhaling his cologne. We move to the sofa and when he’s on top of me, a wave of electric warmth washes over me.
There is no more tension, hesitation, or reluctance. It’s only us, and we both want this. The soaring heat travels through my entire body, releasing the pumping desire, when his hand trails over my thighs. I let go of a soft moan as I feel him between my legs. Then he pulls away, breathing heavily, but his eyes are always on mine.
“You are so beautiful. I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he whispers, sucking my ear. I growl with pleasure when he’s back to taking care of my lips, moving his hand over my back. Our bodies respond to each other like we’ve been making love for years.
Oliver is back in my life, and I’m not letting him go, not this time around.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Past Collides with Present
Present
Oliver trails kisses over my chin. His palm is pressed over the swell of my breast. I close my eyes, trying to lock this moment in my memory. Comparing it to that night before the party, when we were together. I move my hands over his back, tracing the cords of his muscles. When I open my eyes again, I notice his sharp intake of breath as his eyes drift shut.
He mutters with an expression of bliss on his face, but before I can show him how much more I want to pleasure him, he slits himself between my legs and smiles, meeting my eyes. Lust explodes in my core, making my head swim. I feel his hardness pressed over my thigh and, oh boy, that feels so good.
I gasp for air, knowing I can ask for more, aware that the pain will never, ever come back. I won’t have to worry about the demons anymore. Oliver is taking them away, erasing memories of Christian’s hands on my body. He is my therapy and my redemption. We stay like that for a long moment, not pulling apart.
“India, you can’t even imagine what you put me through,” he says, breathless. I want to respond and explain myself, but he doesn’t let me. He continues kissing me, harder and fiercer, like he can’t get enough of me.
Before he picks up the pace, he pauses and helps me get rid of my T-shirt. Soon, his clothes fly across the room and we are both connected, bare skin to skin, heart to heart. The heat surges over me and the place between my legs continues to pulse as his hand moves over my breasts. My body reacts when he shifts his touch quickly and devotes his attention to that sensitive spot between my legs. I gasp his name and my body rages with shooting desire. His tongue circles my hardened nipples. I cry out, pushing my hips forward, feeling him hard and ready pressed against my core. My heart pounds in my chest. I press him harder to myself like this closeness isn't enough for me, like I want him to stay like that forever. We’ve both waited so long to truly enjoy each other.
Oliver is gentle and he makes me wait for pleasure. Instead of hurrying up, he kisses me again, lifting me off the sofa. His breath feels short, cheeks warm and flushed.
“India, this is happening too fast. We have to take it easy,” he says, pulling my caramel hair away from my face. I bury myself in his chest, not understanding why he wants to go slow. We sacrificed each other because of the past and now I want to forget and just make love, how we meant to.
“I don’t want to take it easy,” I say, almost whispering.
He lifts my chin and smiles. “You were attacked yesterday and I came here to check on you. I’m not taking advantage of you just because you’re acting on an impulse.”
“Oliver, I’m fine. Those two guys were too slow and I got away. Now the police will take care of them.”
He pushes me back to the sofa and puts a blanket over me. “We don’t have to rush anything, India. I want this to be special,” he adds and puts on his clothes.
Okay, maybe we’re both overwhelmed with this sudden reunion. Oliver’s right. I shouldn’t start something that might be over in a couple of days. A few months ago, I wished he was dead, and now we were just about to have sex without discussing what we both expected.
“Did I hear right? You broke up with Rhian?” I ask, just to be sure he wasn’t joking when he came in. Rhian is a nice girl and I hate that he broke up with her because of me. Now I’m responsible for her grief.
“Yeah, I broke up with her a couple hours ago. I shouldn’t have gotten together with her in the first place.”
I bite my lip and put back my T-shirt and trousers, realising Oliver is right. We aren’t a couple; we aren’t even friends. Only a few days ago, we were trying to rekindle our friendship. If we mix sex into this, then maybe there is nothing real about us. Maybe it’s just a short outbreak of passion carried over from the past.
“Okay, so you aren’t with her anymore. What did you expect from me when you came here?” I ask. Maybe I shouldn’t even trust him. Oliver was clear when he said he’d forgiven me, but he hasn’t forgotten how I treated him in high school.
“I wanted to see you if you were all right,” he says “Besides, what was going on between you and that prick Russell? People on campus say you guys are dating now.”
“There’s nothing going on. We’re just friends. I made it clear to him I won’t date anyone in Braxton. Don’t believe the rumours.”
Oliver starts pinching his eyebrows together. He doesn’t need to worry. I wasn’t planning to date Russell. My aim is to get Oliver to have a conversation with his mother again. He has to forget the old me from high school. Otherwise, there always will be that wall between us.
“What about me? Are you going to date me?” he asks, squeezing my hand. The coldness and hatred I saw in his eyes so many times has vanished; now it’s just warmth and affection. My skin aches for his touch, but he’s right. We don’t have to rush anything. We both need to figure out how we really feel about each other. I don’t think we’re both ready for this relationship.
“One day you want to ruin my life, and then the next minute we’re dating. People will have a lot to say about that.”
“I don’t fucking care what other people say. We can put our silly past behind us and start over,” he says, kissing my neck. I clench my fists, remembering I’m not being completely honest with him. I’ve been keeping that secret away for two years and now I have a chance to explain everything I had to go through with Christian. I could tell him why I turned my back on him and bullied him.
“We should discuss our past. I owe you—”
“India, please, we don’t have to discuss anything. The past is over. We both moved on and we promised to ourselves we would never talk about it.”
I swallow a giant lump in my throat and force a smile, tossing my hair behind me.
“Okay, that’s fine, but we will have to talk about it at some point,” I say.
“We’ll see,” he mutters and glances at his watch. “I gotta go, rugby practice. I’ll see you later?”
“Yeah, great.”
When he leaves, I take a few deep breaths, trying to regain my balance. It’s not a complete reunion. We still have a lot to talk about. Oliver deserves to understand why I was so rotten, why I changed into a miserable bitch in a matter of days. He hasn’t forgotten about Christian, and for him, it’s obvious. His brother’s death broke us apart, but now we might start to understand what we had before everything else fell apart.
I walk up to the wardrobe and take out those two letters I’d written him. There is one more. A letter I haven’t had the guts t
o complete. It would be so much easier if we could tell each other that we shouldn’t be apart any longer and that we are in love, but it’s never that easy. I’m still not ready to tell him what kind of brother he had, what happened to me.
Present
Next day, I step into the cafeteria, feeling tense. I hear the shimmer of whispers behind me and people continue to stare. Everyone already heard the news; rumours travel fast in Braxton.
Oliver came back last night and he made me a late supper and we talked. We decided that the relationship can wait; we have to start by being just friends. For now we will keep everything casual. We both hurt each other, and now it’s just a case of rebuilding our trust in one another. We both want to make this work and we both have to take it slow.
There have been rumours in the corridors that Oliver broke up with Rhian because of me. Since I’ve been here, I’ve heard many rumours, but someone finally got one right. No one dares throw any more cruel remarks towards me when I walk through the corridors. People don’t want to get in trouble with Oliver. He’s like a god on campus; no one dares cross him.
I take a deep breath when I don’t spot Dora anywhere. I want to talk to her about what is going on between Oliver and me, but not in front of others. I should have talked to her last night, but she stayed with Jacob and I didn’t want to interrupt them. But she doesn’t like to be the last to know when something is going on with me. Unfortunately, it’s not Dora that I have to worry about today. Out of nowhere, Russell jumps into the seat next to me as soon as I place my tray on the table.
“Hey, beautiful, how are you this fine, stunning morning?” he asks, catching me completely off guard. He texted me a few times throughout the evening, hoping to come over, but I lied, saying I had to study. Russell is really into me, and I don’t want to crush his feelings.
“Good. What’s up?”
The fact is that I hate lying to Russell. He’s a genuinely nice guy with a big heart, and despite his cockiness, he is crazy about me. If I weren’t so absorbed with Oliver, we could be a cute couple.
Love & Hate Series Box Set (Love & Hate #1-2) Page 19