“You’re the only girl I have ever had sex with.” He said the words so softly that I wasn’t sure I’d heard him. “You can believe anything you want about me, but I will not have you leaving here thinking that I lied about that.”
He let go of my wrist. I should have run out of the room then, but something in those words kept me there, impossibly tethered to him.
“I don’t manipulate people. I sure as fuck wouldn’t do that to have sex with someone,” he said as he sat back on the bed, his hand resting in the evidence of my chastity--ripped away by him.
“Why do you keep pushing me away?”
“Because you fuckin’ scare me.”
Chapter 24
“Moral wounds have this peculiarity - they may be hidden, but they never close; always painful, always ready to bleed when touched, they remain fresh and open in the heart.”― Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Kyler
“I scare you?” She was shouting again. I was a little taken back by how forceful the little mouse was when she put her mind to it. I didn’t like that I kept hurting her, but I couldn’t help it. Madison Evans was a ball of contradictions rolled into an irresistible package.
The truth was, she did scare me and that made me angry.
I liked living alone with my anguish and sorrow. It comforted me; it was a blanket that hid me from the rest of the world and allowed me to be who I was. I hated Madison Evans because with her I forgot what my life really was, she...made me happy.
You can never find yourself in happiness; it’s only something that can be discovered in sorrow. Joy shackles us. Tethers us to a Utopian state that does nothing other than force us to live in a state of fake emotion. But pain--pain unleashes us, every last single part of us. Pain is the key that unlocks a forbidden door, a Pandora's Box, and once opened, there is no turning back. It’s entrenched in who we are, it becomes the very fabric of our existence. But when pain is caused by someone that is in our hearts, it becomes a drug, intoxicating and all-consuming until it swallows us whole.
“You make me happy and I don’t know what to do about that.”
“You’re so fucked up, you know that, Kyler? So fucked up. What a moronic thing to say. I scare you because I make you happy? Do you even know how stupid that sounds? And here I thought you were actually intelligent.”
“I didn’t say it made sense. I’m a fucking mess. I’m fucked up, Maddy. You don’t even know the half of it.” I felt like I was slipping. My mind was already a complete shit show. It had been for a very long time, but I’d managed to keep it under control, living day to day, just going through the motions of life, waiting for the day that it would end and I would die. Then Maddy showed up and lit the dark corners of my world. Light that I didn’t know I wanted or needed.
“Then tell me,” she pleaded, walking towards me slowly, as if I was a stray cat that would either sprint and run or attack her. The truth of the matter was she wasn’t wrong. With Maddy, I felt unpredictable. One minute I wanted to shout at her and the next moment I wanted her to lie on my bed, her beautiful hair feathered on my pillow as I kissed every damn inch of her senseless.
“I can’t.”
“Kyler, you can’t keep doing this. You’re giving me whiplash.” She placed her hand on my shoulder, singeing me with her touch, just like she had already branded my heart. Her words hung heavy. I knew I was a complete asshole to her. I knew that I ran hot and cold, but I also knew I didn’t know how to stop it. “I deserve better than what you have given me.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I turned to her, my hands cradling her face, my lips itching to press against hers. I was so cold, and the only thing that gave a remnant of warmth was this sweet girl standing before me. “Don’t you think I know what a gift you are? My whole life has been a nightmare. I live in darkness. There’s been nothing and no one until you, my sweet little mouse.”
That’s when she started to cry, not perfectly rounded tears that gracefully dance on skin, but the kind of tears that have to be unleashed before they drown you. Madison was in pain and I had a feeling that I’d placed most of it there. I felt the ground below me shift at the realization that I was destroying the only goodness I’d ever seen in the world.
Because I was an asshole. Because I was no good. Because I was ruthless.
“I hate that I make you sad,” I whispered, pulling her head up. I needed her to see my eyes, I was desperate for her to know me, but I was so petrified that if she truly knew what I was she would leave. Using the pads of my thumbs I wiped away the cascading tears continuously falling down her cheeks. “I’m an asshole. I want to be better. I want to be what you deserve, but I don’t know how,” I admitted. “Teach me.”
“Just talk to me,” she said, between bouts of sniffles. “I knew something was wrong. I could tell.”
I felt my shackles rise like sharp pins poking, letting me know that danger was near. My fight or flight instincts kicked in to help me survive.
“What did I say?” I asked, desperate to know just how much I had revealed to her. I had no idea that I talked in my sleep. I’d avoided sleeping in the same room with anyone else for a very long time, repelled by the idea of being vulnerable with another person. Even my own mother had been shunned when I was ten.
“You just sounded afraid and you kept telling someone to stop.” The blood in my veins turned to ice at her words. “You also kept saying you don’t want the candy anymore.” She gazed up at me. “Kyler, did someone hurt you when you were little?”
The question was simple, the answer not as much. I wanted to tell her everything, but at that moment I just couldn't form the words. Once again, I found myself wanting to lash out, but the desire not to hurt her anymore outweighed my need to protect myself.
“Pause? Can we pause this?” The minute I asked the question, she stepped away from me, moving out of my reach so far that I had to take a few steps towards her in order to grab her hand. “I will tell you. Everything. I will tell you it all. I just can’t right now. Will you give me a beat?”
I wasn’t sure what I would do if she said no. I would probably drop to my knees and begin blurting out every dark secret like a madman. But when she said “yes” instead, the weight of the entire world lifted from my shoulders.
At least for a moment.
Chapter 25
“It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.” ― Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility
Madison
“Lucky Charms, the breakfast of champions.” Kyler dipped the spoon in our shared cereal bowl and zoomed it to me like an airplane.
I shook my head, but took the bite, thankful for the crunch and rush of sweetness on my tongue. “The perfect pairing with this mystery coffee.”
I held up the cup of what I was pretty sure was used grounds before they’d run through the drip machine again.
“Hey, coffee isn’t my strong suit.”
“But this cereal is on point,” I teased positively. “I wonder what Jane Eyre would have done if Mr. Rochester had brought her Lucky Charms for breakfast in bed.”
“Oh, she would definitely call them the best charms of her life, don’t you agree?” He leaned in, mischief lighting up his eyes as he snagged the next bite for himself.
“The very best. Cathy, on the other hand…” This time I snagged the spoon myself as I waited for him to give me his opinion on the matter.
“Oh,” he rolled his eyes, “Cathy would have thrown them right back in Heathcliff’s face like a petulant child.”
“A child, huh?” I shook my head. “A woman who speaks her mind is a child, hmm, Sinclair?” I was joking, but his eyes flashed dark for a beat.
“Nope. Newsflash, little mouse, I love you even more when you’re petulant.” He set the nearly empty cereal bowl on the table and pulled me into his
arms, laying me back on the bed behind us. “It’s the childish part I protest.” He didn’t give me room to reply, only pressed his lips to mine in a slow, tender kiss.
I hummed softly in his mouth, loving this lighthearted side of him more than I wanted to admit.
“Can I show you someplace?”
I smiled against his lips, eager to spend more time with him when he was soft and gentle like this. “Yes. But I have to check in at home first. Mom will start to worry. Can we meet up later?”
“Perfect.” He dropped kisses on the apples of my cheeks before lifting me out of bed and setting me on my feet. I enjoyed the warmth of his arms a moment longer before backing away, breaking our connection and trying to rattle the sense of sheer elation Kyler stirred inside of me. “I miss you already, Mad.”
I didn’t reply, only blew him a kiss as I backed out of the door, before turning and clutching my bag to my chest, an unstoppable smile splitting my cheeks. By the time I’d crossed the lawn, my sneakers were wet as I trudged through the grass to the house. I swung the door wide and saw Mom perched in the kitchen on her usual chair. “Morning.”
“Hi, sweetheart. Have a good night?”
“It was fun,” I breathed, noncommittally, sliding into the chair across from her. Visions of Kyler’s nightmare hung at the edges of my vision. “Mom, you got a second?”
“For you? Always.” She slid a chair closer to her, patting the leather-cushioned seat with her hand. “I feel like it’s been forever since we’ve chatted.”
I slid into the chair and smiled at her. “When I was young, I remember you used to have nightmares.” I didn’t know how I should approach any of it, so I just blurted out my question. “What happened?”
My mother’s eyes nailed mine, her hands gripping her coffee mug tighter. “What made you think of that?” she asked, casting her eyes directly at me.
I shrugged. “I didn’t sleep well last night, the memory crossed my mind,” I lied, watching as my mother played with the rim of the mug, a pink one with bright red glitter letters declaring she was the best mom in the world.
My mom always fidgeted when she was nervous, and right now she was on high alert. Her feet tapping, adjusting herself, swaying slightly back and forth in her chair. I knew she wanted to avoid the question, but I also knew she wouldn’t. One thing about my mother, she never avoided a direct question. It was almost as if she wasn’t capable of it.
“Well,” she sighed, standing and moving to the sink where she filled a teapot and turned on the burner. “I’m not sure this is a conversation I’ll ever be ready for, but you’re old enough now to hear it. It’s long, Maddy, and complicated.”
I nodded softly, her eyes searching my face as if wondering if I was truly ready to hear what she was about to say.
“In college there were five of us. Your dad, Monica and Edward, Edward’s best friend Pierce Black, and me. We were like the musketeers, always together. Monica and Edward weren’t married yet, but she was pregnant with Kyler and so miserable. That’s why we went to the party that night--normally I wouldn’t go, those frat scenes were never my thing. A bunch of moronic boys trying to act like big men. I was with your dad then. We were more than seriously dating. We were so in love. Your father normally came to these things with me, but he was at an away game. He needed to play football to maintain his scholarship. Things were never easy for those of us that didn’t have money like Monica and Edward.”
She paused, wiping at wetness in her eyes as she stood at the teapot.
“I should have stayed in, but Monica was desperate to get out and feel like a college kid. She’d been so miserable most of the pregnancy, between morning sickness that lasted all day and night and the pressure from Edward’s parents to get married. They just wouldn’t allow a Sinclair baby to be born out of wedlock. That family has such antiquated notions about family legacy and inheritance. I think she resented it, and just wanted an excuse to forget all of it for a night. So we went to the frat party. The three of us had had a few drinks and Monica agreed to be the designated driver, but then she and Edward got in a fight, so she took off for a walk and he went after her. I stayed for a while.”
The teapot whistled and she poured two steaming teacups for us both before delivering them to the table with honey.
“I should have stayed, but the longer I waited the more it looked like they weren’t coming back any time soon, so when Pierce offered me a drive home I said yes.”
“Pierce Black? Didn’t his family create this town?”
“Yes.” She nodded her head. “They are very powerful and very wealthy. I’d known him for so long, I didn’t think anything of it, but…” She shook her head, stirring honey into her tea, mesmerized. “He didn’t take me home.”
“W-where did he take you?”
The longer she failed to reply, the louder the heartbeats hammering my chest.
“Mom?” The word was barely a gasp. “Where did he take you?”
A runaway train of emotion blurred my vision. I couldn’t see anything, could only hear the blaring nuisance pounding of my heart as she cleared her voice and said, “He took me to an industrial area that his family owned, completely secluded other than a few abandoned buildings.” She swallowed. “He raped me.”
The world slammed to a halt. I couldn't think, could only add up the timelines in my head. “Is that why you and dad moved away?”
She nodded. “I couldn’t bring myself to confront any of it, even the familiar faces in the hallways, wondering if they knew...it was too much. I was so much happier when it was just your dad and me. We had love. That’s all we ever needed. It was a while after that we got married. I went to therapy and found a way to let go of the pain of what’d happened to me, and we lived happily-ever-after.” Tears shone in her eyes as she sipped from her tea. “Being sexually assaulted leaves a scar that’s not easily healed; it took me years to feel right again. And not all victims survive. Volunteering at women’s shelters and being an activist for those that struggle to find their voice has helped me heal, but sometimes the scar runs too deep.”
I swallowed the pain in my throat, thankful for the warm cup of tea in my hands to soothe away the decades of pain I wanted to cry for the suffering my mom had endured. One night, and her life changed in the blink of an eye. I’d always been so proud of the strong woman she was, but knowing she’d been forged in fire made me love her more fiercely than I knew was possible.
“Mom,” I stood, barely controlling the tears, “I’m so sorry that happened to you. So very sorry. I love you so much.” I threw my arms around her, burying my head in her shoulders just like I used to do when I was small and scared, needing for her to feel my strength and love the way I had always felt hers.
“I love you too, honey.” She held me, rubbing my back, soothing me when it should have been me soothing her at this moment. “You brought me to life again. Having you was the best thing that has ever happened to me. You brought both your father and me so much joy and happiness. You’re everything, my sweet girl. Everything.”
I nodded, wiping at my own tears. “I probably look like death.” I sniffed, wiping at my eyes. “I’m going to take a shower.” I threaded her fingers in mine, locking our gazes. “Thank you for telling me.”
She smiled weakly, nodding once before turning back to her teacup and away from me. I sucked in a breath of air, walking down the hallway as I processed the millions of emotions chugging through my body. I went through the movements as I flipped on the water in the shower, making it first searing hot to wake myself up, before easing the water to a comfortable temperature as I leaned back against the wall and let my mind wander.
I thought about my mom and Monica, young and innocent, life crashing in on them in different ways. Their reactions couldn’t be more different. The conversation Kyler and I had had this morning about Cathy versus Jane came to mind. I smiled when I thought of him, half-wishing he was here now just for the pleasant distraction.
Mo
m had seemed to imply earlier that Monica and Edward had more of a shotgun marriage than a true love story. I wondered if Kyler had sensed that pain, even as a young child, and that caused him to act out. Just then, a flashback came to my mind of a moment a few years ago when mom was digging through old photo albums and thrust a picture at me, announcing the first dinner they’d ever made in the new house before I was born. I remembered it because Dad had cleverly remembered to throw a newspaper on the table with the date forever cemented in our personal family history.
They’d moved into the house months and months before I was born. Nearly nine, the more I thought about it. Bile rose in my throat. Kyler was only eleven months older than me. The timeline made me sick to the bottom of my stomach. I pushed through the motions, refusing to allow my swirling thoughts get the best of me as I washed my hair and body, eager to get dressed and ready for my date with Kyler. By the time I’d turned off the spray and was wrapping up in a towel, Mom announced that Kyler was here.
My half-groan when I looked at the wet reflection in the mirror turned to a hopeless smile. Kyler, here, now, meant that he couldn't wait to see me until later. I ran a brush through my hair and pulled on the nearest skirt and top I could find before hustling straight back into the arms of Kyler Sinclair.
Chapter 26
“When one is in love, one always begins by deceiving one's self, and one always ends by deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.” ― Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray
Kyler
“So...are you ashamed to be seen in public with me?” she offered, gesturing to the bags of Italian takeout stacked between us on the picnic blanket as if in explanation.
Ruthless: Black Mountain Academy Page 11