by Janie Marie
Kylie’s chest burned. “I get it. I’m a monster.”
“You’re not a monster,” he said calmly. “You were a child raised in darkness, taught to avoid light. You were abused, Kylie.”
He stared into her watery eyes. “Your father abused you, and your mother neglected you and refused to get proper help. Your poor stepsister was your father’s new victim. Neither of you were protected because the one mother you had left became blinded by her sorrow—and dazzled by the idea of a white knight saving her and her child.”
He tossed her folder on the bed. “I’m going to help each of you. I’m going to show you just how loved you really are by each other. I’m going to show you how to forgive each other and yourselves. I’m going to help you see you’re just as important as those around you. Every one of you were wronged, and you each have committed crimes against each other. I won’t judge any of you. I’m going to help you realize just how incredible you are—how great you were always meant to be.
“You may not believe in fairy tales, or God—but they believe in you. They believe you are stronger than the monster your father wanted you to be. They believe you will have better than a happily ever after.”
Her breathing had become so fast it hurt. She’d never wanted to be the victim. Even screaming she was the victim was something she hated but envied all the same. Because victims got attention. They were the main characters everyone wanted to see happy and successful. She hated herself because she always knew—deep down—she wasn’t worthy of anyone’s sympathy.
“Are you listening?” He touched her hand, sending a delightful wave of tingles all the way to her soul. “You’re a victim, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You know why I have no problem telling you you’re a victim? It’s because the truth behind victims like you is that you survived horror.”
She stared at him, her eyes stinging as her throat ached. “I became the villain. Not a survivor.”
“No.” He held her hand between both of his. “When you let Maura hold your hand—when you truly woke up from the dream you put yourself in to protect your mind and soul, you became something else—not the villain. You went to your stepmother’s side, and you were so thankful she was alive. You said the single word she’d always wanted to hear from you, and you gave her peace.
“The villain—though you held his hand—did not win. Because you are here now. You’re trying to understand. You’re trying to be brave. You’re trying to be a sister—a daughter. It’s okay to be lost on how to cope and how to be great. That’s why you have guidance now. That’s why you read these letters.”
Kylie darted her eyes to the tear-stained letters. Janie bared her soul in all of them. She’d written to a girl who she wanted the chance to be—the girl who would have someone there to guide her. To tell her she wasn’t alone. Janie had felt so alone. She’d felt abandoned. She hadn’t believed she was worthy of Ryder’s love, of the friendship his brothers offered. She hadn’t been able to understand Logan’s abandonment. He’d known the baby was his, and he’d purposely hurt her.
Janie had been so in love with him. It was in every word she’d poured her heart into. She’d wanted them forever. And he turned his back on her, left her to Ryder. It was a miracle Ryder wasn’t as heartless to her as he was to everyone else. She’d been forced to live because Ryder refused to let her harm herself, refused to watch her give up.
Janie had done all this to save a girl she believed deserved more than she ever had. She exposed her soul—the good and bad—to save another from the darkness she had found herself in. Fate, if there was such a thing, existed in these letters. Because she’d made them for Kylie before they ever met.
She blinked back tears as the last letter caught her eye. She had jumped to that one before finally falling asleep, but the words written were unforgettable:
Dear Kylie,
Logan had a fight last week, and that means his excess of women reached its peak. It also means we fought before he drowned himself in women instead of being my best friend.
But that’s nothing new. What’s new is he met someone before his fight. She’s a girl from my school. I don’t know her that well, other than I know she watches Ryder and the boys too closely. She wears a hoodie, like I used to. I wonder if that’s what he first saw—me.
He lied to her about us. He lied to her about many things. I saw it, though—the moment she decided she didn’t want me in his life. When Ryder told her Logan was mine, that I was his—she decided I was scum. She has no idea how close he became to being the man I would marry—and she has no idea he’s the father of the baby I lost.
She said it was good I lost the baby. I can’t even express how hurt I was when she said that. Even if she thought it was Ryder’s—one was, and I still haven’t been able to cope with losing our baby, how could she say that to me? Either of their babies, they were mine, and I wanted them.
He likes her a lot though. So I can’t tell him how much it hurts me to listen to her judge me, to stare at her as I wonder what makes her better than me. I know she’s prettier than me—Logan always did like blondes. I see how he likes the differences in our looks. She’s everything untouched. He knows the ugliness hidden on my skin. Maybe that’s it. He knows I’m dirty, and she isn’t. And she doesn’t know what he’s capable of. Yes, I think that must be it.
I wonder if he’ll tell her about us. I wonder if he’ll tell her about our baby. It breaks me he still won’t even admit the baby was his. To see him still not acknowledge our baby is like experiencing losing it all over again.
I wonder if she’ll always hate me the way I see she already does. I wonder if she’ll make him happier than I did. I wonder if he’ll forget me.
I don’t want to be forgotten. I don’t want to lose my best friend. Only Logan knows how damaged I was before the rapes. Though he likes to forget it, he knows.
I feel like a coward for not telling Ryder what Logan and I have kept secret, but I don’t think I can bear him looking at me the way Logan did. I need to learn to trust Ryder completely, but it’s hard. He believes our stories more than me. I think he believes he’s saved me in this life, but he was too late. Always too late. How do I tell him that when he already hates himself for not stopping me from getting raped?
I’m torn. Despite my fear of her, I feel sorry for her. I get her jealousy. What girl can stand an ex? Is it wrong I wished I wasn’t loved just so I wouldn’t feel so hated by a single look from a girl I barely know? I should be used to this, but I’m not. Logan wants me to like her. He wants us both to like each other, and he doesn’t get it. I can’t explain to him that we are something special—that no girl in love with him can like me.
I don’t even know who I’m writing this letter to anymore. I used to write it to you, Kylie . . . the girl I tried so hard to protect and guide—the girl I loved more than myself. The girl who deserved to live without monsters eating her flesh. The girl who deserved everything I never had.
But you see, Kylie, the girl I’ve been writing to is the girl he met, and she didn’t greet me with a smile. She waited until I turned to attack.
Her name is Kylie.
She is you.
You knew I was raped. You knew I lost my baby. Granted, you didn’t know I was pregnant twice, and that one was Logan’s, but you knew all this when you judged me. Here in my family’s home, no less.
We took you in after I protected you. You aren’t even thankful. You barely cared about me being raped. You practically praised the death of my babies. Now you’ve forced him to tell you our secret.
I’ve never heard Logan so broken before. He’s still in the room with you—a room he’s made love to me in—against the door and on that very bed. He’s in there, and he’s telling you, a girl who hates me, who he doesn’t even know—exactly how to destroy me. And I know you’ll try.
He’s telling you how much it hurt him—he’s never told me. He’s telling you I saved them, and you’re yelling I’m a murderer.
Ryder’s kissing my tummy. He’s barely keeping himself from killing Logan and throwing you back to your family. He’s afraid. We don’t know you, but I know you’re not what you’re telling Logan. I don’t know why, but my soul wouldn’t tremble in the wake of your stare if you were an innocent girl.
I can’t tell Logan—he won’t believe me. And if my gut feeling is wrong—if that dark look you give me is simply jealousy and insecurity, it would be cruel to keep someone like Logan from you—to stop him from loving again.
I know he’s not my boyfriend, but I already feel it—you’re going to make him choose between us. I think he’ll choose you. He chose you just now. He put my fate in your hateful hands.
He’ll choose the pretty, untouched girl as he leaves behind his dirty past. Me.
This is the last letter I write to you. I’ll try to be nice, to smile when I know you’d rather I’d died all those years ago. And I’ll smile when Logan falls for it. He’d never love someone who hates me, but he’ll fall for you because Logan is always eager to embrace the lie.
So I’ll smile when he says goodbye, and I’ll weep when he turns away to follow you into darkness. You’re drowning in it. It’s all I saw when you came here tonight.
Farewell, Kylie. It turns out you’re not the girl I wanted to be. It turns out I’m me and nothing will change that. It turns out you don’t care how I tried to warn and protect you. You’d still see me burn. I guess this was always the case, though. I always was my own worst enemy. Because I fed you, kept you alive with the blood in my veins, the flesh on my bones.
I created the Big Bad Wolf, and she was there all along—pretending to be me.
I’ll watch you take him peacefully. But hurt him to the point he returns to me in pieces, and you’ll wish the fairy tales these boys read me were mere stories. Because the goddess sleeping inside me is not one to fuck with. I’ll destroy you if you break him.
From the girl you’ll forever hate,
The girl who smiles when she needs to cry,
The girl who dreams monsters can be saved,
The girl who greets Death with a smile and a kiss,
The girl he calls his Moon,
The girl who embraces that she is Queen.
I am the girl who truly wore the red hood;
I died in it and became something more.
I will do as my soul has done before,
I will roar over the remains of
the Big Bad Wolf.
~Janie Hasieran Mortaime
Kylie handed the letter to Gabriel. “What is she?”
Gabriel’s eyes shimmered as he read over the letter. “Exactly what she says. Prove her wrong about you. She wrote that when she was very much afraid, when he betrayed her—when she decided she was more than a broken girl. And in those quiet moments with Ryder in her arms, she embraced her destiny. So prove you won’t burn all she’s given you.”
“But she hasn’t given me anything.”
A secretive smile spread over his lips. “Yes, Kylie, she has.”
Fourteen
MY JANIE
Logan forced himself to swallow the gourmet coffee being served at Ryder’s home. Usually, he avoided the stuff, but sleep hadn’t come easy last night, so he would take anything to get him through the day.
He sighed, glancing at his phone. October 29th, a whole month since he’d last seen Kylie. A whole month of living at the Godson mansion. His fighting career was over, as far as he knew, so all he had to do was help with Janie. Well, not that she needed his help, but she welcomed it, and he’d started therapy with her.
Sometimes sessions were alone, but every other day he had at least thirty-minute sessions with her and Gabriel. He’d resisted talking about his feelings, but Janie was so open with hers, he was finally getting things out that he’d held back. It was good for both of them, and he welcomed the sessions before heading off to training with her and the boys.
Ryder didn’t like training her, but he urged Logan to be hard on her. Those were stressful days. He reminded her of everything with Trevor, and that’s what Ryder was doing. Making her face her fear while forcing him to battle his own demon.
Yesterday’s spar flittered into his thoughts, and he tightened his hand around his mug as her yell rang through his mind.
Logan had moved back, giving her a chance to get up. He hadn’t meant to hit her so hard, but she was being reckless. “Get up, baby doll.”
“Don’t call me that!” Her face twisted in pain as she reached for her mouthpiece.
Ryder and Luc came to the fence, not saying anything as they watched her crawl to her feet.
“I will call you that,” Logan fired back. “I’m not him. Stop thinking that.”
She looked him in the eyes, the gold fire flaring for a few seconds. “You didn’t believe me.”
The air rushed out of his lungs.
“Babe,” Ryder called from the gate. “Don’t do this now.”
She kept her fierce gaze on Logan, her lips trembling. “You’ve never believed me.”
Logan swallowed hard. He’d had an emotional session with her earlier, and she’d finally let out how hurt she was that he didn’t support her. From the sexual abuse from Trevor, to the baby, to him not being able to control his distractions. She knew it wasn’t her business how he dealt with not having her anymore, but he never had to throw it in her face. That’s what killed her. She knew he was doing it to hurt her, then he made her feel crazy when she’d call him out on it.
“If you had my back, he never would’ve gotten me,” she whimpered, her chest heaving from her harsh breathing. “She wouldn’t have found me if it wasn’t for you.”
“Babe.” Ryder gripped the chain-link fence. “That’s enough for today. Come here, baby girl.”
Luc spoke up, calling her by her name. “Stay where you are, Jane.”
She turned to Luc, holding his blank stare that always seemed to have some meaning to Janie, as it apparently did this time too. Her eyes glowed, and she sobbed, smiling before putting her mouthpiece back in her mouth.
Logan couldn’t fight with her anymore. She was emotional, and he didn’t like her thinking about Trevor, and about how he’d failed to protect and believe her. But it was the truth she kept buried deep down. She blamed him for many things, and she had every right to.
“Logan, get your head together,” Luc said, crossing his arms as others in the gym started coming to watch.
“I’m not doing this.” Logan walked past her, but she launched herself at him. “Stop!”
She didn’t. She rocked him with a solid punch to his chin. The crowd cheered as he stumbled, blocking her flurry of punches. She was angry, letting all her pain out.
He caught her wrist then twisted her arm behind her back. She screamed, thrashing instead of countering the attack.
Logan yanked her close, his rage consuming him as he hollered in her face, “You blame me? Then make me hurt. Don’t you fucking lose it because of me.”
She screamed, still struggling as tears streamed down her face.
He was shaking as he tightened his hold, knowing it was hurting her arm. “You win because you hate me, baby doll. You’ve always been stronger out of the two of us. Don’t you dare fall because of me. Now blame me. Take it out on me. Right now!”
Her tears never stopped, but she roared as the light in her eyes stunned him. He’d seen this before; in dreams.
He nodded, wrenching her arm harder. “That’s it. Bare those teeth, baby. Roar until the monster cowers from you.” They’d made a monster between them, and he was going to help her kill it right now.
Her tiny frame vibrated as a heartbreaking but powerful roar erupted out of her still bruised lips.
Logan grinned, though his eyes stung with tears to see her this way, and he lifted her then body slammed her onto the floor. She yelled louder, kicking his leg. It would’ve been his nuts, but he had moved in time, dropping on top of her, pinning her in the very same way Trevor had.<
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Her eyes widened in absolute fear as his hands closed around her healing throat.
“No!” She grabbed his wrists, flailing beneath him.
“Then stop me,” he shouted, grabbing her hand when she tried to scratch his eyes.
“Stop. Logan!” She was so afraid now.
He saw Ryder in his peripheral vision, and Savaş and Tercero holding him in place as Luc stayed calm.
“Stop me,” Logan roared, pressing down on her neck.
Tears coated her cheeks, but she took advantage of him moving to choke her. She hooked her hands around his wrists and raised her hips when he got off balance. Then she slammed her hips down with her arms, breaking his hold on her neck enough that she tucked her chin. She raised her hips before he could regain his hold, then quickly got one foot between them. She hollered, shoving his hip, never letting go of his wrists.