Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
“You know he adores us,” I hissed. “To doubt his integrity and devotion to our family is just plain wrong, Mum.”
“But he hurt you—”
“No. He didn’t. If everyone had stopped for a damn fucking second and listened to me, you’d see the truth instead of making up lies.”
Her lips thinned. “Nerida, you’re in shock and—”
“It was me,” I snapped. “I hit Dad when he went to hurt Aslan again.”
Everyone froze.
The two police officers glowered at me with matching condemning stares. “I think you better explain.”
For a moment, I stared at the four people in my ramshackle bedroom. My mosquito net, that I’d yanked from the ceiling by accident when Aslan had tackled me, lay bunched by the end of the bed. Pillows were strewn all over the floor, and my rumpled blankets shared a tale of despair. It painted a scene of a man forcing me down and touching me against my will.
I understood why my dad had jumped to conclusions. I could see why the police had condemned Aslan before they’d even talked to him.
But what they didn’t know was why.
Why Aslan had ‘attacked’ me. Why he’d put his entire life on the line to save mine. Why he’d done whatever he could to take me back to that awful night.
I couldn’t stop thinking about it, despite all my promises to forget.
Aslan had made me hurt him.
He’d willingly worn the pain I needed to inflict.
He’d shown me that I wasn’t helpless or weak, and I’d let him, even though every intuitive nudge had screeched not to do this. Not to be so stupid. So reckless. Not to play with such dangerous fire when my parents were just down the corridor.
I’d tried to stop him.
I’d snapped and fought him—fiercely and genuinely—trying to snap him out of his drunken stupidity. But the longer we battled, the more I lost myself to memories of Ethan touching me, not Aslan. Of a stranger pinning me down, tying me up, and entering me against my will.
I forgot where we were.
I forgot who I fought.
I let all my unresolved trauma and repressed pain blind me, and the war between us became far, far too real.
But then we’d crashed to the floor.
Aslan had sprawled amongst the fallen pillows, tonguing the blood I’d drawn on his lips, wincing at the pain I’d delivered between his legs, and...something happened.
Something snapped free inside me.
The drowning darkness that’d steadily been smothering me these past few weeks cracked.
Just a sliver.
Just a splinter.
But it was a crack full of me.
The girl I’d forgotten. The girl full of power and tenacity.
A girl who’d let a monster do his best to smother her light all while the son of a true monster struck a match and relit that flame inside her.
I shivered with strength.
I felt reborn.
I’d pounced on Aslan in gratefulness.
I’d been the one to beg him to fuck me, right there, without a thought to the consequences. I’d needed him with desire bordering on violent.
He’d tried to stop me.
I’d argued and cajoled.
And because he lived and breathed to keep me safe and happy, doing whatever it took to deliver what I asked, he didn’t say no again.
In one colossal mistake, we’d grabbed our fragile future and torn it into smithereens.
No.
Just no.
I wouldn’t let him wear the blame on this. I wouldn’t let my parents hate and judge him when he’d been nothing but good and kind.
Fuck that.
Fuck Ethan.
Fuck fate.
Aslan wasn’t going to be deported and killed because of me.
No way.
Sucking in a breath, choking on words I never wanted to utter, I glowered at my mother and said, “The night I went to Zara’s to patch up our friendship, I was drugged and restrained. I was raped in a house full of people, and no one heard me screaming because the music was so deafening.”
Mum froze beside my unconscious dad.
I had front-row seats to the shattering devastation in her stare. For the longest time, she couldn’t speak. She choked on a sob, her face blanching white. But then she found her tongue and so many awful tears. “Oh, Neri...baby. No.” Scrambling to her feet, she charged me and wrapped me in the tightest embrace.
A groan came from the carpet as my dad rallied. Sirens once again echoed in the thickening twilight, either police hunting Aslan as he ran or the ambulance here to help my father.
I struggled in my mum’s arms, my thoughts fleeing through the streets with Aslan. Was he hiding? Could I prevent them from deporting him if they caught him?
I have to stop this.
Now.
Squirming in her hold, I stepped back. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. How the hell could you be fine?” Mum cupped my cheeks with shaking hands. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I didn’t want you to know.”
“But, Neri—”
“Aslan knew.” I pulled her hands away and embraced a fresh wave of anger. “He knew. He’s the only one who knew. He was trying to help me, Mum. It was stupid and looks far worse than it is, but he’s never ever hurt me. Never done anything against my will.” Stepping away from her, I braced my spine and became the hurricane that my father had always likened me too.