Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“You are.”
She threads her fingers through mine as she seems to gather her thoughts, and I’m reminded that I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than this woman. Even when she’s vulnerable and a bit of a mess, she’s absolutely gorgeous.
“I told you before, I was a foster kid all through my teenage years.”
Here we go. The hard stuff. Maybe she needed to hear that I loved her before she felt brave enough to confide in me with the hardest pieces of her life.
“Yes, you did.”
“I would say that my experience was very similar to Jake’s. Abusive. Mean. Pretty fucked-up.”
I clench my jaw, and she reaches up to cup my face in her soft hand.
“I know it’s hard for you to hear this, so if you’d rather not—”
“I’m fine, baby. You can tell me. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to commit homicide, but you can tell me.”
Her lips twitch at that. “I was first raped when I was fourteen.”
“Jesus.” I want to stand and pace. I want to punch the goddamn wall. But I don’t because she needs me with her, and from here on out, Abbi will get anything and everything she needs or wants in this life.
I’ll make sure of it.
“I never told anyone because it was drilled into me that no one cared. I didn’t matter. No one missed me, and no one would check on me. And, for the most part, they were right. I was where I was because there was no one else in the world that wanted me. So, I was used and hurt and beaten. Often. I did get pulled out of one house because a teacher noticed that I had a bruise around my neck, and I really think that if I’d stayed there, I would have died.”
“Christ.” I can’t help it. I lean forward and rest my face in my hands.
“I learned to be small. To not get noticed. To keep things clean, eat what was on my plate, and stay in my room. Don’t make a fuss. Don’t get sick. I tried so hard not to get sick because I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone by having to go to the doctor.”
I want to kill them. All of them.
“It got a little easier in high school because I could join clubs and volunteer for things, so I wasn’t home as much. I had two different homes in high school, and both were close to the school, so I could walk back and forth, kind of come and go. So, by the time I was seventeen, the worst of it was over. By then it was just neglect. They let me live there in exchange for the money the state paid them. But the damage was done.
“When I turned eighteen, I left. On my birthday.”
My head snaps up. “Where the hell did you go?”
“Nate snuck me enough money to pay for a tiny studio apartment and food and utilities, and I started to work. I’d already had a job at a fast-food place in the summers, but my foster parents always took my paychecks. Claimed it was for the luxury of living there. If I didn’t turn it over, they beat me, so really I was just paying to not get my ass whooped every week.”
She shrugs, as if to say oh well, and all I can do is watch her.
“I discovered that I was a pretty good waitress, and I got good tips. I also got a night job as a cleaner for businesses. Offices and stuff like that. I really liked that job, and Mrs. Pitkin was super nice. She always slipped me an extra twenty bucks here or there because she knew I was saving up for a car.”
I’d like to send Mrs. Pitkin a hundred thousand dollars and kiss her on the mouth.
“If it wasn’t for Nate and Mrs. Pitkin, I honestly don’t know what would have happened to me.” Her voice has quieted again. “I know that sounds dramatic, but it’s true. I’ve never been one to try drugs, but I can see why people do. Because for those few minutes or hours, you can forget how fucked-up your life is. You can just escape it all. That small amount of help from those two wasn’t so small to me, and it gave me the edge I needed to try to make something of myself. Then, Nate and I got pregnant, and like I told you before, he wanted to marry me. Wanted to do the right thing. He didn’t care that I’d been used and hurt or that I came from absolutely nothing. He just liked me. He loved me. We were kindred spirits and got along so well. We had a lot in common. His mom, however, hated me.”
She frowns down at her fingers and then shrugs again.