Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 94760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I felt Jace tense beneath me and his fingers stilled for a moment, but I continued. I wasn’t interested in dragging this whole thing out.
“Then I remembered the kid’s expression from that day in the bathroom and I decided to try it. I’ve never felt more in control than when I have that blade in my hand, Jace,” I admitted. “I know that sounds fucked up—”
“It doesn’t,” Jace interjected. “But you know it’s not real, right?”
I sighed because I did know that. “I know,” I murmured. “I don’t control it. It controls me.” I hesitated and said, “I’d still rather have the illusion, though.”
Jace sighed. “What happened to going to therapy? You told Eli you’d try.”
“I did,” I said softly. I pulled my fingers from Jace’s and let them rest on his chest. “Tell me how I was supposed to tell a complete stranger the truth, Jace. That not only did I let my father fuck me, but that I actually got jealous when he’d pretend I was someone else.”
Shame curled through me and I wasn’t surprised when Jace shifted us until we were both sitting upright. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. “Don’t you dare try to take any of what that man did to you on yourself.”
I willed myself to remain quiet, but giving voice to that particular secret was like punching a tiny hole in the dam that was holding back all the shit that was threatening to drown me. “I hated him so much, Jace.”
“Of course you did, Caleb. The things your father did to you—”
“Not him,” I whispered. “Eli.”
Jace stilled. “What do you mean?” he asked carefully.
“Sometimes when Dad and I were together and he’d be… he’d be behind me, he’d cover my head with a pillow and he’d say Eli’s name.” A sob got caught in my throat, but I forced it back. “The things he said… they were disgusting. Afterwards, he’d whisper things in my ear… things meant for Eli. It made me sick. But then things would go back to normal and he’d take me to a baseball game or fishing or whatever. And I’d think it wasn’t so bad – that it had all been worth it. After a while he’d start talking about how he wished Eli was around more and the whole thing would start all over again and I just…”
I shook my head and automatically reached for my arm and began digging my nails into my skin as I slid back from Jace. Why the hell had I said anything? And why couldn’t I stop talking?
“How was I supposed to tell the same therapist that Eli was seeing the truth – that I was jealous that that sick fuck liked Eli more than me? That it felt like he was cutting me open with a knife every time he fucked me and whispered Eli’s name instead of mine. Tell me what that doctor could have said to me to make the shit that goes through my head okay!”
I tried to escape the bed, but Jace caught me just as I was scooting off the edge of the raised platform. His arm went around my waist and he pulled me back against his chest.
“Don’t!” I shouted. “Don’t touch me!”
I ripped the Band-Aid off my arm and dug my fingers into the cuts. The pain helped, but it wasn’t enough to stem the agony that tore me open inside. Jace grabbed my wrist to stop me and pinned my arms at my sides. His arms were like iron bands around me that I had no hope of escaping.
“Shhh, just take deep breaths for me,” he whispered in my ear.
“No! Let me the fuck go, Jace!” I screamed, not caring who heard me at that point.
Jace ignored my demand and continued to murmur into my ear, but I was too far gone to hear anything. I was so angry that he’d asked me the question in the first place. I’d heard so many times from Eli and Mav and my stepmother that talking to someone would help, but it was all bullshit.
So I took my rage out on Jace. I ranted, I raved and I called him every name in the book, but those soft words never let up.
The ones reminding me to breathe.
And telling me it was okay to let go.
And promising he was there and he wasn’t going anywhere ever again.
That was harder to hear than anything else. That whispered vow was what kept me fighting, even when my body told me to give it up. By the time my muscles gave out, I could barely breathe. My throat hurt from screaming and crying and I couldn’t see because of the tears that continued to seep from my pained eyes. Snot was coming from my nose, but I didn’t care about that either.