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“We should probably talk about that.” He raised an eyebrow. “You know you can’t go around knocking your parents out just because you don’t agree with them, right?”
“He was hurting Aslan and not listening to me. I couldn’t stand by and let Aslan bleed for something he didn’t do.”
“Yes, well. I’ll be talking to your father about that too. Aslan is fully within his right to charge him with assault.” He licked his lips, taking his time before adding, “Aslan Avci...he’s lived with you guys for a while now, hasn’t he?”
My legs locked under the table. “Six years in a couple of months.”
“And...you’re sure he hasn’t touched you inappropriately in that time? Not once. Not a single moment where you’ve felt uncomfortable?”
My spine stiffened. “You’ve met Aslan a number of times, Detective Gratt—”
“Call me Wayne, just like you do when I pop round.”
“Do you think Aslan could touch me inappropriately...Wayne?” I asked quietly, watching his every move. “Do you truly think he’d be capable of hurting me?”
He contemplated my question like a good police officer before shaking his head. “In all honesty, no, I can’t see him hurting you. He’s always been very respectful and courteous. If what you say is true and he was merely trying to help you deal with what that bastard did, and if you’re in a consensual relationship like you mentioned, then...I accept he’s done nothing wrong.” Leaning over the table, his voice dropped to a quiet murmur. “I have to ask though. When did you two, eh...?”
“Sleep together?”
He cleared his throat with an awkward nod.
“Why?” I glared. “So you can charge him with underage sex? Are you going to say what my father did?”
“What did your father say?”
“That Aslan groomed me. Which is ridiculous. If anyone groomed someone, it was me grooming him. The poor guy endured years of me promising I’d marry him. Of dodging my kisses and keeping boundaries firmly in place between us.” Temper burned through my veins as I crossed my arms. “So if you’re thinking of investigating that angle, I suggest you don’t because we’re going to have a problem.”
Easy, Nee.
My goal was to stop the cops sniffing around Aslan, so he remained unseen directly beneath their bureaucratic noses. Not yell at high-ranking officials and cause suspicion.
“Just tell me how old you were the first time—”
“Seventeen,” I snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business. Sixteen is the consensual age, as you well know. He might have lived with my family for years, but he’s been nothing but dutiful and loyal. He broke no laws. Aslan is innocent on any and all charges you might conjure up.”
Apart from being illegal, that is.
He scowled. “I’m not trying to condemn an innocent man, Nerida. Just trying to get all the facts straight.”
“The only facts you need to know is...I’m in love with him. He’s in love with me. We met young, but we already know it’s forever. You can think that’s stupid fancy coming from a teenaged girl, but it’s the truth. I will stand by him. I will do whatever it takes to keep him safe. So—”
“Whatever it takes?” Wayne Gratt’s hazel eyes narrowed, slipping from family friend to detective.
Shit.
Sucking back my temper, I leaned forward and did my best to play the part I was supposed to. Meek and damaged, confused and young. “Please. All I’m saying is, it wasn’t Aslan. What my father saw in my bedroom was wanted and invited. The boy who raped me was Ethan. He used a condom and is friends with my...” I swallowed hard, forcing myself to finish. “My ex-best-friend Zara Lancet’s boyfriend. It’s all there in the report. Can I go home now?”
Holding my eyes for a moment longer, he sighed. “You can put your hackles down, you know. I accept what you’re saying. You don’t have to hit me around the head like you did your dad.”
I flinched with fresh guilt.
He smirked. “Sorry, bad joke.”
“I need to apologise to him. A-Are we done here?”
He nodded. “Sign your statement and you’re free.”
“And no one will go after Aslan?”
“Not tonight. Not unless he does something that warrants our attention.”
I hid my second wince.
Overstaying definitely warrants attention.
Snatching up the pen, I skimmed the typed-up piece of paper printed off from the tape recorder as I’d recounted everything Ethan had done. I’d held nothing back. I’d told Wayne everything, right from Ethan refusing to let me leave the party to drugging me with a mug of Coke and restraining me on Joel’s bed. I even mentioned how he’d let me go afterward with a pat on my butt and a promise to put in a good word with Zara, as if what we’d done was mutually shared and not straight-up rape.
I signed with a flourish, no longer hiding my bleeding pain. For the first time in a month, I had nothing to hide. No need to repeat a useless mantra that I’d be okay if I could just stop thinking about it. I’d spoken about it for the past two hours. I’d relived every moment, and I was still alive, still breathing, still functioning. In fact, I was functioning better than I had in weeks, all because I’d finally moved on.
