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“I said no, Carrie,” I grit before she reveals too much.
Who will help Dorthea and Ricardo if we go? She knows how important that home is to me. She’s seen firsthand what I’m trying to do for them, and I’d rather die a slow, agonizing death than ever abandon those kids.
Plus, if I go home now, I’ll be forced to expose my lies to our parents, relive the shame of last night–all while staring into faces full of disappointment–and continue living in her perfectly constructed shadow for the rest of my miserable life.
No thanks.
She pinches the bridge of her nose. “I knew you’d be difficult about this.”
“I’m not being difficult. You think you know what I need when what I really need is for you to stop being so overbearing.”
“Pen,” Logan starts, but I cut him off.
“And you. Agreement or not, this is one decision you will not make for me.” My chest tightens as angry tears threaten. “I can take care of myself.”
Carrie releases me to stand. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you have to.”
“I’ve gotten along the last thirty years just fine. I think I’ll manage.” Her lips quiver, but for once, there’s no apology trying to force its way from my mouth, and it feels empowering.
“If you say anything to Dad, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Penelope.”
“Ever.” I hold her stare, refusing to back down. The silence in the room is deafening.
“All right. Have it your way.” She nods before turning for the door, and when she reaches the threshold, she murmurs to Logan, “I’ll be back later.”
Logan pushes off the wall, crossing the room with purposeful strides.
“I can’t believe you’d agree with her,” I say, staring in disbelief as he takes a seat on the edge of the bed. “Where’s the loyalty?”
Resting his elbows on his knees, he steeples his fingers in front of his lips and inhales deeply.
“Last night was one of the most terrifying nights of my life.” His tone is even, his face unyielding to any emotion, aside from near palpable rage. “When I saw you on the ground… When I saw what he’d done to you, Penelope… I thought I was too late—and I wasn’t the only one.”
He swings his tormented gaze to mine, and I swallow, nostrils flaring as tears burn the back of my throat. I hate that he sees right through me. Hate even more that he’s the only one who ever has.
“Carrie was beside herself all night. And yeah, after listening to you moan and cry in your sleep, I thought maybe she was right. Because I didn’t protect you when I knew something was off. You were hurt because I let my ego cloud my judgment, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to forgive myself for that.”
That painful knot thickening my throat continues to grow. “But you guys are trying to take the blame for something that’s entirely my fault.”
“You were attacked.”
“No, I know. It’s just—” I look toward the ceiling, at a loss. “If I hadn’t been so trusting. Maybe if I’d read his body language better, things would have been different.”
His shoulders droop when my voice cracks. “And your clothing, right? All that revealing leather, showing off your beautiful body. Will you blame that next?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah…” He nods at the floor in thought. “And the way you danced, too. Flaunting those tempting curves of yours the way you had.”
My lips tremble, and there’s nowhere for me to run, nowhere to hide when one damning tear finally escapes.
“No, Penelope,” he murmurs, tenderly sweeping his thumb across my cheek. “None of those things give a person the right to access your body without permission.”
“I should’ve fought harder. I gave him so many chances to stop.” I roll the sheets between my fingers, shaking my head. “Am I so afraid of inconveniencing others that I’d rather risk being hurt than stand up for myself?”
A slow shake of his head. “He was someone you trusted. It’s difficult to believe he was capable of doing that to you.” Sliding a little closer, he adds, “What happened last night was not your fault. Koa made his choice, and he acted on it. You’re giving yourself too much credit to have any control over that.”
