Jake exhales hard, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I lost something so special to me, and it was all my own damned fault. So I did something. Something I could never take back. I can’t tell you what it was.”
“I didn’t ask.”
But I want to know. I want to know more than I’ve ever wanted anything. It’s kind of terrifying.
“Good. Don’t. Because I’ll take it with me to my grave.” He sits back down. “I don’t know where our mother is, Misty. She and I… We weren’t close. She was…”
“What? She was what?”
“She did the best she could, I guess. She was out of work a lot, and she… Well…we had to eat, so…”
“Oh my God…” I swallow against the lump in my throat. “My parents paid her. For me.”
He says nothing.
“You don’t have any reaction to that?”
“Do you think that surprises me? She sold her body. Of course she’d sell a baby. I’m surprised she didn’t sell me too.”
I stare at him, horrified—not just by the words, but by the way he says them. Flat. Numb. Like he’s had a lifetime to make peace with that kind of betrayal, and all it did was leave scar tissue.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He lifts his gaze. “Don’t be. You got out. You got a real life. That’s all that matters.”
“No, it’s not.” My voice shakes. “I grew up in a mansion with a silver spoon shoved down my throat, but I never felt like I belonged. My mother showed love with things, and my father…”
Was a psychopath.
Isa psychopath.
His abuse wasn’t loud, not always. It was the slow, surgical kind. Cutting me down with a smile. Tearing me apart, piece by piece, and calling it discipline. Telling me I was lucky. That no one else would ever love me the way he did. Twistingthe meaning of love until it became indistinguishable from abusive control.
It made me strong. No one can hold their breath like I can. I can survive. Adapt. But it also ruined me.
I don’t trust people. I test them. Push them. Hurt them before they get the chance to hurt me. I keep everyone at arm’s length and then hate them for not reaching farther. I always want to be the center of attention because when the spotlight is on me, no one’s looking close enough to see the cracks.
I’m beautiful, sure. Brilliant, sometimes. But I am so broken underneath.
And the worst part? I kind of like it. The edge. The mess. The danger. Tormenting people.
It keeps me alive.
Jake leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly they turn white. “I didn’t come here to dredge up the past. I can’t dredge up the past, Misty. It’ll eat me alive. But when River told me about you, I had to come. I had to know my only sister. I needed you to know that our mother wasn’t evil. Just misguided. That if she gave you away?—”
“Sold me,” I correct him.
“Yeah,” he says. “Sorry. She probably did it so I could eat. So I guess I owe you one.”
“I wonder if I’d be better off if I’d grown up with you.” I sigh.
“Are you kidding? You grew up in luxury. Things I could only dream about.”
“Yet all four of your friends are now better off than my parents ever were.”
“That’s Brett’s doing. Damn, he was always a fucking genius. I knew he’d make it to the top one day.”
“They’re all doing well.”
