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“I’d like to talk to you if you’re willing,” he said, making her eyes widen. No malice, no accusation in his tone, just resignation. He sounded broken, beaten down. Something she’d never heard from him. Being the cause of it made her ill.
“Um, sure, we can talk.” Least of what she owed him, though she dreaded saying the words. “Do you, uh, want to sit?”
With a curt nod, he returned to her small couch.
“I’m going to stand if that’s okay,” Shell said. There was too much nervous energy zinging through her bloodstream to be still. The fatigue of moments ago replaced by a rush of adrenalin at the sight of Copper. She needed to prowl. Plus, if she touched him, she’d lose it, and there was no way that small couch would allow distance.
“All right,” Copper said as he settled.
“What do you want to know? Or where should I start?” She sighed. “I guess you want to know about Beth.”
“Yes, among other things.”
The fact his voice was so calm helped to keep her from coming undone. Throughout the years she’d rehearsed how she’d one day tell him, and now all that planning flew out the window, and she could barely think. Shell paced back and forth in front of the couch, wringing her hands. “Bear with me,” she said. “I’ve only told this story one time before. There’s only one person who knows the whole truth aside from me.” She risked a glance at him and saw his raised eyebrows.
“Your mom?”
The snort that left her had him frowning. “No. Not my mother. My mother knows none of this.” Heat filled her cheeks. “My therapist.”
“Therapist?” His frown deepened.
How mortifying was this entire conversation? “I was a little messed up for a while after…everything, so I saw a therapist for a few years.”
“Shit.” Copper scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “So aside from some stranger you paid to help, you’ve dealt with this all alone?” It wasn’t an accusation, more a plea. She got the impression he was dying for her to contradict that statement. To tell him she’d had support and help through the most challenging years of her life.
She stopped and stared at him. “When you hear the story, you’ll understand why I kept it to myself.” She started pacing again. His gaze on her felt like a physical touch, staying with her each time she turned and traipsed across the room. “Oh God, this is hard,” she whispered, pressing her fists over her suddenly stinging eyes.
“Shell,” he said. “I’m not going to react like I did the other day. I promise.” His eyes relayed nothing but sincerity and openness.
She laughed but didn’t find his words remotely funny. “You haven’t heard what I have to say yet. Okay, I’m just going to do it.” After a deep breath, she began. “When I was sixteen years old, I snuck out of the house one night and rode my bike to the clubhouse. Then I followed you, Zach, Maverick, and Rusty into the woods.”
She could practically see Copper’s wheels turning as he rubbed his chin and tried to figure out times and dates.
“It was the night you killed Reaper.”
“Jesus,” he bit out. “You were there? Saw what happened?”
Shell swallowed and shuddered at the memory of the night that set the course of her life in motion. “Sort of. I hid behind a tree and peeked out a few times. Saw Reaper on his knees. Your back was to me, but I could see everyone else’s face.” Lost in the story now, she stopped pacing and let the words flow. “After you killed him, I glanced around the tree again and made eye contact with Rusty. He’d spotted me. Knew I was there. For months I avoided him and was waiting for him to rat me out. But when he never did, I eventually relaxed and just went about my life.”
“But…” Copper said.
“But when I was almost seventeen, Rusty showed up at my house one day. My mom was at work.” She remembered that day like it was yesterday. The unease at being alone with Rusty which morphed into fear, then horror at his demands. “He hates you, Copper. Always has. Maybe hate isn’t the right word, but he’s so jealous of who you are and what you’ve built for yourself that he wants to destroy you. He came on to me that day. Strong. Wasn’t the first time he made inappropriate comments, but he’d never touched me before. When I turned him down and threatened to tell you, he just smirked at me.” She shuddered. “I still see that smirk in my nightmares. He always smirked. Every time he…” Shaking her head, she stared at a spot on the wall above Copper’s head.
“What did he do?”
Her gaze shifted to him. His fists were clenched on his knees, shoulders bunched, and jaw tight. Though still bloodshot, his eyes were focused, determined. Anger was igniting. Before long, it’d be a raging inferno. “He showed me a video on his phone. It was you, killing Reaper. And it showed everything so clearly. I’d been there, so I knew it wasn’t doctored. You were the only one it showed. Clear as day. Your voice, your face, you killing him.” A note of hysteria snuck into her voice.
