Page 11 of Savagely Scarred

“Will!”

“No. Not again,” I cry out.

“Look at me!”

Liv comes into focus, my eyes adjusting. She’s straddling me and holding my wrists hostage. She lets them go and gently touches my cheeks. Relief fills me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her down onto my heaving chest.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper into her hair.

“I wish you would talk to me,” she murmurs.

I swallow hard and rub her back. “It’s not the videos. I promise.”

I know where her mind goes. She thinks I started having nightmares again about when she was kidnapped. When I watched her being raped repeatedly.

That. Was. Agony.

My subconscious loved to torment me at night for the first few months afterwards. Especially since they never found his body. I don’t think I would get another chance to save her if he came for her again. And that terrifies me beyond reason.

As the months went by, the nightmares slowly dwindled until they eventually blinked out of existence. We were finally free.

But now my past has come back to haunt me as my least favorite anniversary is coming up. I have been through this every year since I was eight. It’s been twenty-five years, and I still haven’t let go of the guilt.

Liv shifts, crossing her arms across my chest and resting her chin on top. I mindlessly play with her hair, twirling it around my finger.

“Will you come with me to visit my parents?”

“Of course.”

I roll us over onto our sides and pull her into me, wrapping my leg around her body. She sighs into my chest. Not one of content, but of defeat. I am not giving her any answers, and I know I’m an asshole for that.

I’m just not ready to confess my sins.

Sleep eluded me for hours afterwards. When I eventually decided it was hopeless and I should just get up, Liv still clung to me like a koala. I had to peel her off me and slowly slide out of bed. She looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake her.

After getting dressed in jeans and a band shirt, I make my way downstairs into the kitchen.

Caffeine. I need all the caffeine.

The caramel aroma of the coffee fills the room when my phone starts ringing. I glance down at it sitting on the counter.

Mom.

Impeccable timing as always. I answer it and put her on speaker.

“Hey, Mom,” I greet, while grabbing the creamer from the fridge and pour it into my coffee.

“Hey, sweetie. I’m just calling to see how you are doing.”

“I’m fine,” I lie.

“Will, cut the bullshit.”

I sigh heavily, setting down the creamer and grab the edge of the counter with both hands.

“Mom—,”

“Ya know lying is a sin. And to lie to your mother.” She clicks her tongue in disappointment. “I raised you better than that. Yer going to drive me straight into an early grave.”