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“He came from meager means. He speaks fondly of his mother, and hardly at all about his father, yet he’s the one who raised him after his mother died.”
She pursed her lips and tapped her chin. “So, based on the facts, the guy you’re dating has a shit ton of layers.”
“It would seem so.”
The first night I met him, he stepped in and protected me. I’ve also seen the look of sheer terror on his face. Heard him talk about Cal. Felt his control and experienced his brand of love making. There was a lot going on behind the face of Jack Powell
“I think that if you want to continue this relationship and have any kind of growth, you have to get to know each other on these different levels. So, now, after having gone through the facts, you have to decide what you want and what your limits are. What are the things you’re willing to concede on?”
“I want things with us to work.”
“But if he’s not being honest with you, and you aren’t being honest with him, you have to realize that could come back to bite you in the ass.”
“How am I not being honest?”
A look of pity laced her face. “Have you told him about Brock? What he did to you?”
“No,” I shot out quickly.
“Do you have any intention of telling him?”
I opened my mouth to reply, then shut it, because reality hit. “No,” I whispered. “Because it’s shaming. I don’t want to remember it. I’m trying to move past it.”
Harper nodded. “I know. Your past comes with demons I wouldn’t want to remember either. But you never know what demons line Jack’s closet. If you aren’t willing to share yours…”
“I can’t expect him to share his,” I finished.
I closed my eyes, because what I’d thought was a storm brewing between us, was turning into to a massive hurricane. There was a lot to think about. Like how to proceed with Jack. If I told him about Brock, would he look at me differently? Pity me? Think I’m tainted or damaged beyond repair?
Jack was the one man who looked at me and treated me like I was beyond some ruined little girl. And I didn’t want to lose that. But I wanted him. So much. In every way. Harper was right. It would have to be a give and take. Question was, what would I allow myself to give?
Chapter Sixteen
I pounded on Jack’s front door. It was just after eight o’clock and I’d only seen him a few hours ago, when he dropped me off, but this couldn’t wait.
“Lana?” he opened the door. He was still wearing his jeans and button-up. As if the idea of relaxing escaped him.
“I’m sorry for just showing up.” The whole half-hour drive to his place, I’d spent thinking about why what I was about to do was a bad idea. Yet, I still showed up.
“Are you okay?” he asked fiercely, like he may just go kick some ass if I asked him to. The notion made me happy. The truth was, no, I wasn’t okay.
“Can we talk for a second?”
He opened the door and led me in to the living room. “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”
“No, thank you,” I said, and paced in his living room, my fingers threading and unthreading. “I just need to talk to you.”
“Okay,” he stood tall and still and crossed his arms. Waiting. I, however, continued to pace in front of the fireplace like a fidgety wreck.
Deep breath.
“I…I want to tell you about something that happened to me.”
He lifted his chin, his brows gathering slightly with questions. If I didn’t get this out now, I never would.
Another deep breath…
“I was raped when I was thirteen.”
