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I grabbed an old wooden chair that sat out of place near the couch and dragged it across the floor until it was in front of her. Sitting down, I hung my over the backrest. She glared at me.
I guess not. The pure hatred in her eyes stabbed right into my soul. My heart pounded. I so badly wanted to kiss her, and show her how much she meant to me. She was the only girl I'd ever fucking loved. She had to know that.
If I lost her . . . No, I couldn't even think about that night now.
“Are you ready to untie me?” she asked, ignoring my question. “I'm not a dog, Mace, so I don't deserve to be treated like one. I can't believe you fucking gagged me. I mean, what the hell?" Her voice rose as she struggled in her chair, her cheeks flushed red with anger.
"You're surprised I gagged you?" I couldn't help it—I laughed. "You were fucking screaming your ass off. Of course I was going to gag you.”
I reached forward and loosened the ties on her wrists. She freed them, and violently began loosening the ropes around her. She stood up and stalked around the room. Her fingers roamed her long, dark hair and her expression gave away nothing as to what she was feeling—except for how pissed she was. That she’d made very clear.
“Leet, please. Please listen to me.” I swallowed hard. My mouth was so dry it felt like it was made of sandpaper.
“Then talk. If you want me to listen to you, then fucking talk,” she yelled. “Tell me something worth hearing, or I swear to God, the second you give me the chance, I’m gone.” Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. I was this close to losing her forever.
“For fuck’s sake.” I stood up and grabbed her roughly by the arm, dragging her back over to the couch. “You’re going to sit the fuck down and listen to me.” I was done being nice. Time was running out, and I needed to step things up a notch.
“Firstly, I'm sorry I kidnapped you. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do. If you want to leave after what I tell you, then fine, but you are going to fucking listen to me.” I sat back and waited for her to respond.
She eyed me suspiciously, like she didn't quite believe that I would just let her leave like that. Honestly, I had no idea if I would. I hoped it wouldn't come to that. I hoped that once she heard me out, she would calm the fuck down.
I breathed out heavily. “I told you about Anna, and what happened to her.” I sighed and rubbed my forehead. Talking about Anna resurfaced all those feelings of guilt I’d managed to push down. “Before she died, she did some digging, and she found out some things. She wasn't just raped, Leets. She was hunted down and sold to the highest bidder."
"What . . . what are you talking about?" Leeta shook her head, confused.
“Just after she started university, she began hanging out with a group of girls that would spend every night out drinking and picking up guys. In high school, she was quiet. This was the complete opposite.” I took a deep breath, trying to force my thoughts to stay on track.
“I shrugged it off as her just having some fun, you know? She was my little sister, and I looked out for her, but she was nineteen and in her first year at university.”
“Mace,” Leeta said softly, “You can’t blame yourself for this.”
“She started to change. She was getting into drugs, different guys rocking up for her every night. I didn’t think . . . It never occurred to me that there might have been a reason for her change in behaviour.”
“How could you have known, Mace? She was a teenage girl. They’re impossible to understand at the best of times. Trust me. I’ve been there.”
“I should’ve done something, Leets,” I said, frustrated. “I should’ve intervened. If she had been focusing on her studies instead of getting wasted every night in the first place, then this wouldn’t have happened.”
“She was a kid being a kid. You can’t blame yourself, but you can’t blame her, either,” Leeta said.
“Then who the fuck do I blame?” I growled, spitting out the words. There was so much anger and confusion inside me, I had to direct it somewhere.
I looked up, surprised as Leeta’s hand slid into mine. This was her reaching out. It was a peace offering, an olive branch. I took her gesture and forced myself to continue. If she was willing to hear me out, then I had to talk.
“About a week, maybe less, after she killed herself, I got a package from her. There was a letter. Her way of saying sorry, I guess. She explained everything that had happened. The rape . . . what she could remember, anyway.”
“What happened?”
“She was taken from a bar after someone spiked her drink.” I leaned forward and ran my fingers through my hair. Fuck, I feel sick. Just thinking about what she’d gone through those few days made the anger boil inside me.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t talk to Leeta about it. I could barely handle even thinking about what had happened to Anna.
Standing up, I kicked the chair back, sending it flying across the floor. I cupped my hands behind my head and began to pace.
Fuck. This isn’t good. Shit, shit.
Leeta stood up. She walked over and grabbed hold of my forearms. She dragged them down to her waist, the feel of my hands against her body calming me instantly.
“Talk to me. Make me understand. Give me a reason not to walk out that door the first chance I get. Please.” She stared into my eyes as though she were searching for any sign of hope, begging me to give her something.
