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TWENTY
Laia
Icurl my feet under me and hug one of my new throw cushions to my chest, staring at absolutely nothing, trying to think of absolutely nothing. Definitely not about me stripping my clothes off even after he told me no. And a hundred percent not of how it ended.
He shouted. At me. Logic. I close my eyes and blow out a slow breath, trying to dislodge the unease—the little voice in my head telling me that deep down, they’re all the same—that all men have got it in them. Logic, Laia. One roar does not equal psycho. I broke something of his—something that obviously meant a lot to him. If that had been Damon…
Air leaves my lungs in a rush. If it had been Damon, he’d have broken something of mine. My teeth sink into the almost healed skin at the side of my thumbnail. Don’t think. Don’t remember. It does absolutely no good to remember.
Something bangs on the front door. My heart stutters, my back straightening, tummy clutching.
Fingers pressed against my lips, I glance at the door. Maybe it was just the wind. Seconds tick by. My breath gets stuck in my lungs.
The banging resumes.
I shake out the fear skirting down the back of my neck. Felix. God, it must be Felix.
My cheeks flame just thinking about opening the door to him. I flashed him my boobs. He stopped it. He shouted. I don’t know. I don’t think I can—
“Laia,” a muffled voice shouts through the letterbox. “Let me in. The girls have just left in the taxi, and it’s flipping dark out here.”
Kenzi. I snort despite myself and drag myself to my feet.
The deadbolt thuds open as I turn the key, and the door flies open, Kenzi barreling past me into the house.
“Fucking Jesus in hell, Laia. How can you live all the way out here? I had about fifty heart attacks just waiting for you to answer the fucking door.”
I shake my head, but a laugh escapes as I push the door shut and relock it. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to make sure you’re okay, like any good friend would do.” Kicking off her leather sandals, she weaves her way through to the living room, then plonks herself down onto the sofa. “Fee was going to come round.”
I glance toward the door. “Is he?”
“I suspected that would be your reaction, so I told him I’d check in on you.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.” She pats the sofa beside her. “Now sit.”
I don’t even try to stop my thumb from lifting to my lips, or my teeth from finding the little tag of skin by my nail again as I fold myself back down onto the sofa. “I don’t know what happened.”
“You’re both as bad as each other. That’s what happened. Felix is—he’s like my brother, and I love you, girl. But you guys need to figure this shit out.” She offers me a small smile, one of her shoulders lifting then dropping. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this wound up over anyone, and I adore you guys together, but not if you’re gonna keep hurting each other.”
I puff out my cheeks and cuddle the cushion to my chest again, blinking back the tears hovering on my eyelashes. She’s right. It’s not fair. None of this is fair. Something an awful lot like shame clunks down in my stomach. I’ve been using him with zero thought for his feelings. Just my own blind need to feel—or not feel—when I’m with him. “I should keep away from him.”
“What. Ever.” Her eyes roll but she squeezes my knee. “You’re not fooling anyone. You like him. That’s great. He likes you. Talk it the fuck out, people.”
I rub my forehead. “If only it were that simple.”
“Why can’t it be? I wish you’d tell me what’s going on with you, Laia. And I’m not just talking about the Fee thing. I’m talking about all of it. The no names on contracts, the jumping at your own shadow, this whole aversion to affection you’ve got going on?” She tries to take my hand, but I pull it away. Her bottom lip pouts out. “See? I’m your friend? and you won’t even hold my hand. Let me help you, Laia, please.”
I swipe at a hair that’s fallen over my forehead and take a deep breath, as tired of the lies and the half-truths and secrecy as she is of hearing them. Things I’ve never openly admitted to anyone are there, just waiting for me to be brave enough, to trust enough to let them out.
Kenzi just watches me, eyes wide, mascara slightly smudged, hair nowhere near as neatly tousled as it was when we left hers. She watches and waits. Just waits for me to burden her with the very worst parts of me.
My breath shudders its way into my lungs, the temptation to shut this down, to hide it all away again so overwhelming it makes my hands tremble. I shake my head.
“My ex…” I start before I can talk myself out of it. “He wasn’t good. But in the beginning, he was. He was funny and kind and just—perfect. I was completely dazzled by him.”
“Just like with Fee?” Kenzi’s fingers link through mine, pulling my hand from its death grip on the pillow and into her lap, refusing to let go even when I try to pull back.
“No. I mean yeah. I guess.” I shift uncomfortably, the memories I’m usually so careful to keep locked away fighting for space in my already jumbled mind.
“So, what happened? Did he cheat on you with your best friend? Because I can assure you that will not happen with Fee.”
“I wish.” I let out a miserable chuckle. “It started after my mom and dad passed. Just little things at first. Telling me who I could talk to, how to dress. Then gradually they got bigger, more controlling—he even called the culinary school I’d been accepted into behind my back and told them I’d be deferring so I could grieve.” I attempt a smile, but my chin’s already trembling. “Looking out for me, that’s what he called it in the beginning.”
“He hurt you.” It’s not a question, her eyes are already so full of sympathy, of pity, I can barely look at her.
“Yeah.” I scratch my forehead with trembling fingers and nod. “It was bad.” I release a shaky breath, unshed tears blurring my vision. “It was really bad.”
Mouth opening and closing, brows tilted up in the middle, she shakes her head, her fingers tightening around my hand when I try to pull it from her grip again. “Why didn’t you leave? Call the cops?”
“I don’t know.” I stare at my knees. “My parents were gone. I had no other family. He’d alienated all my friends. I didn’t have anyone.”
“God, I can’t even imagine.” She leans forward still clutching my hand in hers.
I nod, try to smile, but my blood has slowed in my veins, and my mind is caught somewhere between trying to keep the memories out and telling my story. “It gradually got worse. I’d never know what would set him off until one night I came home, and he’d decided that I’d been away too long.”
I close my eyes, helpless to stop my mind from going too far into the memories of that night. “He was drunk.” The remembered stench of alcohol on his breath is enough to make my stomach recoil. “He didn’t normally drink.”
My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek until I taste the metallic tang of blood, my nose buzzing. I pull my hand from Kenzi’s and wrap my arms around myself. The phantom pain in my ribs where his fist connected is so real, I can practically hear the crunch ringing in my ears, feel the inability to catch my breath ramming panic up my throat until I’m there again, curled on the stone floor while he dragged my head up by my hair and tried to shake me into breathing right.
I blink myself back and clear my throat, meeting Kenzi’s worried stare. “He beat me so badly, he left himself with no choice but to call an ambulance.”
“Laia, I’m so sorry, I had no idea.” She presses her fingers to her mouth, like she’s trying not to cry. “How did you get away from him?”
“A nurse recognized my injuries. Noticed some other badly healed fractures on my x-rays. Told me she could get me to a Women’s Aid shelter.” My lips curve up. “She saved my life.”
“Fuck.” Kenzi holds my stare as she opens her arms to pull me to her. “I’m going to hug you now.”
I flinch violently. She either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. She just holds me tighter. And to my complete amazement, I let her.
