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I held my hand in the air to stop her. “It doesn’t matter how much time passes.” I sidestepped across the wall, trying to get away from her—trying to get away from everything. “It doesn’t matter how much you want to pretend it didn’t happen.” I tapped the side of my head with two of my fingers. “My memories are burned inside my brain. Nothing I do ever gets them out.”
“Honey, please, I don’t want to talk—”
“You never do!” I slapped my hand against the wall, the vibrations shooting up my arm and making me grit my teeth. “You never want to talk about it! You never want to talk about anything!”
“Aria, that’s enough,” Sal’s deep voice gritted out, and I looked past Mom to see him standing in the living room. He’d tried to help me as much as he could after the fight at school, but none of that mattered in this moment. Nothing fuckin’ mattered anymore. “Don’t talk to your mom like that.”
I laughed, but the movement made tears fall from my eyes. Tears of pain no one cared about. “You think you can try and be my dad now, Sal?” I raised a brow. “You wanna treat me how he did, huh?”
“Aria, don’t,” Mom pleaded, and any other time, I’d have accepted her request and walked away, but something was urging me on. Something was telling me to air all the pain built up inside of me.
“What?” I flung my gaze to hers and pushed off the wall. My feet carried me to the entrance of the kitchen, and I held my arms up. “Have you not told him what he used to do to me?” Mom was silent, her eyes shined with unshed tears. “I was a kid. A fuckin’ kid.” I ground my teeth together. “But you were never there!”
“Aria,” Lola called from across the room, but I couldn’t see her. I couldn’t see anything but the blood staining the floor and walls.
“My first memory of my dad is him carrying me to the roof and making me balance on the edge.” A sob broke free, but the dam had been opened, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “He told me I’d die if I didn’t stay there for one hundred and seventy-four minutes. He stood there and counted them down.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the way the edge of the roof dug into the soles of my feet. I could still feel the rough surface of them, and all it made me want is to scrub it off my skin.
“Then there was the time with his gun.” I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat, but it was useless. “He made me take turns holding it to his head. What was it they called it? Russian roulette?” I opened my eyes, my gaze landing on Mom, who had tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t know it wasn’t loaded.” I tried to heave in a breath, but nothing would get through the blockage in my throat the memories were causing. “Where were you then, Mom?” My voice was small, but when she didn’t answer me, I shouted, “Where the hell were you?”
“Stop, Aria.” Someone touched my arm, and I darted away from them, feeling like my skin was burning from their touch. “Please, sweetheart,” Lola’s voice broke through. “Please stop crying.”
“Don’t you see?” I asked Mom. “It doesn’t matter how much time passes by. It doesn’t matter how much better your life becomes because I will never be the same. I’ll always have his memory etched into my mind, refusing to let go.”
“Baby,” a deep voice whispered from beside me, right before his hand landed on my wrist. His fingers connected with my skin, and for half a second, I forgot the amount of pain he’d caused. I forgot how he threw me away. I forgot that Cade walked out on me, just like he had.
“Don’t touch me,” I warned him, my voice low. “Don’t you ever touch me again.”
“Please,” he begged. “Please stop.”
“Stop what?” I screamed. “Stop telling the truth? Stop bleeding my pain out in front of you? You want me to hide it again, Cade? Huh?” I backed away until my back hit the counter. “That’s all anyone ever wants.” I looked down at my feet, my gaze tracking the edge of my boots and up the laces. “Everyone just wants me to pretend,” I whispered.
I pounded my fist on my chest and gritted my teeth from the shock of pain it sent through my ribs, but it didn’t matter. I was trying to push it back down, but it was impossible for it all to fit inside. I’d opened Pandora’s box, and I wasn’t sure how to put the lid back on.
“We don’t,
” Lola said from somewhere beside me. I could still feel Cade close by, his aura warming me and making me feel safe—safe from everyone and everything. “We don’t want you to pretend, sweetheart.”
“Honey,” Mom’s voice croaked, and I whipped my head up. Tears were still streaming down her face, and it was only then I noticed everyone else standing and watching. Uncle Brody was near the door, blocking the entrance to all his guys, but they were seeing it clearly. They were witnessing my meltdown. They were seeing the crazy running through my veins.
“It’s okay,” I told her, slamming the door to my emotions shut and welding it closed. “It’s okay.” I wasn’t sure whether I was trying to convince her or me, but the more I said it, the more I started to believe it.
I pushed off the counter, my legs shaky as I took a step forward. My heart raced, my pulse thrumming, but I tried to control it all. I tried to put a lid on it and act how they all expected. “Let’s go to the new house.”
“Okay, honey,” Mom whispered right away, as if she was afraid I’d change my mind.
“Are you serious?” Cade asked, his gruff voice cutting through everything else.
“Cade,” Lola warned, but I wasn’t sure what she was warning him about. It didn’t matter either way. I’d pushed it all down, and now I was Aria again. Or at least a version of her they wanted me to be. I’d flipped the switch just like that.
“No.” Cade’s footsteps came closer, and I felt him behind me rather than saw him. “You can’t push this down, Aria.” His hand drifted to my arm, and his fingers wrapped around the soft skin. “Don’t do this to please her. Feel it, baby. Let it all out. You can’t bury it.”
I turned my head and stared at him over my shoulder. “I can.” I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I’m full of secrets I’ll never tell.”
“I don’t give a shit.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he shuffled on the spot. “You can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” I asked, raising my brow. “I’m not doing anything.”
