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I shook my head. “No. Ethan. Vic didn’t rape or stalk me. It wasn’t him.”
Ethan stepped toward me, towering over me from his six-foot-four height. “You want proof? Look under his bed. I guarantee it’s still there.”
My heart staggered when I heard Vic swear beneath his breath, and my knees nearly gave out. The cement block in my belly shifted, the nodules slicing open my insides.
I slowly turned to look at Vic. I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have looked at him. I should’ve just walked out and not faced my world blowing up before my eyes.
“Vic?” I choked on his name. When he didn’t say anything, I tore up the stairs as fast as my trembling legs could take me.
No one came after me. No one shouted for me to stop.
I fell to my knees on the hardwood floor, ignoring the shooting pain. I swung my arm back and forth under the bed while I crawled on my hands and knees—searching. Hoping. No, praying my fingers wouldn’t touch anything.
That nothing was there. It was all a mistake.
I’d almost circled around the entire bed when the tips of my fingers brushed something soft.
No. No. Please. No.
I didn’t feel the tears streaming down my face. I felt numb and cold as my fingers closed around the softness, and I dragged it out from under the bed.
I sat on my butt and stared at the Yoda plushy.
I couldn’t move.
I felt as if I was sitting in the front car of a rollercoaster, hearing the slow click as it climbed the hill. The fear of knowing that in moments the clicking would stop, and the cart would teeter over the top and plunge to the ground.
Cold tremors racked my body as I stared but wasn’t really seeing anymore.
I don’t know how long it was before I turned the Yoda doll over and looked at the tag. My stomach clenched and my heart dropped.
No. It couldn’t be true. I’d know. My body would know.
But why did Vic have my Yoda under his bed? I’d left it…. It was like a jolt of lightning tearing through my body. I staggered to my feet.
The boy.
I clutched Yoda in my fist as I stormed out of the bedroom and halfway down the stairs.
Neither of them had moved.
I glowered at Vic, then threw Yoda at him. He didn’t reach out to catch it, and it hit his chest and fell to the floor at his feet. “You were the boy. The boy in the police station.”
His jaw flexed. “Yes.”
A gasp wrenched from my constricted throat, and I grabbed the handrail before I fell down the rest of the stairs. Vic made a move toward me, and I quickly shot him a glare. “Don’t you dare.”
He stopped.
“Macayla—” Ethan began.
I cut him off. “No. I get to speak,” I shouted. My gaze flew back to Vic. “You stalked me?”
“Not exactly.”
It was like a spear through my chest. “You either did or didn’t.”
He inhaled a breath, his eyes locked on me. “You invited me to your sixth birthday. I was there.”
