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He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her with care. Her lips parted and he took his time to savor every inch of her mouth.
She hummed and pulled him in closer, running her hands down his back to his ass. Finn’s cock responded immediately. This wasn’t right. She’d been deeply frightened, and it wasn’t just the storm. There must be something else underlying her fear.
He pulled away and lifted her to sit upright again.
“What’s the matter?”
“First, you need to eat. Next, we have to talk,” he said, handing her a fork, followed by a kiss on her cheek.
CHAPTER 32
COLLEEN
After eating, Colleen and Finn curled up on the couch together. Not wanting to be left out, Alfie made himself comfortable in Colleen’s lap. The three of them sat in companionable silence while the room flickered with light from the fire and candles. The tension in her body relaxed as Finn held her close to him.
He kissed the top of her head and said into her hair, “Do you want to talk about the storm?”
She held onto him and wished her fear of storms was only related to thunder and lightning. It was much deeper than that. Telling this story was like climbing the ladder to the high dive, her heart pounding with every step closer to the top. She would be lightheaded, staring down at the water before taking that final jump into the water below.
She’d told Lucy the basic story, but Colleen had never shared the details of her story with anyone but her therapist. She trusted Finn, but she was concerned things would change between them once he learned the truth about her past.
She peeked up at him. His face was contemplative. He gave her an encouraging smile, easing her anxiety.
Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “I was seven years old. It was a Saturday night and my parents had some neighbors over for dinner. Everyone talked about a big storm coming. By nighttime, it was pouring, and the heavy winds had picked up. Ryan and Aidan were toddlers, so they were already in bed. I watched TV while Sean was busy with his Game Boy. There was a lot of drinking and laughter in the kitchen.” She cringed, recalling the irritating, high-pitched laughter of their next-door neighbor.
“The power went out and my dad was in the garage to get a flashlight while my mom looked for candles. Sean never stopped playing his game, but I found my way into the kitchen to be with my parents. I wanted my mom to hold me, but she was busy searching through cabinets.” She paused to remember the depth of rejection she experienced. “She told me to be a big girl and stop being so clingy.”
“Your mom said that? That’s not like her.”
“She was having a tough time then. I knew what had happened, but she never mentioned it. I worried about her because she cried all the time. She went to church a lot in those days, came home, and cried some more.” Her mom had been completely unavailable. She cried, stayed in bed, and distanced herself from her children.
“What happened?”
“She was pregnant again but had a miscarriage.”
“I didn’t know that happened,” he said, holding her tighter.
“I’m sure your mom knows, but my parents never talked about it. I worked hard at school and did everything I could to make life easier for her.” She remembered helping her father do the chores around the house: folding laundry, loading the dishwasher, and even keeping an eye on her twin brothers. But none of it made a difference, she thought with a heavy heart. “I convinced myself that if I was a good girl, she wouldn’t be so sad. But because of her depression, she pulled away from us.” She hadn’t understood the depth of her mother’s loss. How could she? Colleen was only a child. The resentment and anger she felt toward her mom at that time was one of the things Colleen struggled with the most.
“I’m so sorry.” He ran his hand up and down her arm.
“Anyway, one of the neighbors complained there was no music. Mr. Pike—do you remember him?”
“He lived next-door, right?”
“Yeah,” she said, recalling Mr. Pike’s leering grin. “Mr. Pike offered to bring his boombox over and everyone thought it was a great idea. There had been a lot of drinking in those days. My father was always up for a party, but my mom usually didn’t drink that much. But for a few months, especially during this time, she did.”
“Mr. Pike said I could come with him to help find the boombox. It was stupid, really, because he could have done it by himself. My mom told me to go with him. I tried to tell her I didn’t want to because I was afraid. She snapped at me and said to do what I was told. I think she just wanted me to stop bothering her for a bit. I didn’t know how to explain to her how uncomfortable I felt the way he looked at me sometimes.” Her body tensed with the painful memory of her mother’s rejection. If her mother hadn’t sent her away, maybe Mr. Pike wouldn’t have hurt her.
“Mr. Pike wasn’t married, but he liked kids. He was great with the twins and used to babysit us sometimes. My parents trusted him. He was always nice to me. He told me I was pretty and brought me little gifts from time to time. In a big family, it’s easy to get lost in the shuffle. Mr. Pike filled that void for me, especially when my parents were so distracted.”
He kissed her head and said, “Go on.”
Colleen lifted her eyes to his, which glowed with compassion. She believed she could trust him with the truth, and with her heart. She took a leap of faith and continued her story.
“Mr. Pike held my hand when we left my house. I was terrified. As we walked to his house, we got caught in a downpour. I was soaked by the time we got inside. He told me to stand still while he went to get a towel. He wouldn’t let me dry myself. He rubbed my face with the towel that was so rough, it felt like sandpaper. It smelled different from our towels.” As Colleen talked, the sweet scent of lavender filled her senses again, her stomach churning at the memory.
“He told me he had to pull down my pants, and I let him. I don’t know why, but I did.” For years, she’d blamed herself for cooperating. She should have pushed him away or yelled at him. Even now, telling the story, guilt wound its way through her like a serpent, pulling tight around her and taunting her that she should have done more. There was no logical explanation for complying, other than she wanted to be a good girl and good girls do what they’re told.
