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“I came home from school one day and I found John in my room. He was putting the shoebox back in my closet. I confronted him about stealing from me and he denied it even though I caught him red-handed. I threatened to go to my parents when they got home, and he freaked out on me. Pinned me against the wall with his hand around my throat. Threatened that if I told, he’d make my life a living hell. And just when I thought he was going to leave, he showed me what he meant by a living hell.”
The fire is back in Micah’s eyes as I take a deep breath, my breathing strangled from the memories of his hand squeezing my neck. My hands are starting to shake, no matter how hard I grip them together. I had the same reaction when I told Piper. It was like I was still pinned against that wall.
“He held me against the wall and shoved his hand down my pants,” I say, finally finding my voice. “I screamed for help, but no one was home except my brothers, and they didn’t hear me. It only lasted a few minutes, but there are times I can still feel his hands on me. Still hear him telling me how I was teasing him by wearing tight, little outfits. That I was asking for it. That I wanted him.”
“Did—”
“Hold on,” I state, putting up my hand even though it’s still shaking violently. Micah grabs it, lacing our fingers together, and waits for me to continue. “I told my parents. They didn’t believe me. Probably because I told them about him stealing from me first. He cleaned me out. Every penny. A few grand. They accused me of being a liar. My stepdad called me a slut. When I went to my school counselor, she didn’t take me seriously. She told me to talk to my parents. Again, I made the mistake of mentioning how it started, with the money, and I’m assuming she thought I was making things up.
“So, I was stuck. I did everything I could to avoid him until I moved out a year later. I wore baggy clothes to hide my body. Went to the library after school until it closed and then I locked myself in my room when I was home. My grades had always been good, but all the studying brought up my GPA and that’s how I was able to get the scholarship. A full ride. Everything is paid for. And if I keep my GPA high enough, I can apply for a continuation that will pay for my master’s degree …”
I let my voice trail off, giving him a moment to piece the bigger picture together. Because it’s not just about what happened to me. It’s about how it all shaped me into the person I am today. Why I need this scholarship. Why it’s so important for me to study as much as possible.
I’m not a natural genius like Piper. It takes hard work. Dedication. Perseverance.
And my driving force is to stay as far away from home as possible. Because if I fail, I have nowhere to go. I refuse to go back there again. To sleep in my tiny room even one night, memories of that afternoon on replay as I lay awake in bed.
Once. I went home once, and it was awful. I was terrified most of the time I was there even though John had moved out.
Micah gives my hand a squeeze, and when my eyes find his, they’re sparkling with pride. His smile is beaming at me, and I can’t help but be a little confused.
Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.
Piper broke down in tears. Cried with me for over an hour before paying an upperclassman to buy us a bottle of wine. We were drunk by midnight and searching everywhere for aspirin the next morning. Cheap wine is the worst.
“Why are you smiling at me?”
“Because you, Alexis Peterson, are badass. You’re strong. You don’t take shit from anyone. You stood up for yourself. You asked for help. And when no one believed you, you took control of your life. You put your head down, worked your ass off, and here you are. Making something of yourself.”
My heart swells in my chest. I was so afraid he wouldn’t want anything to do with me after I told him. That he’d see me as damaged goods because that’s how I feel sometimes.
“Do you have any idea how sexy it is to find a woman who can take care of herself?” he asks, tugging on my hand.
I slide between his legs and relax back against his chest.
“Someone who has goals and drive? Who doesn’t let anyone get in her way? It’s sexy as hell.”
“I’m happy you find me sexy,” I tease, wanting to lighten the mood. It’s not as heavy as it was ten minutes ago but I can still feel the lingering tension from my story.
“Good, because I find every part of you sexy. Your mind. Your body. Your heart. They all make you who you are. And as a whole person, you may just be the sexiest woman alive.”
Rolling my eyes, even though I know he can’t see me, I hold back the smile that’s vying to break free. Smiling feels wrong. There’s nothing happy about what I just told him. Nothing that should make my heart feel like it’s skipping a beat. Except it is. A few. And I can only conclude that it has something to do with the man whose arms are wrapped around me.
“In all seriousness,” Micah starts, clearing his throat, “what he did to you makes me want to cut his hands off, maybe his dick for good measure. And your parents... well, I really hope they take better care of your little brothers. But at the end of the day, as much as it kills me that you went through that, I can’t help but feel grateful that you did because it led you here. Not just to LSU, but to me. I know that sounds selfish, and it probably is, but that’s how I feel. Because if dickhead hadn’t done what he did, you probably wouldn’t be here right now and the thought of not knowing you, of not having you wrapped in my arms, breaks my heart a little.”
Mine, too, Micah.
Mine, too.
They say you have to get through all the bad shit in life to experience the good. Maybe Micah is my reward for surviving those last few years of high school. And if that’s the case, it makes me want to reap the rewards every chance I get. To erase the memories of John’s hands on me and replace them with the feel of Micah caressing every inch of my skin.
