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Gage: Cameras are everywhere. But if you need privacy, the rooftop deck doesn’t have audio. Be good.
Everywhere? Holy shit!
Me: Wait, what? Are they in my room?
I stare at the phone expectantly. I’m mildly irritated at the idea of being spied on but mostly I’m intrigued. What the fuck is wrong with me? I should be raging! Breaking shit and running far away from these assholes. They’ve been watching me without my permission or at least informing me about the damn cameras.
Oh my god! I’ve been naked in my room. Frequently! My face flashes with heat at the thought.
Why is it that right now, all I can think about is kicking everyone out and running down to my room to give the guys a show? I mean, if they are going to watch me, they might as well see something entertaining.
Holy fuck. Who am I right now?
I look down at my phone again, seeing that Gage read my text but didn’t respond. That’s all the confirmation I need. Turning around, I look at my friends and smirk.
“We need pizza and tequila. Then, I’m going to show you something that will blow your fucking mind!”
“You’re so right. This is the best pizza in the city,” Olivia mumbles around her slice of Hawaiian.
“And this is the best viewofthe city. Jesus wept, how rich are these dudes?” Gianna adds as she takes in the view from the rooftop deck. We’re spread out on the lounge chairs by the pool with margaritas and Fred’s Pizza. I shrug, piling another slice onto my plate as I curl up next to Hunter.
“So what’s up? Are you going to tell us what’s been going on?” Olivia asks.
I feel Hunter stiffen next to me and I hesitate in telling the girls the story. He’s been unusually quiet since he got here tonight and I don’t want to rehash the Drew crap but I have to for the girls. They know something happened with Drew and they’ve been blowing up my phone wanting details because they are scared for me. I repeatedly assured them that I’m okay and that I would tell them in person. I pushed them off as long as possible, wanting most of my injuries to be healed before we got together.
For the most part, my visible bumps and bruises are gone. What’s left is easily covered up with makeup. My ribs and the cuts to my arms and chest are scabbed over now. I’m wearing one of the sweaters the guys got me so the girls haven’t seen the wounds and they won’t if I have anything to say about it.
I set my pizza down, swapping it out for the marg and taking a healthy drink. Here goes nothing.
Circles-Ludovico/Greta Svabo Bach
“Drew attacked me at my house two weeks ago. The night the guys took me out. Drew was waiting for me in my bedroom and well, things got really bad. He took off and the next morning, the guys found me and brought me here to their doctor. They’ve been wonderful and they want me to stay here until they can find Drew and make sure I’m safe.” It all comes out like one long-winded sentence and I inhale deeply, getting in some much-needed air.
I look up and see Olivia and Gianna, both with their mouths hanging open. Hunter has his head in his hands and his body has gone rigid. It only takes less than thirty seconds before Gianna is up and ranting, arms flailing about and her beautiful Italian accent is making an appearance. I let her have her outburst, knowing she’s not actually talking to any of us yet. Olivia is on the other end of the reaction spectrum. She’s crying. And while I feel bad for her tears, I expected them.
The three of us girls are polar opposites on the emotions scale. Gianna blows up and gets angry, plotting vengeance almost immediately. My sweet, sweet Olivia cries over everything, and I do meaneverything. Cute puppy? Tears. Angry customer? Tears. Good sex? Tears. And me? Well, I’m somewhere in the middle withblank.
My gut reaction to any emotionally extreme situation is generally to go dark, numb, and empty. I shut down and my brain literally ceases to exist. I believe it’s self-preservation. Nothing can touch me or affect me when I’m in my blank space. That’s how it’s always been, until recently.
These men are obliterating that inherent reflex of mine, whether they mean to or not. Slowly, yet surely, they are breaking down the barriers I put up a long time ago.
I resurrected them, like walls made of glass, meant to be looked through like a window. You can see inside, but you can’t touch. When your walls are made of glass, no one knows they exist. On the outside, you look and seem like a normally functioning human. People think you’re letting them in, but it’s just an illusion.
But the problem with glass walls is that all it takes is one smudge and the right person, the one who’s looking hard enough, to see it. Then they can take a sledgehammer, shattering everything you’ve worked so hard to build.
Thatis what they’ve done. All I can do now is hope and pray that they catch me when I fall through to the other side.
“What did he do to you?” Olivia whispers through her silent tears.
“Look you guys, I love you, but I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Hunter. It doesn’t matter what Drew did. I’m okay, I survived and now I’m pretty much healed, okay? All that matters now is that I’m safe and that he’s found,” I soothe.
“Stop saying it doesn’t matter Isabella! Fuck! You keep spouting this and I swear to God, it’s like you think if you say it enough it will magically be true!” Hunter shouts as he flies off the lounger. “It matters, Ella. Itmatters.You matter, your injuries fucking matter. And the fact that Drew is a sick piece of shit that tied you up, beat you, and raped youmatters! Fucking hell! I can’t keep sitting here listening to you dismiss this shit!”
“He did what?” Gianna yells, but I’m too busy watching my best friend disintegrate before my eyes.
“Hunter, please come sit down and talk to me,” I murmur, tugging on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. His wide eyes swing to me and I’m instantly up, gathering him into my arms when I see that he’s crying. “Babe, what the hell is happening right now? I know this is bad, I do. I’m not trying to downplay it. But Hunt, I can’t sit around and be upset about what happened to me. I can't. Don’t you see that? If I let myself fall apart over this, I won’t stop. I won’t stop until I’m broken and I’ve been there. I’ve been nothing but the shell of a person. I’ve lost myself. I’mnotgoing back.”
I hold him with everything I have, squeezing him and showing him with not only my words, but my actions, that I mean what I’m saying. This week, I’ve had a lot of time alone to think and process, and as crazy as it sounds, I am okay. I still feel strong. I feel powerful and brave and for the first time in my life, instead of cowering and falling apart over someone else’s horrific actions toward me, I am allowing the anger to fill me. I am letting it fuel me.
