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“Is it about what happened?” Dean asks me, his voice hard and I can only nod. The words pile up in the back of my throat, suffocating me. “Then you don’t have to say it.”
“You have to listen,” I plead with him. “It’s about me,” I start to say, and my words come out scratchy as my throat closes. “It’s my fault.”
“You didn’t make him hurt you.” Dean’s shoulders tense as he looks at me without holding back any emotion. The air turns bitter cold between us. “I don’t care if you feel like you should have known. Fuck, I don’t care if you were drunk and passed out naked with the door wide open.” Dean’s words are harsh as he lets the anger slip out. “I don’t care if you blame yourself. I don’t care if the world thinks you should have known. I don’t give a fuck.”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth as tears prick my eyes.
“He didn’t do it just once,” Dean says and I can’t hold back anything anymore.
I let out a hard, ugly sob, the images of Sam going up the stairs flashing through my mind. Shouldn’t we have known back then? I wish we had. God, I swear I wish we had. “I want to take it back,” I sob, barely getting out the words.
“Allie Cat, don’t cry.” Dean’s words come out softly and he pulls me into his arms again.
“Please,” I beg him as if he alone has the power to go back. I need him to listen. To hear me, and to understand.
He kisses my temple, my hair, rocking me as my tears slowly subside. I sniffle and try not to get his shirt wet and smeared with mascara, but he doesn’t let me pull away.
“I’m not innocent,” I tell Dean, looking him in the eyes and feeling the confession right there. “I’m telling you when I opened that door—”
“You let him in,” Dean says and cuts me off. “That’s all opening that door did. You let him in.”
“I knew who he was.” I let out the first part of the confession, the dark dirty secret spilling out in small pieces.
“All you did was let him in.” He responds as if he didn’t hear me.
I gave him the chance he needed. There’s an evil in the eyes of those who cause pain. It won’t be influenced. I should know. I knew when I opened that door that I was staring into the eyes of a man who would hurt me. And I welcomed him.
“I wanted him to come in. I wanted him to hurt me.” My words are strangled, but Dean hears them.
His grip on me loosens as he looks down at me with an expression of disbelief, but it’s quick to harden and he shakes his head.
“My friend Sam. He raped her,” I say but have to stop and cover my mouth with my hand as I gasp for air. My eyes close as I try to calm myself down and Dean holds me, begging me to just come with him, but I need to get it out.
“Dean.” I barely manage to look him in the eyes as I cling to his forearms and confess. “I came here knowing who he was. I wanted him to hurt me, so I could get justice for what he did to Sam.” It’s her name on my lips that makes my voice tremble and the tears fall. “I knew what I was doing, but I didn’t want this.”
Dean doesn’t speak as the night gets colder and darker and a gust of wind pulls my hair behind my shoulder, baring my neck and letting the chill travel down my spine.
“So, if you want to run, I don’t know that you’d really want me to be the one beside you. I’m not a good person, and I haven’t been in so long. I hated him, Dean. I wanted him to pay …”
Dean takes a step backward and the chill instantly replaces what’s left of his warmth, but I can’t stop myself from telling him everything.
“I came here,” I say then pause as my vision clouds with tears and my shoulders shake. “I came here to set him up. I knew he would do it again ... not like that. I didn’t know that would happen but I just had to give him the chance. It’s my fault.”
“He already had,” Dean says although his gaze is vacant, and his words fall flat. “That girl in our class … he already had.”
“I didn’t know,” I say and then wipe under my eyes with the sleeves of my sweater. I can barely look Dean in the eyes.
“There’s so much I didn’t know. I didn’t know I would meet you, let alone …” I hesitate to admit what’s between us. Or what was between us. It’s odd, sensing the sickness of the truth being quickly replaced by emptiness. It’s all that’s left as I wait for Dean’s judgment. But he doesn’t say anything.
“Please talk to me.” I have no right to speak to him, but I still beg him. If he hates me, I’ll deserve it.
“Say it,” Dean commands me. “Tell me.”
“Tell you what?” I grasp at anything I can to give Dean what he wants. “I didn’t know I’d fall for you. I didn’t think this would happen.”
“You didn’t think I’d kill him?” he asks as if he really thinks I’d set him up for that. I shake my head violently, praying that he’ll believe me.
“Never. I never thought for one moment that you would get hurt.”
