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I turn my head and meet Blade’s eyes. He looks and sounds genuine… Almost kind. He looks even more handsome with soft eyes and a caring face. With full, smooth lips I wish were on me right now, taking precedence over the memories shoving their way into my head.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.” I huff and give my head a shake. “The ‘my uncle touched me’ story is a fucking cliche. Use your imagination.”
Blade takes several seconds to respond, and when he does, his voice is soft. “He molested you?”
“You were going to put me in a whore house. Don’t act morally superior.”
“You weren’t a child… And if you recall, I didn’t go through with it.” A minute goes by, and I watch Blade’s mind spin with something. He thinks while I try not to.
“What was the box?” he asks at last, his voice just as soft.
The image forms in my mind, and I try to push it away.
It’s nothing.
I’m fine.
I’m strong.
I’m safe.
… Maybe not that last part.
“It was a wine cooler. He used to put me in there when I acted up.”
Blade frowns and nods as if he could ever understand. “That’s why you reacted the way you did to the bath being cold?”
I try to hide my shiver by sitting up and rolling my shoulders. “Lucky I live in the desert, right? I’ve never been a fan of the cold.”
“What else did he do?” Blade asks.
I turn to him with my eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”
He shrugs. “I just do.”
I stare at him for a long time, long enough for my tough act to melt and for tears to slip from my eyes. I try to tell myself it’s curiosity fueling him, but fuck it would feel so good to be in his arms. To be held and lied to.
I blink a few more tears away and wipe my eyes. “Well, let’s see. I had the grand privilege of having the basement converted to a bedroom, which from the outside made me look like a spoiled little girl with how big the place was. Stuffed with toys, one of those princess, queen size beds with the sheer canopies. Everything was pink.Everything. I think that was part of what got him off, the ‘little princess’ aspect. It never changed, even when I was a teenager.”
“He’s…” I give my head a shake and swallow down emotion. My throat keeps clogging, and my words garble. “He’s sick. Really, really sick. He kept a lock on the door and basically only let me out if he had company he wanted to appear like a family man for. Or if he was rewarding me or something. My aunt homeschooled me, so that wasn’t an issue for them. The weird thing was,” I let out a dry laugh and wipe beneath my eyes. “In the four years I was there, she actually tried her best to give me an education. I think she felt bad for what her husband did to me. She was just as scared of him as I was.”
I look at my lap and take deep breaths, trying to keep myself together. It was a long time ago. A whole other life.
I’m fine.
I’m fine.
I’mfine.
Blade stays silent, and it makes the room louder. Someone slams a door in another apartment. A couple chats as they walk by. A ceiling fan whooshes over the kitchen.
“I know what you’re thinking,” I say, needing to break the silence. “Why didn’t I run sooner?”
“I wasn’t thinking that.”
I pick at my fingernails and shift on the cushion. “I was just a kid, and I didn’t have anyone to help me. I was scared. Telling someone was off the table. My uncle would’ve easily had whatever claims I made dismissed. My parents died when I was ten, and they weren’t exactly great role models. They were addicts and were high on meth when they wrecked that car. My mother prostituted herself for them both, while my dad worked at a gas station. They made my uncle out to be a saint after he took me in. Whatever I said would’ve been chalked up to me being a problem child making crazy accusations for attention. My uncle would’ve made sure of it.”
By the time I’m finished speaking, my jaw is clenched, and I’m angrily swiping a tear off my cheek. Blade scoots closer to me until our thighs touch. He takes my hand and squeezes. I turn my head to look at him.
