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Actually, I have more than just someone.
I have people.
Cole may not be here himself, but the fact that he sent Leighton to me speaks loud enough that he's still supporting me, even if from afar. I have Sadie, who's texted a few times to check in on me, and Mama Belle who continues to nag me about my eating habits despite being two thousand miles away. My mama too, now that I'm able to speak to her freely without the ominous weight of Dad lurking somewhere in the background. And sure, it's only on the phone and not in person, but it's more of a connection than we had before my father died.
But she still doesn't know the real reason I left Tupelo when I was eighteen. She still believes whatever story it was that Dad spun her all those years ago. And truthfully, I've made my peace with that.
I don't mind that it's an event in my life we don't talk about together. We don't need to. It's never affected our relationship and telling her what really happened now wouldn't benefit anyone.
In fact, it would only cause harm.
How could I tell her that the man she'd been married to for the majority of her life convinced his own daughter that the sexual exploitation she faced was her own fault? She'd never think the same of him again. Telling her the truth would only complicate her grief further. It would only make it harder for her to deal with what is already a very dark chapter in her life.
So no, I will never tell her.
And I'm okay with that.
“So, here's what I'm thinking.” Leighton looks up at me, brown eyes wise and dancing with ideas. “We gotta take down the agent.”
My stomach flips. “What?”
“Cole told me y'all bumped into a young girl at the gala who works for the pervert who hurt you.”
“Yeah, she gave me his card.” I nod and take a small suck from the straw of my juice. “But he's powerful, Leigh. It'd be a game of 'he said, she said,' and I've got no way of proving that what happened to me wasn't consensual.”
“I know.” She seems to sag slightly before perking up. “And it's shitty as fuck that we can't get him for that, but it ain't all bad news.”
“No?” I sit up higher in my seat, adrenaline beginning to pump through my veins.
“How old were you when you first sent him the photos he used to blackmail you?” she asks softly, reaching across the table to hold my hand, conscious of the sensitivity of the subject.
I swallow. “Seventeen.”
“Right. Exactly.” She nods to herself, then raises her pen to her mouth to chew on the end of it. “Possession of sexual images of a minor is a felony, honey, punishable by up to, like, ten years of jail time.”
I gasp. My jaw drops, heavy and shocked, and my heart beats so fast I'm sure I'm only seconds away from cardiac arrest. The age I was when I sent those images never occurred to me as important because I was eighteen when the assault actually happened.
“Child pornography,” I whisper. “We can really get him for child pornography?”
“I mean, I think so. I'm a florist not a lawyer, ya know?” She laughs lightly at herself. “But I'm pretty sure we can, as long as we can prove you took those photos when you were still seventeen.”
“I don't think that should be a problem,” I say, though lacking certainty. My brows furrow, my forehead creasing in thought. “I still have the email I sent him saved on my account. That will give a clear date and time, right?”
Leighton claps, her eyes lighting up. The elation on her face is so genuine, so real that I take a second just to appreciate how lucky I am to have a friend like her at my side.
“Girl, you're looking at me all weird,” she says and I laugh.
I actually laugh.
Here, in the apartment that has always made me feel so alone, talking about getting justice from the man who blackmailed me into giving him a blow job, all while I mourn the loss of my relationship with the love of my life...I laugh.
“I'm just so fucking grateful you're here, Leigh,” I tell her. “I don't even know how I can begin showing you how thankful I am.”
“Well, you can start by promising not to curse again,” she says with a shudder. “It freaks me the fuck out. It just doesn't sound right coming out of your prissy mouth.”
Flicking the wet end of my straw at her, I feel some of the weight in my soul lighten into something a little like optimism. There's a glimmer of hope shining in the darkness. Maybe I really can take down the man who's caused me so much trauma, the man who has affected my life in so many awful, irrevocable ways. Maybe if we do this, I can finally get closure.
But then Leighton's face changes again, falling like a cool April shower. “You don't think he's done anything to that girl, do you? Bethie, that's her name, right?”
