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She chuckled to herself as if in disbelief. “It’s the first time I’m saying it out loud to anyone.”
A ball squeezed into my chest, making it hard to breathe. Her tone was impassive, almost as if she were telling me a story about someone else. And that was what convinced me because I’d seen that reaction in my men when they recalled some of their trauma.
“I don’t remember what he was like before he left,” she continued. “I only know who he became. He used to drink a lot, and sometimes, he would say some pretty shitty things to my mom and me. He was convinced she’d cheated on him and that I wasn’t his real daughter. And nothing she said could convince him otherwise.” She sighed. “And then Mom left, and the real abuse started.”
Something ripped me apart inside, breaking me open. I couldn’t help thinking about it. Her pain sent an echo flooding through me, and guilt drowned out every other thought.
Because this was our fault.
We’d fucked up.
We’d done this to her.
Her face was carefully blank, but I knew it was only to mask the deep pain inside—the pain of knowing the only parent you were with hated your fucking guts. And if I hadn’t been sure she was Max’s daughter, I would have thought I got the wrong person.
But I knew Max had been different. Knew the torture broke something inside him.
And we’d just sent him back. We’d used him and spat him back out, and no amount of money could replace what we’d taken from him.
Because of us, his daughter had gotten hurt multiple times. She’d been shattered and broken to this point.
And because of us, she continued to speak in that damned emotionless tone.
“But the physical abuse didn’t start till much later,” she added, and the look on her face was absolutely heart-wrenching. “I was a teenager acting out. Staying out late and all that jazz. I thought I earned it, my mom left me, and my dad didn’t give a damn about me, so why not? At least my friends were around. Brenda mostly.” She gave a watery sigh. “And then one night, I came home late, and we got into it. I don’t even remember what he was ranting about. But one second, he was yelling, and the next, he smacked me across the face. Just like that.”
“Fucking bastard.” The curse came from deep within, a roiling rage that always sparked whenever I thought about her being hurt. At that point, I forgot about Max being a friend. At that point, he was no longer the man I cared about and the man who’d served with me.
He was the man who abused her. And if he were alive right now, I would have made him sorry.
Even my own guilt wasn’t enough to let him get away with that. He didn’t have to resort to abusing his family. He could have done just about anything else, and I would have forgiven him. Even if he’d shot me square in the face.
But he hurt a little girl who’d done nothing to him, a girl who couldn’t fight back. A girl he’d claimed to love.
And for that, I would never forgive him.
My opinion of him had shifted forever, and there was nothing that could be done about it.
“Thank you for telling me,” I managed to bite out. She must have recognized the anger in my voice, and she glanced at me warily.
“Are you mad at me?” she mumbled softly.
“No.” The fact that she would even think something like that was a testament to how damaged she was. “Never. Never at you.”
She pursed her lips. “I’m not saying you should stop loving him. I’m just letting you know why I can’t. I don’t know that man you were talking about. All I know is who he became.”
“I know, honey. And I don’t blame you. I’ll never blame you. I just…”My heart aches for you. I’m angry on your behalf. “How could your mother just leave you with him? Why didn’t she take you with her?”
She shrugged. “No clue. At first, I was angry at her for not taking me with her, but then I got tired of being that way. She did what she had to do. Who am I to judge her?”
I could judge her, though. As a mother, she should never have left her daughter with such a man.
“No one will ever hurt you again,” I said reassuringly. “I swear it.”
Later that night, I was thinking about it as I held her in my arms. I was battling internally because I knew this couldn’t last. I would have to leave her at some point.
But how could I? How could I leave her when everyone else had done the same?
My phone started ringing, and I answered it quickly, stepping out of the room so as not to wake her.
