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“Well that's about to change.” Jericho smirks. “My mother has invited us to go to Saint Tropez.”
“I’d love to go there.” I nod and widen my smile, masking the bad memory of me almost going to Saint Tropez.
That would have been my honeymoon destination if I’d married Sasha. Just before the wedding that was never going to happen he started to show his true colors.
The bastard took his secretary to Saint Tropez instead, while I stayed home, scrubbing the floors of our dinky apartment. Then, he had the audacity to come and show me pictures of the two of them on the beach, and the two of them in bed. That's what he used to do to me.
I push the memory out of my mind. It's better if I don't think about horrible things from the past.
“I’ll take you to Saint Tropez.”
“Thank you. It’s probably the other place I wanted to go to more than Russia.”
Jericho smiles probably remembering how much I used to talk about Russia when we were younger, then he looks at me with concern. I know he's wanted to ask me more about my life there, about what happened to me. I've been grateful that he's stopped trying to find out. I don't know how much digging he's done. If he's found out enough to stop asking questions, or if he hasn't dug anymore.
“Would you ever go back to Russia?”
“Just for work. Like if I got into New York City Ballet. If I do, I’d go anywhere they needed me to go and I’d do everything to live the dream again. It would be my second chance.”
He moves closer to sit next to me and wraps the blanket around my shoulders.
We stare at each other, and I wonder if I’d be more open to talk about my terrible experiences now that so much has happened between us.
I don’t know.
“What happened to you, River? I used to love hearing you dream. Back then, all you used to do was talk about traveling the world and dancing. I have no doubt New York will take you. But I wish you didn't need that second chance. I'm guessing that was because of your ex.”
I pull the blanket closer and look away, staring out to what I can see of the dark horizon. I swallow against the knots of my throat. And I realize it's always going to be hard to talk about Sasha. Every time I do, for any length of time, I break down.
“It's difficult to talk about him,” I rasp. “Everything about him was bad.
I’m embarrassed that I let myself down for allowing certain things to happen to me, to ruin my dream.”
“We all have a story like that, Mermaid. We all do.” A smirk without humor dips the corners of his mouth.
“There's no way you allowed anyone to humiliate you. No way. Not the great Jericho Grayson.”
“Try me. His voice is hollow, and he stares back at me for a languid moment. The only light we have is the mixture of moonlight and fire. But the trouble lurking in his eyes is so vivid, it could be pitch black and I'd still see it.
“My father,” he mutters, in that same hollow tone, but this time, my insides twist. “My father used to beat shit out of me every chance he got.”
My eyes snap wide. I know Jericho doesn't have any kind of relationship with his father, but he's never spoken about any form of abuse.
“I didn't know.”
“It’s only my grandfather who knew. He found out years too late. If Knight had known, I’m sure he would have killed our father.”
“Oh God, Jericho. I'm so sorry.”
“It's okay.” He pulls in a breath and reaches for a cigarette in his pocket. He lights up, takes a few puffs, then allows it to dangle between his fingers. “People see me as a strong person. They think I'm ruthless and heartless, cold and merciless. They think nothing bothers me. But they never stopped to consider how I got that way.”
I'd never have imagined that something like that would have happened to him.
“When did it start?” I ask.
“I was nine. I'd gone to New York to spend the summer with my grandparents, my father came by the house to visit. He brought Bastian along with him. Bastian and I got into a fight, but he started it by trying to blame me for something he did. I pushed him off me, but he fell cut his arm. Later that night, my father caught up with me, punched life out of me. I'll never forget that night.” He shakes his head.
My stomach twists even more.
