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Me.
She complied, not because she thought she’d assaulted me. No. It was fear of the scandal of having sex with a minor. To this day, she believes it was consensual and has often told me we could revisit ‘the good old days.’
She was out of my immediate life, but she never left it completely, not when Mum’s career depended on the almighty Grace Bruckner. She worked so hard to be considered by her and I couldn’t be the one who ruined that.
So I swallowed the knife with its blood and pretended everything would be fine. I did encourage her. I did kiss her back. I did feel drunk on the sense of power she offered me.
A mancan’tbe raped by a woman.
That’s the stigma that stayed in my head even though the nausea from that time followed me for the rest of my life.
It got worse, not better, but I had it under control. I believed myself to befine.
Until Nikolai invaded my life and forced me to see just how fundamentally broken I am. That no matter how much I hide, I’m still naked and desolate.
The truth I hid from for years coiled from the ashes. Ibetrayedthat fifteen-year-old version of me and he rose from the decay and transformed into the reflection in the mirror. He became the pool of ink and the eyes who’ll never forgive me for letting him down.
Nikolai fundamentally changed me, because he crushed the lies I’ve been telling myself for years. I thought if I convinced myself I was normal, straight, and completely unaffected by the past, I’d eventually believe it. But that was a pipe dream.
Being with Nikolai hurts because I crave him despite hating myself. I need him so I can mend the broken pieces I shoved to the back of my closet of skeletons.
And that’s wrong.
I’m using him, and no matter how smitten he is with me, it’ll eventually backfire and blow us to smithereens.
If I want to keep him, I need to fix myself.
I need to find a way to talk to the fifteen-year-old me after alienating, discarding, and shutting him up for so long.
My muscles tighten and my migraine pounds harder when I see the woman waiting for me down the hall.
The need to run and hide pulses inside me so strongly, my vision blurs. Still, I walk at my steady pace, forcing down the deep hatred I hold for this woman.
Just suppress it for a few more weeks.
This exhibition will boost Mum to immeasurable stardom and then she won’t need Grace anymore. That’s when I can tell my parents and Nikolai. That’s when I can finally do right by him and my fifteen-year-old self.
“What do you want?” I ask with a sigh, my calm voice unrecognizable.
She smiles and I nearly gag on the smell of her perfume. “Oh, Bran. Are you seriously going to turn down this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity because of some little misunderstanding in the past?”
“Misunderstanding?” I grit my teeth, all my demons rushing out at once, and I feel my control smashing into pieces. “Did you just call it amisunderstanding? You fucking assaulted me, Grace.”
“I did no such thing. You clearly agreed to it. You kissed me back and led me on. So don’t stand there and claim assault.”
“I told you no!”
“Shh.” She scans her surroundings. “What’s with that tone? Why are you hissing and acting like that delinquent boy toy you brought along? You’re much more elegant and sophisticated and should consider your company. That Nikolai is not good for you—”
One moment she’s standing there, and the next, I’m jamming my palm against her face, banging her head against the wall with a thud. She stares at me through my fingers with wide eyes, and for the first time, I see fear.
She’s scared of me. Good.
“Don’t you fucking dare say his name with your rotten mouth. You don’tmentionhim. You don’ttalkto him, and if you see him, you walk the other fucking way or, so help me God, Iwillkill you. Am I clear?”
She nods once, her face turning red.
The urge to crush her skull between my fingers burns bright in my pounding head, but I release her. Because how can I be with Nikolai if I’m locked up for murder?
