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“Low, no,” my mum says, her voice high-pitched and gravelly. Walking up to me, she pulls me into her arms, holding me tight. I hold her back in a tight grip, just needing her.
“He raped me,” I shrill, my voice scratchy. “He raped me. He was supposed to be my best friend, Mum. My best friend. We’ve known each other for so long. How could he do this to me? How?” I demand, clutching at her coat.
“Oh, baby,” she says thickly. “I’m so sorry. So very sorry. It’s all going to be okay. We’ll go to the police. Have you been to the hospital?”
Those words again. ‘I’m sorry’. Why is she sorry? That it’s happened to me? The funny thing is, neither Mum nor Allie seem surprised. They could be in shock, yeah, but something doesn’t feel right. I pull back from Mum, letting her wipe away my tears. She’s mindful of the bruise Alec left, looking at me tenderly.
Allie’s head is bent, looking to the floor. Her body is stiff, anxious, and panic stricken. My mum eyes her with sympathy, unsettling me.
“What is going on?” I ask in a deadly calm voice, looking between them.
“It’s my fault,” Allie whispers, and my god, the agonising pain in her voice cripples me. She crumples to the floor on her knees, quietly sobbing, and I turn to Mum for answers.
“Tell me, goddamn it,” I shriek, feeling like everything is about to crumble for me once again.
“When Allie was younger, Logan tried to rape her,” a deep, masculine voice interrupts, and I jump in surprise. My head shoots to Allie’s dad, Sam, not expecting to see him. I didn’t see him come in. He stands by the door, looking just as stricken as Mum and Allie do.
“No.” I shake my head, not believing him. I look to my mum, repeating myself. “No. You would have told me. I would have known.”
“Yes, baby. It’s why we stopped talking to his parents.”
But… No! This can’t be happening. Why would they let me hang out with him if they knew what he was like? No! This is just another nightmare. It’s not real. I would know. Allie’s my best friend, goddamn it. We’ve hung out longer than me and Logan have. We would have baths together, sleepovers… We did everything together. She wouldn’t keep this from me. Not this.
“You’re lying. Tell me they’re lying,” I shout at Allie. Her body flinches, and she can’t look me in the eye. “Tell me, Allie,” I repeat, my voice hoarse and broken.
She lifts her head, and the look on her face takes the breath out of me. I have to take a step back.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?” I laugh, sounding insane.
She nods again, wiping away her tears, but I’m so angry and furious. I feel so betrayed that all I see is red.
“You’re sorry?” I roar, and look at my mum, feeling deceived. “How could you keep this from me? He raped me. He drugged me and raped me. And you knew what he was like. I don’t even know what’s worse: wanting to remember or not remembering. How could you keep this from me?” I scream, and reach for the picture frame of me and Logan, one I’ve successfully managed to avoid looking at since I came back. “Look. Look!” I scream again, shoving it in her face. “We were sixteen,sixteen. How long have you known?Howlong?” The picture drops to the floor, smashing into a thousand pieces. I laugh as I look down at it. It feels just like my heart does right now.
“Baby, calm down. You don’t know the full story,” Mum tries to tell me, but it falls on deaf ears.
Smashing the picture felt good. It felt freeing, and a little piece that died inside me comes back to life. So I grab another, one of me and Allie this time, and do the same, smashing it at my feet.
“Low, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Mum panics, tears in her voice.
“Hurt myself? You can’t hurt when you’re already dead inside. You could have prevented this. You could have stopped this from happening. All this time, you knew.Sheknew. And you both let me be around him.” I shudder, disgusted. I walk over to my dresser and pick up the first thing my hand touches that I can smash. Perfume bottles, more pictures, ornaments, my Kindle, everything. I don’t even feel the glass crunching under my bare feet, I’m that numb.
“Willow,” Mum screams, trying to reach for me.
“He damaged me. He broke me. He made me bleed,” I ramble, my voice high and full of rage. My tub of pens flies across the room, nearly hitting Sam in the head. I don’t care. I don’t care about anything. Not anymore. Not now.
My whole life feels like a lie. It feels like everyone was laughing at me behind my back.
“Oh, Low,” Mum chokes out. She reaches for me, but I slap her hands away, ignoring the pain in her eyes. “Please,” she begs. “Let me hold you.”
“Don’t touch me.Don’ttouch me,” I shriek, and begin pulling at my hair, screaming out so loud my voice cracks. I fall to the floor, ignoring the broken pieces of glass and other bits beneath me. I feel detached from my own body. Hands reach for me, and I hear my mum pleading at someone to stop. At first, I think she’s telling me to stop screaming, but then I realise I’m banging my fists on my head like some crazy woman.
Two strong arms slip under me, holding me to their hard body and making sure the hoody covers my private parts. I bite my lip to stop myself from crying out in pain, not realising how much I was hurting until now. His scent fills me to the brim, and I take in a deep breath, relaxing my whole body into him.
I’d know that smell anywhere.
Cole walks off with me in swift movements. I keep my eyes closed since my vision is blurred from tears and exhaustion.
