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The feeling of failure was compounded when I couldn’t save myself. Orpheus ended up beating, binding, and raping me, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to prevent or stop it.
It made me feel like less of a man. It still does.
Rolling to my side, I give into the grief. My pillow is damp from the tears that fall like steady rain.
Orpheus took something from me that night that I’m afraid I’ll never get back. My sense of safety and security was stolen… and it’s made worse by the fact that I’m a male and supposed to be able to prevent that kind of thing. At least, that’s what society wants you to believe.
My thoughts go to Mackenzie. Now that I’ve been raped, I understand what she experienced on a deeper level. Acid churns inside my stomach as images of him violating her roll through my head. I raise my hands, gripping the sides of my head and squeezing like it will make the horrific memories disappear.
I should know better. Nothing makes them go away.
The only thing that makes me feel somewhat normal again is Mackenzie. Not only because of our shared experiences but that girl knows me better than anyone. She has the uncanny ability to give me a look whenever my mind wanders to the past, and it overwhelms me. She’s the only one who can reach me when my mind carries me back to that horrific hellhole. And she grabs my hand, pulling me out of it, without a single word or a sound leaving her beautiful bow-shaped lips.
She’s my life raft in the most turbulent trauma-filled seas.
I hate being apart from Mackenzie. Although our bedrooms are across the hall from one another, the emptiness inside me because of her absence feels like we’re a continent away. It’s ridiculous to think this, but there are times I wish we were still in that attic together. Just her and I, able to freely love each other.
A humorless laugh escapes me. I’m so addicted to her, so obsessed, that the thought of being alone with her in that attic is appealing.
I shake my head.I’m not right in the head.
Even as I think that the memories of holding Mackenzie on that stained, smelly mattress assault me. The way her curves fit so perfectly against my hard body. The aroma of her skin, even when it was covered in antibacterial soap or antiseptic that Rosario used to treat her wounds, was still so fresh, so uniquely hers.
She smelled like my salvation. Like the woman I’d love for the rest of my life and into the afterlife.
My forever.
I’m so caught up in my recollection that I jolt when Mackenzie’s familiar, soft hands touch my face. She stands in my bedroom, my dream girl materializing to life. I blink, staring at her like she’s a dream, an apparition, before lifting the covers. She smiles, climbing into bed beside me, settling against me as though she is the missing puzzle piece that makes me complete.
“I knew you needed me,” she whispers. “I felt it.”
I pull her against my chest, wrapping my arms around her like a python holding its prey. For the first time in a long time, I realize how damn lucky I am.
“Thank you,” I murmured against her hair.
She pulls back slightly, kissing the stubble on my jaw. “For what?”
My hand slides to her jaw, then through her hair. “For being you. You’reeverythingI want and need.”
Six hours later, Mackenzie and I sit in the backseat of her mom’s SUV, heading to the brick building downtown that houses the therapists Mackenzie and I have been seeing since our release from the hospital. Dread fills me like a lead balloon. My doctor is amazing, but it’s hard for me to discuss what happened without feeling like a failure.
It’s harder still to sit this far away from Mackenzie and not touch her. I desperately want to hold her hand right now, but with her mom driving the car, that can’t happen. Her frequent glances in the rearview mirror indicate she’s still watching us, as though the feelings Mackenzie confessed she had for me are wrong. I never got a chance to tell Pearl how much I loved her daughter because she started melting down.
When her mom pulls into a parking space, I realize I’ve been scratching the back of my hand nonstop. Glancing down at it, the scarlet spot is a glaring contrast to the pale skin surrounding it. I quickly pull my sleeve over it, trying to hide it.
Pasting a brave smile on my face, I glance over at Mackenzie, who is looking at me with a frown and furrowed brows. I nod at her, trying to convince her I’m okay.
Even though it’s all a lie.
“Do you want me to walk you kids in?—”
“No, Mom. We’re fine. Really.” Mackenzie flashes her a quick, reassuring smile before pushing the door open and stepping out into the cold. I follow, not saying a word to Pearl. I don’t trust myself to speak right now.
“Okay. I’ll be right here when the two of you are finished,” she says through the driver’s side window, having rolled it down as soon as Mackenzie opened her door.
“Okay.” Mackenzie tosses her a wave, and we turn, falling into step beside one another. As soon as we are out of her mom’s view, her hand clasps mine, and I can breathe again.
She gives my hand a squeeze. “I’m here. Nervous as fuck about these sessions, just like you.” Mackenzie’s words get right to the heart of the matter. Ever since we’ve been in captivity, she’s been far more transparent and blunter than she was before.
