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At his home, Finn ushered Holden in and asked him to take a seat at the kitchen table. He unpacked the bag, pulling out two Danishes that he put onto plates and two coffees. Finn sat opposite him. It was quiet and warm in the house. Somewhere he could hear a clock ticking. He imagined Finn and Brandon here in contented domesticity and he ached for something so alien to him.
Finn took a sip of his coffee.
“Why do you want to do this, Finn? It can’t just be catharsis, can it?”
Finn shook his head. “No, it’s money. Brandon says he’ll pay for me to start art school in September, but I know he can’t afford it. And I sure as hell can’t, working at the diner and selling the odd painting.”
Holden bit his lip. “I don’t want you to do this just for the money,” he said in a low voice. “It’s a bad idea.” Was he trying to talk Finn out of it? He guessed he was, because then, while still broke, his conscience would be clear.
Finn licked his lips. “Okay, let’s pretend it’s for a noble reason then. To encourage people to leave their abusive partner.”
Holden regarded him. “You can be that spokesman, Finn. Having a voice in a way you never have had before.”
Finn dipped his head with his mouth trembling.
Oh God, don’t cry, I can’t handle it. Right now, Holden wanted to be anywhere but here. He almost opened his mouth to put the brakes on the whole thing.
Instead, clearing his throat, he said, “Can I record you?”
Fin nodded. “But I want the right to delete any part of it before you leave this house.”
“Of course.”
In a low voice, Finn started to talk. “I met Dominic when I was twenty-one. He was handsome and charming with old-fashioned manners. He was a badly needed distraction from the misery of my life at home. I’d just come out to my parents and man, they did not take it well. My dad threw me out of the house and only my mom’s intervention allowed me to come back. On our first date, he took me to a restaurant. He held doors open. Pulled my chair out, gazed into my eyes like I was the most interesting person in the world and paid for everything. I was smitten. More so when he did nothing but kiss me on the cheek at the end, when I wanted so much more. And he knew that. He knew he had me on a string and he knew I’d put out as soon as he clicked his fingers.
“The first time he hit me, we hadn’t gone all the way. I could have escaped then and I didn’t. I don’t know why. Well, I do. I was telling myself he was something special and he was going to save me from my mundane, unhappy life.”
When Finn paused, Holden asked gently, “Why did he hit you?”
“Because a guy smiled at me when we were out on a date and I smiled back.” Finn lowered his head. “He almost knocked me out. I hit my head when I went down and my mouth was bleeding. He helped me up and gave me coffee and told me he got kind of jealous and he was sorry. I said I forgave him.” Tears slid out from under Finn’s lashes. “And I didn’t walk away when I should have done.”
“You don’t have to blame yourself for what he did to you,” Holden said with his heart breaking apart.
Finn swallowed. He cupped his hands around his coffee mug. “I’m not sure how I’m going to bring myself to tell you some of the things he did to me.” He took a breath and even though Holden didn’t expect it, he launched right into it. “He broke my bones. He burned me. He imprisoned me. He made me eat my dinner from the floor. He raped me. He pulled handfuls of my hair out in clumps. He held parties where he passed me around his friends and they all took a turn while he filmed it. He kept it on a DVD and Brandon’s seen it.” He wiped a rough hand over his face and stared down at the table.
Oh, Jesus. Holden kept his gaze fixed on Finn’s distraught face and wished he hadn’t opened this can of worms. What a terrible person he was for making Finn relive it all again.
“Sometimes he told me he loved me and that he didn’t mean it.”
“Did you believe him?”
“I guess I did. I stayed there, didn’t I?”
“Do you think it was just more a case of you wanting to believe he wouldn’t do it again?”
Finn bit his lip. “I suppose it was.”
“Did you love him?”
Finn didn’t look at him. He was silent for the longest time. Finally, he said, “I thought I did. Now when I compare it to what I feel for Brandon, I don’t understand how it could ever have been love.” He started to weep. “I thought it would get better. I thought he loved me enough to stop doing it. I dreamed of the day when he would. When we could be a normal couple. But I knew deep down that nothing about us was normal.” He put his head down on his hands.
“It’s okay,” Holden said with a lump in his throat, deeply shaken.
Finn pushed his chair back from the table. He paced a few steps to the counter, then back again, looking at Holden with his eyes red and his face tear-streaked. “I lived in terror for ten years,” he said. “And when I remember it, I can’t breathe. I hate that he still has this power over me.”
Holden pushed his chair back and stood. He shook his head. “He doesn’t, Finn. They’re just memories that will get better in time.”
Finn’s shoulders shook and Holden couldn’t bear it. He stepped forward and took Finn into his arms. “It’s okay,” he murmured, stroking Finn’s head. “It’s over.” What he really wanted to say was sorry for opening this Pandora’s box. Guilt ate him alive. Was it really worth this to make a few bucks?
