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As I watch the tainted water swirl down the drain, my head flashes with perfectly clear images of what I’m sure will become my torment. If I even make it out of this in one piece.
Her best friend is dead, and all I managed to say was, “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
And even that was a lie. I don’t have her. I don’t even know if she’s okay. I don’t even know her real fucking name.
The sound of their screams fills my mind next, and it takes everything in my power not to scream louder, not to try anything I can to drown it out.
Instead, I grip my head and remain silent. I have no choice. I’ve got more than one nightmare to contend with.
Considering the blood caked to my body, I’m in and out of the shower in barely a few minutes. I can’t risk staying here any longer.
I can’t let him see.
I switch off the tap and still before stepping out, listening carefully for any indication that I might not be alone. But when the house remains quiet, I move, quickly drying off so I can clean up the mess.
The mess?It’s more than just what I see here. More than just blood and tears. And I’m in the middle of it.
I pause again, letting my head hit the wall as I run my hands down my face. I’m so fucked.
This is so fucked.
I’ve just opened my eyes when the door crashes open, making me jump as fresh bile rises in my throat.
“What the hell is going on?” my foster father yells, his eyes raking over my naked body, lingering where they shouldn’t.
“Get the fuck out,” I bite back, standing my ground, before adding, “I’ll be out in a minute.” Letting him know he’s free to beat the shit out of me when I’m done.
He sways slightly before turning around, and a feeling of weightlessness flows through me as every part of me relaxes. I’ve taken beatings before; I can survive this. But not naked. I need to maintain some dignity, some control.
The door clicks shut as I switch on the tap and I audibly sigh, grateful for small mercies. But when I look up in the mirror, the blood drains from my body and I pray to God for the very first time.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Willow
Tearsfalldownmycheeks, but I frantically wipe them away, not wanting to add to Jesse’s pain as he continues on.
“He came at me with his fists held high, and for the first time since it started, I pushed back. It wasn’t hard, but it was firm. I couldn’t let him touch me.”
He pauses, swallowing back the emotions he’s trying hard to keep buried, while he clenches his fists so tightly they’re turning red.
“You don’t have to say any more,” I whisper, terrified of where this story is going, while also feeling like I know.
Jesse clears his throat and shakes his head before continuing. “When he triedotherthings,” he says, moving past the detail. “When hetried… I snapped. After everything that happened that day, I was already so shattered, I wasn’t about to add more to my madness. A manic scream filled the air and at the time, I didn’t realize it was mine until Tate came bursting into the room. I should have left. But I was done. I couldn’t handle it any longer.”
He falls silent again with his body hunched over as I wait patiently, not sure if he wants to go on. But when his shoulders start to shake, I know that he’s finished.
“God, Jesse.”
I crawl on to the bed behind him and wrap my legs around his waist, resting my head on his back. As tears fall, I curl my arms around him, holding my palm over his heart.
A few minutes pass before Jesse sniffs and clears his throat again, straightening his back. “I killed him, Willow,” he says, his voice devoid of emotion. “I killed him and I felt nothing. No remorse. No regret. Nothing. If anything, I felt relieved.”
When Jesse pauses this time, I try to think of the right words, but I'm at a complete loss. If I thought my heart was broken before, the pain I felt then is nothing compared to what I feel now. The pain of knowing what he went through and finally understanding why he never wanted to be touched, why he hated intimacy.
After a quiet moment, Jesse huffs out a laugh. “And that’s my story.”
I hug him tightly, my head still resting on his back, thinking about everything he's been through. But something doesn’t add up.How could he get away with murder?
