It’s what I want, what I need, and still I feel bereft. Lost. I should be furious, and maybe I will be when the shock wears off, but right now all there is is grief. Overwhelming, all-encompassing, total.
I want to scream until I have no more voice, to rage until I have no more hurt. To just drown in the confusion and horror that has once more ripped through my life.
But fragments of last night are working their way around in my head, and I’m putting them together even when it’s the last thing I want to do.
Ethan, breaking up with me.
Ethan, looking like his whole world was ending.
Ethan, chasing after me and fucking me up against the wall like we were the last two people on earth.
For a moment, just a moment, my body responds to the memory of being in his arms. Of having him inside me. Maybe he really didn’t know about Brandon when this thing between us started. Maybe he’s telling the truth. He’s never lied to me before.
This time when my knees tremble it’s from desire as much as it is from pain.
From addiction as much as it is from sorrow.
My eyes lock with his storm-tossed blue ones, as I try to decide what the truth is.
Try to decide what matters, and what doesn’t.
But the truth is, everything matters now—and the past most of all. Trying to pretend otherwise will only make it worse. Because being here with Ethan, knowing what I know, brings everything that happened before rushing back in stark clarity. I can’t run from it, can’t hide. It’s all right here, in my head. In my heart. In my soul.
The rape.
My parents’ betrayal and subsequent sellout.
Brandon’s delight in winning and the obnoxiousness that went along with it.
The months and years of being hassled, of being groped in the stairwell at school by his oh-so-privileged friends, of being called a slut and a whore and a million other names I’ve tried so hard to forget.
Of never feeling safe anywhere.
“You knew last night.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
He opens his mouth, starts to say something, closes it again. He looks as sick as I feel. “No.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but then there really isn’t anything else to say, is there? His brother raped me. Ethan’s brother raped me.
My stomach churns and for a second I’m afraid I’m going to be sick.
But I’m not that girl anymore, not the weak, scared little freshman who used to run to the bathroom and throw up because she couldn’t handle the bullying or the fear. I’m not the girl who was so desperate for her parents’ approval that she let them browbeat her into hiding the truth, into selling out.
No, I walked away from her forever when I left home and came here for college. When I started building my own life on my own terms.
I will be damned if I end up right back inside of her, trapped and terrified, just because Ethan lied to me. Just because Brandon has made a sudden and unwelcome reappearance in my life.
“I need to go.”
“Chloe, please.” He reaches for me again.
“Don’t touch me!” The words come out half sob, half shriek and Ethan freezes mid-reach. It’s the first time I’ve raised my voice since this nightmare began. “I need you to leave me alone. I need—”
My voice breaks and I turn away, start picking my clothes up off the floor. I begin to pull them on, but then realize I’ll have to take my robe off for that and the last thing I want to be right now is naked in front of Ethan Frost. Especially when I’ve already laid myself bare in front of him every way that I can.