And with that, the only girl he’d ever loved walked out of his life.
Brynn locked herself in her bedroom and waited until she heard the front door close before crumpling into a ball on the floor, wishing she could shut her eyes and not wake up again. But every time her eyelids closed, the feel of the monster’s hands crawled over her skin, and images of Reid’s brokenhearted face tore through her.
There was no escape. No safe corner in her mind. Maybe never would be again.
So she cried and stared blankly at the peeling paint on the baseboards, letting the sobs wrack her abused body well into the night, until she was only a husk of the person she had been a few hours before. Until she felt dead inside.
SEVENTEEN
now
Brynn nestled deeper into the crook of Reid’s arm, the bed squeaking beneath her, and he ran his palm over her hair. She’d told him everything, dragged out the nasty innards of what had happened to her, and laid it out there unedited.
He’d listened to every word—shock, sympathy, and anger crossing his face at different intervals. But to his credit, even though she could tell he’d had questions, he’d held his tongue and had let her finish without interruption, as if sensing that if she’d paused, she wouldn’t have been able to get it all out.
His chest rose and fell under her cheek as he drew in a deep breath and released it. “My God, Brynn. I don’t even know what to say.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything,” she said, feeling tired, gutted.
He pressed his lips to the crown of her head, and his voice turned strained. “This was all my fault. If I hadn’t been late, I could’ve stopped him.”
“No,” she said, sitting up so she could face him. “Don’t do that. The rape was not your fault. It was that psycho’s fault, whoever he is.”
He shook his head, his jaw set. “No, I could’ve helped. Could’ve been there for you.”
The guilt in his words tore at her. “I didn’t let you. I almost broke down and called you about a week later. But then I saw the photo in the paper of you and Vanessa at that party, and I figured you were probably better off. It’s not like I would’ve been able to continue the kind of relationship we had. You saw what happened earlier. Blindfolds, being restrained, aggressive guys—it all can set off panic attacks or flashbacks for me now.”
He grimaced. “Why didn’t you tell me when we got here? I would’ve never made you do all this. We could’ve done the bare minimum to get by.”
“Talking about the details of that night just drags me back there, so I didn’t want to open myself up to that again. Plus, I thought coming here could be a cure. Sometimes throwing yourself totally into the fear can fix it.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m so tired of feeling this way, letting it interfere with my life. I wanted to see if I could force myself past it, have a shot at a normal life, a chance at finding a normal relationship.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I feel like such an asshole. I pushed you harder than I ever have. You must’ve been miserable the whole time we’ve been here.”
She gave a half-smile. “Well, not the whole time. You and Jace made it a bit difficult to focus on anything but the two of you.
I thought the rip-off-the-Band-Aid method was working, but then—”
He frowned. “I took it too far. I was so wrapped up in my own crap that I wasn’t paying attention to your signals. I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. It was stupid for me to think I could get over it that easily. Clearly, I’m too screwed up for a quick fix. I just hope I can make it through tomorrow night without completely losing it again.”
He reached out and rubbed her knee. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re not screwed up—you’ve been through hell. The fact that you had the balls to come here in the first place is amazing. If you want to skip tomorrow night, I can go alone—try to track Kelsey down for you.”
“No, it’s okay. She’s not going to be willing to talk to anyone but me. I’ll figure out a way to get through it. And if the panic takes over, I’ll have you and Jace there to help me.”
“I’ll be there for whatever you need.”
The sincerity emanating from his blue eyes sent hazy warmth through her. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Thank you.”
With this thumb, he swiped away the lone tear that had slipped past her lids. “Thanks for finally trusting me with the truth.”
Without considering the consequences, she dipped back down, seeking a deeper kiss. She knew it was dangerous, stupid. But after rehashing the rape, she needed to erase the ugliness of the last hour. She didn’t want to think about that night or the daunting task of finding her sister tomorrow or all the reasons why she needed to avoid Reid now. All she wanted to do was bury herself in the feeling she used to get when it was just the two of them—like no problem in the world was too big to tackle.Author: Roni Loren
Reid’s eyebrows rose in surprise when her mouth touched his again, but after a second’s pause, he slipped his fingers along the nape of her neck and drew her in closer. His tongue parted her lips, and his other hand drifted to the small of her back. Instead of the frantic need that had colored their earlier encounter, he took a languid pace with his kiss and explored her mouth with heated tenderness, savoring her.
He eased back against the pillows, lowering her until her breasts pressed into the solid planes of his chest. Her muscles melted against him, and she sank into the moment—relishing his flavor, the feel of his stubble against her face, the scent of fading cologne and man. If she could bottle minutes, she would capture these.
Too soon, Reid withdrew and stared up at her with conflicted eyes. He cradled the side of her face. “It’s been a long night, sugar. How about I go run you a hot bath?”