ChapterEleven
“N-No, i-it wasn’t h-his fault.” Dammit, she couldn’t stop stuttering. She pressed her face in Deacon’s shirt, her tears soaking the fabric.
It had felt so good having Thayer touch and kiss her. Everything had felt incredible, that is until she had felt his fingers slide against her belly.
Her past had reared its ugly head, and she knew she couldn’t do this. If he saw what her body looked like, how the ugly purple and black bruises covered her flesh. No doubt he would have been appalled and disgusted.
She didn’t want to see that look on his face, and so she had done what she did best. She ran away.
She felt like a fool, but for the life of her she couldn’t pull away from Deacon’s body. His hands ran up and down her back, soothing her and making her tears lessen.
At first she had tried to push away, but Deacon was a strong man and refused to let her go. Right now she didn’t want him to anyway. She felt Thayer move behind her and relaxed further.
What was it about these men that had her on edge, but also had her feeling more comfortable then she had felt around anyone else?
“What happened? Who hurt you?” Deacon said at the crown of her hair. Her head rested against his heart, and the sound of it beating could have lulled her to sleep … could have if she wasn’t about to jump out of her skin.
Thayer’s hand landed on the small of her back, and she felt the weight and heat of it seep into her.
“Tell us, Jessa.” The rumble of Deacon’s voice let her know he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
Admitting her private life to these two men didn’t sound like a good time, but she had already acted like a fool in front of Thayer and knew they deserved to know why she acted like a freak.
Pushing away from them, she moved over to the couch and sat down. They followed right behind her, situating themselves on the leather chairs in front of the couch.
Their gazes were penetrating, and she felt like a specimen under a microscope.
“Tell us, Jessa.” Deacon said as he placed his elbows on his knees and leaned forward. Thayer was in much of the same position. His tone was hard, yet coaxing.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just tell us. You’re safe.”
It didn’t make sense that she believed them. It wasn’t like she knew them, but deep down inside she knew that these two men could be trusted above all else.
Everything seemed crazy and weird, but it was her reality. Everything seemed to be running in fast forward. Although it had just been twenty-four hours ago that she had run from Paul, it felt like a lifetime ago.
She took a deep breath and spilled the dirtiest and most shameful part of her life to them. “I started dating him when I turned seventeen.
He was my first and only boyfriend, my high school sweetheart. Everything was fine, perfect even. He said all the right things, and was always there for me, especially when both of my parents died the summer I graduated.”
She took a deep breath as painful memories washed through her.
“Paul helped me get through it, helped me get my life sorted out so I could live again. My parents were all I had, and so after they died Paul became my only family.”
“Jesus, Jessa. I’m so sorry.” She smiled at Thayer but refused to cry. Deacon held a stoic expression, but she could feel his comfort and understanding in his unspoken words.
Here we go.
“The abuse started a year after that. First it started as insults and little jabs at my weight. It then escalated to the pushing and hitting.” The room grew uncomfortably silent, but she pushed forward. “I was a fool for staying with him, but I didn’t have anyone else and feared being alone. He apologized every time, telling me it would never happen again, but of course it did. I know not all men were like that, but I’m a ruined girl, and who wants something that’s broken?”
She couldn’t look at them as she delved into the darkest part of her soul and put it out in the open. Once again she asked herself why she was telling them any of this.
All she wanted to do was put the past behind her, yet she spilled her life just because they had asked, no, told her to tell them. Fortunately, they didn’t say anything, just let her get it out.
In all honesty telling someone what had happened had a sense of relief washing through her.
“I told myself I wouldn’t stay another day, but then he would apologize, bring me flowers and chocolates, and grovel like his life depended on it. I was so dependent on him that I believed every fucking lie he spewed.”
The tears she had tried desperately to hold in were threatening to break through.
“He brought home random women like I meant nothing. Like I meant nothing. I told him I planned on leaving, more than once, but he wouldn’t let me go.
He knew I had no one, and he liked knowing I was dependent on him. For five years I let him do this to me. I let myself be his doormat. I decided to finally leave, but that night he had come home drunk and thought it would be a good time to use me as his personal punching bag.”
Deacon moved beside her and she curled into his body. She turned her head and looked at Thayer. She hated seeing the sympathy on his face.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay.” Deacon’s deeply whispered words sounded gruff with emotion against her hair.
“It’s not okay.” Tears fell down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “It’s not okay because I don’t know if I killed him before I ran.”