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“What did she mean?”

“Well, if I could just be a good boy and ‘persuade’ the committee members she’d make a fine addition…”

Britta’s horrified gasp guts me, and I look away again. Yeah, I never wanted her to know just how fucked up I was. But I couldn’t shove it down forever. One way or another, my damage was going to ruin us. At least now she doesn’t have to wonder if she somehow contributed to our problems.

“She wanted you to sleep with them?”

I nod. “I didn’t know that at first. She simply told me to visit them. I had better manners than Maxon, you see. Once they met me, of course they would understand how she could add to their community.”

“But what she meant was, scratch their itch until they were convinced to let your mom onto the committee?” Britta looks outraged. Or is that disgusted?

“I think blackmailed would be a better term.”

“Oh, my god… She’s your mother.”

“I don’t say this lightly, but she’s a self-serving bitch.”

“How many committee members were there?” Britta’s voice shakes.

Once I tell her, I can’t take it back. She’ll know what a man-whore I was as a teenager. The kind of man-whore who became exponentially more practiced as an adult. “Twelve. I started on her ‘project’ in mid-May. By August, I made sure she was not only on the committee but she was the chair.”

“And you were sixteen?”

I risk another glance at Britta. She’s gone ghost white, pale lips pressed together. “Yeah. I think what hurt most was that my mom knew I wanted more than empty sex. I found the courage to tell her that’s what I hated about being with AnnaBeth. But…”

“She set you up to have more of it.” Britta shakes her head, looking dumbfounded and numb. “A lot more.”

“A summer full, yes. Dad found out, of course. He clapped me on the back and congratulated me on my ‘hot dozen hussies.’ His words, not mine. Maxon had already escaped to college. Harlow probably knew something was up, but I did my best to shield her from everything ugly.” I sigh, wishing like hell I was at the end of the story.

“I don’t think she knows,” Britta assures.

One small blessing. If my sister knew, she would look at me like a monster. The same way I fear Britta is going to look at me by the time I finish.

“The only one of the committee members I was with more than the few times it took me to ‘convince’ them to give my mom a seat at the table was Julia. She came across as nice. She actually talked to me. She seemed to care.”

“So you didn’t mow her lawn?”

“I did. That was my cover story for all of them. A free mow, some conversation, a smile, an invite inside for a drink since it was so hot outside and…” I was between their legs in under thirty minutes.

“Didn’t any of them care that you were just a kid?”

“I was six feet tall, one sixty, with a full beard. A kid wasn’t what they saw. And these were people used to getting their way at someone else’s expense.”

“You should have called the police.”

Probably. “I was too ashamed. I couldn’t imagine going to school and everyone finding out I had cried rape.” Life in high school was already vicious enough, constantly fighting off guys who were already jealous of all the pussy I was getting. All I wanted to do was crawl out of my skin. “Julia came in the middle of the bunch. By then, the whispers had started. She knew why I was knocking on her door. Unlike the others, she didn’t make me go through the motions. She just sat me down and asked me how I was doing. How I felt. I don’t know what possessed me, but I told her that I wasn’t very happy.” I drag in a deep breath and let it out in a shudder. This part is going to be harder. “I told her I was lonely. She said she was lonely, too.”

“She connected with you emotionally. You thought she understood you?”

“Yeah.”

“But she still used you?”

“Absolutely.” I scrub a hand across my face and stand. “I thought I was in love with her and that she was the one person I could trust, who would always be on my side. She dumped me just before Halloween, laughing like it was a great joke because she had already replaced me. You know the rest.”

“Griff…” Britta stands, easing beside me, compassion welling in her blue eyes.

“Don’t cry for me, angel. I’ve cried enough.” It’s hard for me to admit that. “It’s over. And I admit I’ve let it fuck me up for far too long. When I met you, my first thought was that you were an angel.” A little smile creeps across my face.

“I thought you were the most handsome devil,” she whispers. “Your brother warned me…”

“But you didn’t listen. He warned me to leave you alone, too.” I shrug. “But I couldn’t. When I first kissed you, I was sure you were too good to be true. I guess… I was afraid to let myself believe you were beautiful, inside and out. That I could trust you with my whole self until it was too late.”

Her chin wobbles as she tries to hold in tears. I hope she doesn’t regret me for too long. What we’ve been though is gut-wrenching torture, but I wouldn’t trade my time with her for the world. She’s changed me, made me better. Maybe after this—someday—I can have a normal life. Oh, I’m still going to make my last-ditch pitch to win her. But I’m not holding my breath that she’ll say yes.

Now that she knows how fucked up I am, why would she ever marry me?

“Do you have any questions?” My voice almost sounds normal.

She frowns, searches her thoughts as she holds back tears. “Now that you’ve told me, do you feel any better?”

“Um…” How do I answer that when I feel as if I’m dying inside? “If you understand me better, I’m glad. But my adolescent shit cost me my son and the only woman I’ve ever loved. And trusted. I didn’t show it last weekend, but I do trust you, Britta. Sometimes I have to remember not to be an ass, that not everyone is out to get me. I just spent a lot of years feeling that way.” I press my lips together. Emotion clogs my chest, tightening my vocal cords. I grit my teeth to hold it back. “I know it’s good to unburden, as Keeley would say.”

“Does she know any of this?”

“I’ve never told a soul.”

She looks touched that I chose her. “Thank you for telling me. For trusting me.”

I can’t imagine ever telling anyone else. “I know it’s a lot to digest.”

“It is. But all of this helps me understand you.”

I nod. “Then, yeah, I feel better. You got a pen?”

Britta seems perplexed by my request when she meanders to the bar between her family room and kitchen. I follow as she produces a pen and a pad of paper.

I set the pad down again and withdraw the document relinquishing my parental rights. With my chest buckling, I grip the pen tightly and sign my name everywhere her lawyer has laid a tape flag. My hands are shaking when I set the pen aside and leave the paper behind. “There. Now you’re free of me.”

“Oh, god. Griff…”

I don’t know what she’s thinking exactly, except that she’s feeling sorry for me. I don’t want her making decisions on that kind of emotion. This is the last time I’m ever going to lay my heart on the line. She’s the only woman I’ll ever do this for.

“Shh. I’ve said everything I came to say except two things: First, if Jamie ever wants to know his father, I will welcome him with open arms. I’ll be the best dad I know how.”

“You were wonderful with him.” I hear the tears in her voice.

I look up to find them pouring down her face. I wipe a path dry with my thumb, more than grateful when she doesn’t flinch awa

y. “I love him. Would you tell him that for me?”

She doesn’t answer, just dissolves into sobs that shake her entire body.

I want to take her in my arms, soothe her, kiss her, tell her everything will be all right. But I won’t lie to her.

“Angel… Don’t do this.” Please don’t make it harder. “I’m not worth it.”

“Don’t say that.” She lays her hand on mine and clasps our fingers together.


Tags: Shayla Black More Than Words Erotic