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“Because you fought your fears and took risks. You bared yourself literally and emotionally to Blake, and despite his reaction, you still chose to be vulnerable with Tucker.”
“I should have let Tucker in years ago.”
“I think it meant more now, after what happened today.”
I hope so, for Tucker’s sake. I fall asleep, pondering that thought.
MARK
It’s two am. Charlie’s sleeping, her mouth forming a perfect “o”. I’ve been listening since Tucker and Lila left, and I’ve still not heard Blake’s truck start.
I ease out of bed, noiselessly pulling a sneaker on my left foot. I slip out of the room and peek out the window. He’s laying on the hood of his truck, his arm over his eyes.
I quietly open the front door and make my way down the steps. He gets up immediately, sliding to the ground and waiting as I approach. The night air is cool and damp as I hobble toward him, my crutches crunching in the gravel as I consider whether or not to beat his ass.
Not yet, I decide. I want to hear what he has to say first. I study his face, noting the bruise along his right jaw and making a mental note to compliment Tom on a solid hit.
“You gonna punch me too?” he asks, shoving his hands into his front pockets.
I’m not sure if he thinks a one-legged guy on crutches can’t flatten him or if he knows he deserves it. I’m good either way. “Undecided. Why are you here?”
“I just want to talk to her. I need to explain.”
“Go ahead.” His eyes fly to mine. “Let’s hear this amazing explanation you have for making her feel like a repulsive monster.”
His spine stiffens. “Jesus. That’s not it. That’s not it at all.”
“As explanations go, that one needs a lot of work.” I survey him, taking in his defeated posture and downturned mouth.
He lifts a hand and runs it through his shaggy blond hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “I wasn’t expecting what she said, what she showed me. You didn’t tell me they tortured and mutilated her.” His accusing tone rings in the quiet night.
I cock my head. “I told you I’d only give you the basics. You knew they kidnapped her. You knew they had her for eleven days, eleven goddamn days. What did you think they did, throw her a party? I told you she was raped. I told you they brutalized her. The rest wasn’t mine to tell. Charlie only shares that information with people she trusts not to see her differently.” I stare at him. “Clearly, she overestimated you.”
He blanches under my glare. “I was shocked, okay? I didn’t know people actually behaved so savagely. I mean, branding? Who does that? You hear stories on the news, but you assume they’re sensationalizing things. You don’t think that stuff happens to real people. People you know.” He pauses. “When she showed me her back, I was horrified by what they’d done to her. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to hug her, but I knew not to touch her. Saying I was sorry didn’t seem right. She saw my face and asked me to take her home. I kept trying to find the right thing to say, but the longer the silence went on, the worse I felt. I handled it badly, and I need to apologize.”
“So that’s why you’re here? To relieve your guilt?”
“It’s not about me feeling guilty. I want to tell her I’m sorry for how I made her feel.”
“You’re right. This isn’t about you. Charlie’s asleep, and I’m not waking her up for your sorry ass.”
“I’ll wait, then.”
I look at him skeptically. “All night?”
“All weekend, if I have to. I need to make this right.”
I purse my lips. “She’s fine. We’ve got this. Take your guilty conscience and leave.”
“I don’t want to leave. I want her to give me another chance.”
“To do what? Twist the knife a little more?”
“I like Charlie,” he says, his expression bleak. “I just want a chance to tell her I’m sorry.”
“And if she tells you to leave?”
He stands taller. “If I explain things, I don’t think she will.”
