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Maybe I’m the bitch.
His anger is explosive as he tears through my apartment, ripping open doors and shoving things off shelves. He retrieves a knife from the kitchen and starts slicing open the couch cushions and pulling out the stuffing like something might be hidden within them, all while I stand in the bathroom doorway watching.
When his gaze hits me, I lower my eyes, only then noticing what the pictures are of.
They aren’t ofhiscrimes.
They’re of mine.
My lungs seize as I bend to pick up a few of the photos, sifting through them while my throat clogs.
They’re photos of him. Naked. Some with me on top of him, a smirk plastered on my face. He isn’t conscious.
Oh my God.
I… I did this.
I drop the photos and try to suck in air, but all I can manage is a wispy gasp. Alik is still slicing apart my cushions when I go to him and place my hand on his back as gently as I can.
He turns to me with a glare. “She said I would never find the photos, but your father would. Can you think of where he would look?” Alik turns back to the couch like he’s just realizing no one would ever search for clues to my disappearance in my couch cushions. I don’t blame him for being destructive. I think he’s just angry. Heshouldbe.
“Alik…” I choke on the word so much that I don’t know how I’ll ever manage more.
When he turns to me again, he shakes his head. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. Just help me figure this shit out.”
I nod more times than are probably necessary. “I will. No matter how long it takes, I promise you, I’ll find them.”
“We can’t be in your apartment long. It isn’t safe.”
“Right,” I say, wringing my hands. Being here reminds me of the first time we sat on the couch he just destroyed. I told him I couldn’t be in a relationship, that I did bad things when I did drugs. At the time, I thought the drugs kept my medication from working. Now I think they just made me slip away, handing the reins to … her.
That night, Alik had said that I couldn’t possibly scare him off. But that wasn’t true. If he’d known the truth, he would’ve ran. He should have.
“I should’ve told you the truth about everything… I’m so sorry,” I whisper, feeling the regret in my bones.
He stares at me a moment before running his hand through his dark hair and sighing. “I wouldn’t have told me. And if you had, you’d be dead. So don’t be sorry.”
“I raped you.” Saying the words aloud makes them somehow even more real. I have to close my eyes when shooting pain pierces my stomach.
Alik cups my chin gently and lifts it so I’ll open my eyes to look at him. For a moment, he’s serious. Not necessarily angry, but serious.
But then his lips quirk up. Life lights up his eyes. “You’re fucking crazy.” He shakes his head like he’s wrapping his mind around the extent of it. “But if you knew even half of my truth, you would hate me more than I could ever hate you.”
“I want to knoweverythingabout you,” I say, leaning into his touch. “Please. I know you can’t really trust me. I understand why, but … don’t ever think I wouldn’t accept you. I don’t care what crimes you’ve committed.”
“You have a bit of a reputation for snitching.”
“That was different. And youtoldme to go to the police. So what does?—”
His head dips so his mouth can press to mine, effectively silencing me. When he pulls away, he takes in a deep breath, hiseyes still closed. It hits me how sunken his face looks, how dark the bags under his eyes have become.
“You look exhausted,” I whisper, caressing his jaw.
His eyes open, but he doesn’t say anything.
“You should sleep.”
He gives me a lazy smile. “Why, you feeling horny?”
