Page 147 of Trailer Trash

“Did you find out why she was in that office building? The one I followed her to last week?”

Okay... maybe I still care about Harlow a little.

“Yes. She started therapy there.” Atticus says, calm and factual.

“Therapy?” I say, my tone brimming with disgust. “For what?”

Atticus nods. “I hacked into their system and read her patient files. She told the therapist she was raped. She can’t get over it. The notes mention nightmares, panic attacks, and trouble being around men.”

“Raped?”

“Yes. She says the hospital owner’s son raped her.”

Me? I raped her. Bullshit.

I shoot to my feet.

“That pathetic…” I growl through my teeth.

I flip the lounger over, enraged. Atticus flinches and rounds his shoulders, curling into himself, but he doesn’t flee.

“Is she dating?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.” He shuts his laptop. “That’s all I have.”

I grab my wallet and pull out a wad of cash, paying him for his surveillance. I say nothing, which is fine with him. He leaves.

My heart thrums, loud and unrelenting. I am so goddamn pissed, I can barely stand it.

Now I’m a fucking rapist. Where does she get off calling me that?

Hell with her.

I march inside, angry. Our last time together was nothing but a bad memory for her. What the fuck? She came back. She told me she loved me. She wasn’t supposed to call it rape.

I could kill someone.

I swipe a lighter off the counter and flick it, creating a blue flame.

“I need to see her. Just for a minute.”

40

Harlow

We went our separate ways.

Finally.

One month after Killian disappears, I’m still not healing. It kills me every day not seeing him.

Him.

The coked-out maniac who scribbled madness in a notebook, raped me, and strangled his mother.