Page 134 of Make You Mine

My chest tightens.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything. But she seemed to be handling it so much better than I did. I don’t know what’s the extent of my father’s damage to her. But she did a good job of hiding it, didn’t she? You had no idea. I’m glad at least she kept you safe.” He straightens in his seat, his gaze hardening. “Wait. He never laid a hand on you, did he? ’Cause I’ll fucking bury him.”

I shake my head.

“The one good thing he did in his life.”

“Everything clicks now,” I tell him. “How my mother kept pushing me to be independent once you left. How she wanted me out of the house as soon as I moved to another college after the NJ State incident, forcing me to attend one farther away and moving to the dorms. Then getting me my own apartment when I landed my first adult job.”

“She was taking care of you in her own way, Madelyn,” Kayden reassures me. He draws closer to me and places a hand over mine. “And I’m fucking grateful for her, because I shouldn’t have left you. But I fucked us up with that tape incident, and I couldn’t dig myself out of it. One way or another, I was being shipped out of your life.”

He takes a deep breath, and we’re silent for a few moments. This is taking a toll on him—and on me, too.

There is so much to process.

I take the lead this time.

“I’m so sorry that you suffered for so long and had to keep quiet.” I reassure him that I understand his words, and I’m not judging, that I’m here for him. “I wish I had known earlier. I wish I were more attentive.”

I was so focused on myself, my pain, and disliking Kayden that I couldn’t see past the bad boy mask he was wearing. There are no masks between us anymore.

“You did nothing wrong, Little Demon. I wanted you to open your eyes, to see that being weak would get you nowhere, because that’s what I was taught all my life. But I messed up, and I still keep fucking up. Look at us now. There is no excuse. This is on me.”

“Let’s leave the past in the past,” I say. We have all the time in the world to talk about the past, to dwell on it. I’m more interested in the present. In understanding this. “All this time you chased me, you called yourself Devon. How does he connect to this?”

“I wish I could give you a concrete answer about it.”

“Try.”

He runs a hand through his dark, inky hair.

“Ever since I was a kid, there have been small patches of memories that disappeared from my head. I can’t recall doing certain things. They’re like déjà vu. Things that I was sure I didn’t do, yet they felt familiar, repetitive even. I never thought it was weird. I never questioned it, didn’t have a reason to do so.”

I remain calm, wanting to hear his explanation.

“Sometimes, I would hear voices in my head, too. Especially after an argument with my dad,” he says. “There was one who would banter with me back and forth, argue with me even. You know, as kids, we have imaginary friends, so I never doubted it.”

I nod. I can relate to that.

“As I grew up, I was convinced these were intrusive thoughts. Repercussions of my father’s effect on me,” he says. “Most of the time, I shut them down. Sometimes, I would take a nap to dismiss them, and when I woke up, something would feel off.”

He stares at me, pausing, until I nod his way, wanting him to keep going.

“I’d have these weird dreams, too. I still don’t know how the college sex tape incident in college came to be. But it must have been the same way. I took the video, yes. I was horny and desperate to have you, knowing I shouldn’t, Maddy.”

I frown. I’m not sure how I feel about that. Flattered? Pissed? A combination of both?

“I was completely obsessed with you. That was a mistake on my part. The last thing I remember is falling asleep while watching your tape. I must have loaded it into your USB drive sometime during the night. My imaginary friend must have taken over me and pushed me to do it. I still don’t remember, but it’s what I have. Anyway, after I got sent away, I was okay. It was calm. These episodes of déjà vu were less frequent. Until I stole your diary, not long ago.”

My mouth forms an O.

Of course, that was him.

“I got this weird feeling,” he admits. “And then the threats started.”

“Wait. You got threats, too?” That is a revelation. How did he get threats if he’s claiming he did this? “How does that work?”

I never told him I did, but it’s the same. He was the one sending them to me.