Page 51 of Never Till Now

I reach out and rub her foot. Her expression holds nothing but emptiness with the truth behind her haunting look. My heart tugs with desperation to take the pain away. But how the hell do I go about helping her in this situation? What the hell can I even do if I’m right about the sickening thoughts I imagine are passing through her mind? I feel my own eyes sting. Her heavy breath cuts through the silence and her shoulders give a small shrug. I nod and doubt it’s fucking helpful, but it’s all I can manage. Lauren crawls to my end of the couch and curls in my lap. My arms wrap around her as I place a kiss in her hair.

“I know you have questions.” Her voice is a broken whisper.

“I haven’t pressed about your past, but I can’t leave without some type of explanation.” My hand runs through her hair, trying to soothe her. “We don’t have to talk tonight.”

We stay silent until the city lights are the only thing left lighting up her place. Her breathing becomes more even, and I peek my head to the side to see if she is asleep.

“Ask me.” Her voice cracks and she clear’s her throat.

It shreds me to know I’m about to hear a painstaking answer. “How old were you?”

“Ten.” She swallows. “Ella had just turned twelve. She and I shared a room.”

Ten? That’s three fucking years older than my niece. If anyone tried anything with Mal, they wouldn’t live to see their prosecution. I hold Lauren tighter and rest my chin on the top of her head.

“That bitch. You have no idea how bad I want to go find her in that downtown crowd.” As if it’s the foster children’s fault her husband is locked away.

I’m now the one completely speechless. I flash back to the night we lay in front of my large windows and how Lauren tensed when I made a joke about virginity, making my round more eventful than her first time.

“She didn’t do what he did. Ella and I were too young and scared to speak up when she acted clueless to the authorities.”

“She’s just as fucking guilty.”

“Probably. I’m sure she was aware that he’d sneak into our room, but Stuart had a way to make sure we didn’t dare make a sound.” Her voice trails off at the end. “It only went on for a few months until he was caught.”

I run a hand through my hair, knowing we can’t go back from this. This friendship thing has dug another foot into my heart. I know that no matter how we end, there are things you can’t forget.

“I take it you shut down for the next few years.”

“Until university, actually.” She pulls the blanket up higher and tucks her arms under. “Rachel got me drunk one night and, for some reason, I gave her a briefing of Stuart. She knew how to fix it. Once I learned the power of controlled pleasure…” She pauses and forces a small laugh. “Here you and I are.”

“Did you go to therapy?” It’s not my place to ask, but I can’t help it.

“I had a couple sessions, but I moved to another place, and I think someone stopped driving me.”

“Did you keep in contact with Ella?”

“No. I was ten and traumatized. We got rehomed again and I can’t remember her last name.”

The way she throws out the word rehomed bottoms out my lungs. Rehomed is a word someone uses for a puppy, not a child. She relaxes into me, twisting her ring.

“Where’d you get the ring?” I change the subject, hoping she’ll lighten up a tad.

She sighs. “There were two.” Okay, maybe this wasn’t a good topic switch. “They were the first gifts I had ever received from a foster home. Before the trauma house, I had a small birthday party at the church my foster people attended.” I notice how she says foster people. “I never grew up celebrating my birthday, so I was excited. Anyway, I don’t want to rant, but I received two gold bands from an elderly lady at the church.” She smiles and looks down at the ring.

“The other one had a small pink stone on it. The rings used to fit on my index finger, but I’ve grown since I was nine.” She laughs softly to herself. “I was in the shower without the rings and when I came out, the social worker was there to take me.” She shudders and I place a kiss on the top of her head. “For an unknown reason, a few of us kids were put into another home. That’s when I was placed at Mabel’s. I could only find one ring on my dresser, and I knew some other kid had taken it. We didn’t have time to look for the other ring and the foster lady said she’d let me know if she found it.”

The weight of the world this woman carries is beyond compare. To turn out as a productive member of society at such a young age gives me no reason to ever complain or give her an excuse about my life. My instinct is to apologize for everything she’s been through. But I know her too well. I know saying that will cause her to throw her guard up because it’s not my place to say sorry. Or she’d run scared that I now pity her and will try to fix her. At least that’s the brief rundown she projected after the first time we hooked up.

“I’m proud that you stood up to Mabel today. Hell, she deserved that wicked punch I know you are capable of throwing, Lauren.”

“I wouldn’t call that standing up for myself.” Lauren’s body shakes against mine as she laughs. “I was in too much shock to do anything.”

“I’m sorry you lost that ring.” My voice is barely a whisper as I rub her arm.

“I’m glad I did.” She shifts in my lap to face me. Her demeanor alters into the well-rehearsed, guarded Lauren.

“Why is that?” I ask the question I’m not sure I want the answer to.