Page 80 of The Pleasure of Panic

“Yup,” I say. “That’s how I did it.”

“Did he rape you?”

“More times than I can count.”

Finn’s body was stiff before, but now it’s rigid. Like death.

“Until I came back from winning that world championship. I was seventeen then. And he came at me, drunk. I was riding high. Feeling powerful, and angry, and… So I took him out. Kicked his fucking ass. Broke all his fingers for touching me. Kicked him in the balls until he was writhing in pain on the floor, unable to even move. And then I called the cops, filed a report and, well, the rest you can figure out. My mother cried, begged me to…”

Finn waits. But this is the hardest part for me to say. I can tell him I was raped, no problem. But what came after… that’s the part that hurts. “Begged you to what?”

I shrug. “Stay quiet, what else? She said they’d come after me. After her.”

“Did they?”

“Of course they did. They killed her two days after he was found guilty and sent to prison.”

“And you? What did they do to you?”

“They tried to do things to me, but…” I smile. Because that’s a moment I take out often. That memory of that has gotten me through so many, many hard times. “Well, I’m still here.”

“So Declan…”

“I dunno, Finn.”

“Do you… know me?”

It would be a strange question coming from anyone else. But it’s not coming from him. He is Irish Mob. I am too. By default, but still. That connection is there.

“Murphy,” I say, thinking about his last name. “No, I don’t think so. I was already back in Montreal the day the indictment came down for Kelly in Philadelphia. When my grandpa died he left me a key to a storage unit back near our old house. I went there to gather up the lost pieces of my life, and then I just… disappeared. Because he didn’t just leave me money, he left me a new ID. A new name, a new past, a new everything.”

“So your sealed juvenile file?”

“It’s not me. None of that is real.”

“What was your old name?”

“Izett Gery.”

“Izett,” he says, trying it out. “It fits you.”

“I know it’s stupid to keep my same first initials. And I was fully aware that my new last name is an anagram of my old one, but it’s what I had. It’s what my grandpa left me. So I took the gift, left Canada, and started over as Issy.”

He thinks about this for a while. “You’re not surprised that Caleb found you, are you?”

I shrug again, then decide to just admit it. Why not? Why not embrace the truth? It gives you power over your fears. So I say, “In a way… I think I’ve been waiting for this day.”

“And you still want to run?”

“Well.” I huff out something that might be a laugh. “I’m not stupid. I know he’s going to win, especially now that he’s out of prison and he’s found me. So running makes sense. Staying?” I say. “Fighting? That’s a death wish.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, hugging me tighter. “I get it. Revenge isn’t worth it sometimes.”

“Besides,” I say. “I think I already got my revenge.”

“By sending him to prison?”

“No. That wasn’t me. That was the government. I got my revenge when I became the person I was meant to be. When Izett Gery finally became Issy Grey. When I wrote my book it had a story in there, kinda like this one, but not this one. And people responded to it. They saw strength in me. Which made me believe in myself. Made me take on the role of helper. So I started those courses and began speaking. And that’s the best I can do, right? Just be me, the way I was meant to be me. And go on. So I think success is my revenge.”