Page 31 of Born to Scar

“Yeah, I’ve only been interested in one person for years. But she never gave me the time of day.” He brings his lips to my temple. “Fucking years…until she told me to find her sober one night at a bar, thinking I wouldn’t remember it. Joke’s on her; I remembered.”

Cam chuckles. He remembers, too.

“You made me watch you with all those girls always hanging all over you,” I mutter.

Jared laughs. “Hey, if you weren’t going to do it, I had to find others who would.”

“You were really good at hiding it.”

He shakes his head. “Ask around, Indy. It’s the most obvious I’ve ever been. Everyone around us knew. Even Mik.”

My heart jumps. That is the most insane thought ever, but thinking back over the years, he only ever outwardly flirted with me. He never asked those other girls out or to sleep with him or to hang all over him. They did all the work. Most of the time, he looked bored.

“It’s clicking, isn’t it?” he muses.

Slowly, I nod. “Yeah.”

Jared’s fingers feather up my thigh and slide to the tattoo at my breastbone. I groan in frustration. “Can I talk about anything other than that?”

“You know, I want to know,” he whispers. Will he be okay? I don’t want him to spiral; though, with Cam here, I don’t see that happening. As if he can hear what I’m thinking he adds, “I’ll be okay.”

“It’s Medusa,” Cam states the obvious, making us laugh again. “What?” he asks, confused.

“When someone gets Medusa tattooed, it usually means…” I trail off.

“They’re a sexual assault survivor,” Jared finishes, and I nod.

Cam tenses beside me, going utterly still, not noticing my eyes cut to Jay. He gently shakes his head in a silent plea. Of course, I listen. It’s not my business to tell.

“She’s meant to symbolize empowerment and to combat victim-blaming. You know, she turns assholes into stone and shit.”

I spare an actual mythology lesson no one needs. But my attempt at lightening the mood fails miserably.

“Indy, she’s front and center. What does she mean to you?” Jared asks.

I squeeze my eyes closed. “She’s my proverbial middle finger to the world. She’s my protector. She reminds me never to go back there. She lets those who see her know that I have been through hell and nothing they can do will break me.”

“Please, tell me,” Jared pleads. He was open with me about his abuse, and it’s the least I can do for him. They both deserve to know. I am the way I am because of this, after all.

“It’s a lot. Are you ready for it?”

It’s not something I would ever be ready to hear, but Jared nods. Cam still hasn’t moved.

“Cam?” I whisper.

“Does this have anything to do with your scars?” he bites out, and I nod.

“And Jenny,” I add.

He shakes his head and lets out a shuddered breath.

“He knows about Jenny?” Jared asks.

“Yeah. He had the driver who picked him up that night at the bar take me there when they found me walking after my bike was destroyed. He came back for me, and I was sitting in front of her headstone.”

“You were lying down, actually, like you wanted to sink into the earth with her.”

“Sometimes I feel like that.”