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He takes my face in his hands, careful as he tips my head back to look at him.
He’s so beautiful.
“I’ll be right here when you’re done, okay?” I nod again, raising one of my hands to linger over his. “And then we’re going to go home and I’m going to run you a bath and wash your hair and feed you—I’m going to take care of you, like I always do.”
“Okay.”
“You’re so strong, Paloma.”
He kisses my forehead, lips lingering, nose tilting against my hair. And then he leaves. It’s only a few minutes and one hot coffee later that they bring in the detective to take my statement.
With Alessia holding my hand and Adam standing like a sentry beside me, I let the words I’ve held back for years spill forward.
About my mom, about the men in our house, about the cold frigid nights and my fear. I tell them about Ethan—how we met and what he did to me. I even explain that it’s why I broke up with Bennett the first time.
And I spare them no detail.
Afterward, the detective leaves. Adam stands in the corner, arms crossed, anger palpable—though I know it isn’t at me. It’s for what has happened to me. And yet, I can’t stop from saying, “I’m sorry.”
Adam shakes his head and steps forward. “Don’t apologize. Someone should have been protecting you. This isn’t your fault—”
“It’s complicated,” I whisper. Alessia eyes me with a firm shake of her head.
But it’s Adam who says, “You were fourteen, Paloma,” in a frustrated whisper as he sits down in the chair beside me. “You didn’t know any better and someone should have been watching out for you. Taking care of you.”
He stands and reaches out his arms, tentative but steady. I follow suit, allowing myself to step into them this time, letting Adam Reiner hug me. Alessia pets my hair, smoothing out the tangles slowly.
“You did nothing wrong. You’re okay, and you’re here—alive. And you’re telling us now. Bennett won’t let anything happen to you. Alessia won’t let anything happened to you.” He clears his throat, but it makes no difference in the garbled sound of his voice. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
This must be what having good parents would be like.
Chapter 71
NOW
Paloma
We drive back to Bennett’s dad’s home. Bennett sits up front with his dad, while Alessia sits with me in the backseat. She holds my hand, like a mother might.
After I finished my story, telling it quickly, mostly in order, I felt . . . drained. Talking about it wasn’t difficult for me, but it didn’t stop the exhaustion in the aftermath.
“Have you noticed the way you talk about these things?” Dr. Sutton said once, after I’d explained my mother briefly—what growing up was like for me. “It’s like they happened to someone else.”
Maybe it was easier that way. Maybe it was safer.
And maybe I knew it wouldn’t be like that with Bennett. With him I’m always vulnerable, my heart too soft and open because of the trust he’s spent nearly four years building. Which is why I’d avoided him after we left the interrogation room, hands tight to my sides, sticking close to Alessia and as far away from the hovering goalie as possible.
The clear hurt written across his face never faltered, even as his dad settled a hand on his shoulder to direct him out. Bennett had jerked away from him, angry and confused and frustrated in a way that was almost palpable.
No one speaks for the entire drive.
When we arrive in Beacon Hill, Adam opens the door and helps Alessia out, who turns around to help me. Bennett’s hand hovers by my waist when I almost fall trying to climb out—but he doesn’t touch me.
Which makes me feel worse.
Alessia pulls me away from the concerned Reiner men, her palm on my shoulder as she ushers me into the house.
“Go upstairs, and take all the time you need,” she commands lightly. “Do you want Bennett to come up and see you in a little while?”
