Page 92

She drugged me.

Another nod.

“How many times?”

She forced me.

“I-I didn’t—fuck.” I weave my fingers into my hair and pull.

Something flashes across Jordie’s face and she looks like she’s seen a ghost.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“Sorry?”

She nods once, taking a few steps towards me but pauses when her hand reaches out.

More of this painful silence lingers, and the words still won’t leave my throat. Her hand that’s hovering between us hurts to look at. I want her to touch me. I want her gentle hands healing what’s cracked and fucking broken inside not outside.

Tell her. Tell someone.

Tell her what? I cheated on you for five years to get high?

I mindlessly trudge over to the bed and sit. Head in hands and after a few seconds, the bed dips beside me.

“What happened, Kain?” Her voice is soft. So fucking soft it summons tears to my eyes.

Why can’t I fucking speak?

Jordie sighs, then says, “It was a convent. St Anton’s. Everything is a lie. They were grooming us. Preparing us to be incubators for future victims of their delusions.” Every word is confident, sure. She shakes her head. Face deep in thought as she looks down at her twiddling thumbs before huffing a laugh. “I thought I believed in God once, but these people are just after control and trust by spreading lies. The people of this town are victims and I—” She turns towards the bed and pulls the book I hid for her that night Heath followed me and her here, then places it on the bed and sits. “All of it is bullshit, Kain.” She runs her finger along the lace of her shorts. “I promised myself that I would never let anyone control me again when I came back. That this was mine, not theirs.”

Silence.

The drugs are wearing off and thoughts—feelings—rush through me. Everything at once.

She just opened up to me. As if it was so fucking easy for her.

So why is my tongue still tied?

I’m dirty. If I tell her, we’ll just be back at square one. It’s unforgivable.

“She—” Breathe. Jordie’s head snaps towards me, but I can’t fucking look at her. It’ll make this more difficult. She’ll be the first one to know the truth, and what if she doesn’t believe me again. Then what? I wanted it. I did. I put my dick in her. She didn’t have to ask, she just expected it, I expected it. I knew what I needed to do. “The first time, she gave me what I wanted—a high.” Every word is slow, interrupted by trying to calm my breathing. “I didn’t know that at the time she was going to… force me to sleep with her. I couldn’t do anything. I was too high—on the verge of passing out, I didn’t know what was happening. And she forced herself on me.”

My throat tightens. That’s what happened. I didn’t want it. She forced me.

“She didn’t want my money anymore. I couldn’t bear not having you, not knowing where you were, so I got high again, to the point I could barely see, and I let her do whatever she wanted. All so I could get weed to keep you off my mind.” Breathe in. Breathe out. I swallow. “I asked her not to. I didn’t want to. I never wanted to. But I needed to keep you off my mind and that probably makes me the worst fucking person ever.

“I told her to leave me alone. To accept my money. I refused to sleep with her. She went and told Heath that I… I forced myself on her. And that night, he beat me so bad I passed out. That was the worst it ever got. And if I died, then who would’ve protected you?” My whole fucking body is trembling. “The morning you returned was the last time I slept with her. I saw her the other day and stole the last of my weed from her so I still have a supply.” I shrug. “She told me I’d regret doing it. But my only regret is sleeping with her.”

Jordie’s breath hitches, and I have to force out my next words through the painful lump in my throat; the tears that are lining my eyes. I can’t look at her, I don’t deserve to.

“I’m sorry, Jordie. I wish I never did it.”

Then something happens that melts all tension and doubt from my body—she climbs onto my lap. Her chocolate scent settles in my nose as she wraps her arms around me and my body breaks out in trembles as my muscles relax, tears silently spilling.

She sits, not moving a muscle and I don’t either, too afraid that if I do, she’ll disappear, and it’ll be Lacey in her place.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispers and my eyes squeeze shut, throat painfully cramping. Her hands reassuringly squeeze around my shoulders.