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“Abilene,” Zakar places a gentle hand on my knee, and I flinch, hating myself for it. “That wasn’t your fault.”
“How couldn’t it have been? I get told, all the time, how beautiful I am; of course, they were tempted.” My throat feels raw. “You were tempted. From the minute Levan brought me home, I saw it in all of your eyes.” I feel sick saying that, comparing them when they are nothing like my father and uncle.
“Enough!” Levan snaps, his anger all-consuming. “Don’t fucking compare us to them. They are sick in the head. Disgusting pigs who don’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. We”—his hands sweep around the three of them—“are nothing like those bastards. We want you, yes, but for more than your body. Your mind, your heart, your soul, they’re ours. Every fucking inch of this body, inside and out, belongs to us. Comparing what we want and feel for you to them is an insult unworthy of forgiveness.”
Tears fall from my eyes, and I want to stab myself in the heart for hurting him. Them. I didn’t mean to be so callous. I meant to make a point. I don’t know what to say, so I remain quiet. Biting my lip, absorbing the ache of the now-bruised flesh eases some of the pain inside my heart. Turning my head away from them, I close my eyes and allow the cool air to temper me, to absorb into me. The coldness has been what’s kept me alive for so many years.
Getting to my feet, I can tell Val doesn’t want to let me go. I press my head to the cool glass and stare down at the street below. I’m not sure how many stories up we are, but it’s enough that if I were to fall, I wouldn’t survive. I’d be a bloody stain on the ground below. Nothing more, nothing less. Far more than I deserve.
“I spent so many years dreaming of death, I never expected to want to live.”
“You do now.” Zak’s voice is flat.
Turning to face them, I lay it all out. Confess everything. “When you picked me up that day, I was so cold all I wanted to do was lie down in the ditch and go to sleep. Had you left me in that bathtub, I wouldn’t have come up. I’d have happily drowned. Now, I find myself staring down below, observing the specks of people walking around, like a storm isn’t brewing inside my body, contemplating whether the agony of hitting that cement would be worth the jump. Would I die immediately, or would I live long enough to regret my choice? Hurting you, saying something so wrong that you feel even an ounce of the agony I live with, makes me want to take that chance.”
“Don’t even fucking think about it,” Levan growls, his chin dipping towards his chest, prepared to pounce and follow after me if I do.
“That’s just it, those are the types of things I think about. I tried to make myself uglier. To scar my body, burn my flesh. I did everything I could to turn them away, and nothing worked. Nothing, and I hate myself for it. I hatethemfor it.” Chewing on my cheek, I stare down at my feet for a second, needing to get these next words right. “When I said you were like them, I didn’t mean predatory. I meant attracted. Unable to control it. The difference between the three of you and the two of them is that when you touch me, kiss me, just look at me, I want nothing more than to bask in your appreciation. To accept that I’m enough as myself. Last night, I felt safe for the first time in my life. I felt complete. As though the world had stopped spinning, and for once, I had everything I would ever need.”
Zak stands and strolls over to me, one hand on the glass next to my head and the other cupping my cheek. “You do. You have us just like we have you.” Smiling up at him, I close my eyes and breathe him in.
“I’ve never had that. Ever. And it terrifies me because it could be ripped away at any second.” Making them understand my messed-up mind is exhausting but worth every minute.
“Like your mother,” Val says as he stands.
“Like Yelena,” Levan echoes.
I nod at them, and it’s then I recognize something like guilt in Levan’s eyes. “What?” I ask him, and he seems surprised by my question. “You have a look…guilt. I know its embrace well enough to spot it on anyone, Levan. What is it?”
Shock isn’t a strong enough word for what he says next.
* * *
Levan
If I could have kept this secret for the rest of my life, I would have, but from the minute she started speaking, I knew she would recognize my guilt at betraying her. “You know I killed the men who hurt Yelena?” She nods; everyone has heard about my rampage. “How I learned of their part in her death wasn’t ethical.”
Zak and Val embrace her from either side as I kneel at her feet. She doesn’t need to learn everything, but just enough to realize that I’ve been the man she’s confessed to for months. “After I finished with them, I forced Father Marcum to allow me to hear confession.” Confusion narrows her eyes. “I wanted to help the people in the poorest neighborhoods of Poti. The ones who never would be able to find the kind of justice they deserved.”
She puts it together almost immediately. “You listened. You knew. You heard every word I spoke for months.” Accusation taints her tone, and I hate what it’s going to do to her. “You knew how sick I felt. How much I hated myself. The blame and guilt I’ve carried for years because of what they were doing to me.”
“Yes.” I hang my head in shame. Never in my life have I been so vulnerable to another person, but with Abi, I know I must put it all on the line. There’s no holding back anymore. “I’ve wanted to kill them from the first time I heard your voice. I’ve wanted to burn them alive and listen to their screams of agony, knowing I was there because of you.”
“Why didn’t you? Why have you let me…” Her voice cracks and I feel sick.
Getting to my feet, I tear the robe off her body and cup her face in both of my hands. “Because there were others who were worse off.” How much she must hate me.
“Collette Vickers.” I confirm the name. The girl was raped by her adult brother. “Nielle Kinzenbach.” I nod. The infant was drowned by her mother after the woman put cigarettes out on her body every day since her birth. Her sister confessed to wanting to kill her mother; I did it instead. “Zurab René.” I nod again. The boy was taken off the streets by a pimp and forced to service other men. “They were all children.”
“They couldn’t help themselves,” I tell her, wishing she would understand why they came first.
“I get it.” My head lifts at her comment. “I hate you and I love you for all of it because I didn’t deserve to suffer, either, but those babies, you were their dark knight. I can’t fault you for that.”
A smirk plays across my lips as my head lowers. “You love me.”
“I also hate you.”
“But you love me.” She rolls her eyes at me, and I find I like this playful side between us.
