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His shoulders visibly tightened. “I would prefer not to be naked in the shower when I tell you.”
“Are you afraid that I’ll hit you again?” I smirked. “Honestly, I’m not sure what happened. I normally don’t attack people. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry before.”
“I deserved it. I was a fucking prick to you, all because I thought you’d left me to die.”
The conversation was getting intense, and I had nowhere to go if I needed some breathing room. “Let’s finish up, then I’ll make us something to eat.”
A heavy silence hovered over us for the rest of our shower. One that threatened to rip my heart out. The few things Kane had already talked about gutted me, and thinking that I was responsible for what he’d lived through shredded me. Maybe I could make his life better, but he had to tell me the truth in order for me to try.
Half an hour later, we were dressed again. Kane cleaned the kitchen table with Clorox wipes before we sat down to eat the grilled cheese sandwiches I’d prepared. It was a good thing Kane wasn’t a picky eater because I wasn’t the best cook.
“Where were we?” I took a bite of my food, glancing at him.
“You were asking who branded us.” He wolfed down the sandwich, then went for the second one I’d made for him.
“And?”
“Since you started to rebuild your life, have you ever heard of the Light of David?”
I paused mid-chew, racking my brain to see if the name sounded familiar, but I came up empty.
“No, I haven’t. What’s the Light of David?”
Kane set his half-eaten grilled cheese on the paper plate and drank some of his water. He wiped his mouth, and I had the feeling he was stalling.
“Kane?” My heart pounded against my ribs while I waited for him to continue.
“Are you sure you want to know? Once I tell you, I can’t undo it. I can’t protect you from the pain of the truth.” His hands fell to his lap, his gaze full of fear.
“I love that you want to protect me again, but I can’t heal unless I know. Hopefully, it will shake up my brain, and I can finally be free from the amnesia. I would rather have bad memories than none at all. Whether my past was fun or agonizing, it made me who I am today. A fighter. Strong. Kane, I’m ready.” I reached over, pulled one of his hands from his lap, and squeezed it. “For whatever reason, I feel better that you’re with me when I find out.”
Kane glanced at me, his chest visibly moving with his breaths. It killed me that this was so difficult for him, but there was no other choice but to drag him through hell with me.
“Brie …”
ChapterThirty-One
Brie
My heart pounded so hard I heard it in my ears as I held my breath, waiting for him to tell me.
“Brie, we were born into a cult.” The color drained from his cheeks, and he pulled his hands away.
Nothing had prepared me for the undiluted wave of foreboding as my world tilted on its side, and my brain scrambled to make sense of what had just spilled out of his mouth. “What? Like a satanic one?” Kane had shattered every idea of who I thought I was—educated, caring, and an overall decent human being. I blinked at him a few times, trying to clear my head. Maybe I hadn’t heard him correctly, but I knew that I had.
“No. The cult we were in had screwed-up religious beliefs.” His tone bordered on curt, but I reminded myself that talking about this was difficult for him.
“Like what?”
Kane leaned back in his chair and stared at his lap. “For instance, we weren’t allowed to touch anyone of the opposite sex unless an elder was around. A few times a month, one female would be tied down and everyone would take their turns fucking her.”
I slammed my eyes closed. “Gang rape?” I’d learned enough about crime from watching television after Mom and Dad took me home with them.
“Basically, yeah. When a guy turned fifteen, they were a part of the rituals. When a girl reached puberty, they were also included. Any girl that was a virgin … there was an entire ritual around her.”
I reached for my water and gulped some down, my thoughts reeling from what he’d already told me, but I still had a ton of questions. “How old were you when you helped me run?” I held my breath, afraid to hear the answer.
“Fifteen.”
