Page 42 of Trouble

Melina sucks in a sharp breath, hiccuping. “Jason is going to sue you.”

I shake my head, my shoulders tensing. Of course this is about Jason.

“What does that have to do with your brother?”

“Did you hear me? He’s going tosueyou. You stepped in and helped me, and look what happened—I’m not worth it; you should have?—”

A flash fire of anger ignites in my veins. “Should havewhat? Let him hurt you?” I grit out, my words far too harsh for her fragile state. “Fuck that. Let him breathe another moment without knowing the kind of fear he instilled in you? Also wasn’t happening. And if you hadn’t been there, I’d have done a hell of a lot worse.”

Disbelief flashes across her tear-streaked face. “Why? You barely know me. Why do you care so much?”

Fuck it. This time I don’t hesitate to pull her against my chest. With one arm around her back and one hand tangled in her hair, I tug so she’s forced to look up at me. “Stop with that. I cared the moment I met you. It’s impossible not to care about you.”

“Because I’m weak,” she whispers.The devastation in her tone is what breaks me.

“You are not weak because someone took advantage of you.” I lean my forehead against hers, inhaling her sweet scent. “You are not weak because you’ve been hurt.”

“I wasn’t strong enough to fight back,” she mumbles.

Gut lurching, I confess, “Neither was I.”

She pulls back a fraction, her misty green eyes growing wide.

I’ve never told a soul what happened all those years ago, and I had no intention of ever sharing, but we both need this. Tugging her back into my chest, I hold her tighter. Fuck. I won’t be able to get it out if she’s looking at me.

“My father left when my sister was still a baby, and for years, the only thing my mother worried about was working to put food on the table and keeping a roof over our heads. When I was old enough to help out, I did. I worked at the fire station, I bused tables, I delivered newspapers, I caddied at the golf club. Anything to make a buck.” I cough out a laugh. Damn, some of those jobs were a blast. Others were hell. “Cade lived at the hockey arena. Back then, he was hoping to go pro. We were both insanely busy, and while all our friends—his friends, really—were out partying on the weekends, we were focused on our goals: For me, taking care of my family; him, hockey.”

Melina pushes back, and I take the hint, releasing my hold on her, but I keep my attention averted as she settles beside me, propping herself up on the edge of my desk.

“My mother cleaned for a wealthy woman in town. She was kind toher, and over the years, they’d become friends. The woman was all alone, so my mom started including her in our Sunday dinners. The woman got sick, and during my senior year of high school, she passed away. It wasn’t until my mom got a call a few weeks later that we discovered she’d left everything”—I peer down at Melina—“and I meaneverything, to my mother. Suddenly, I had the means to go to college and I didn’t have to work three or four jobs at a time. We had money for new clothes for my sister, and for the first time I could remember, my mother could breathe easy. We were all just…I don’t know, lighter, I guess.”

For as well as I’ve kept this story locked in a vault for all these years, the words are tumbling out easily now. Melina is the only person I’ve ever met who makes me want to bare my soul. “I went to college the following fall, and things were great. My mom even started dating, which was something she didn’t have the time for or interest in before. She met a guy, and it got serious pretty quick. It was a relief, knowing she and Liv had a man around. Honestly, everything was so great that year.”

My chest tightens, and my breaths get shallow here. Things were so good then. I don’t even let myself think of that time anymore. It’s too painful to reminisce about what I can never have again.

“Cade and I both moved home the summer after our freshman year of college, and for the first time in my life, I had the time to just hang out. We’d go to the beach and hit up the bars. We weren’t old enough to drink, but even just sitting and having a burger and soda felt like a freedom I’d never known in this town.”

Hands clenched, I will my heart to beat steadily as I dive into the worst part.

“That following spring, my mother and my sister were out of town to look at colleges, but I’d come home for some reason or another. My mom’s boyfriend had stayed behind, and because I liked the guy, I hung around and had dinner with him one night. Everything was fine—” I swallow hard, forcing myself to lock eyes with her. Regardless of how painful the memory is, she needs to hear this. “Until it wasn’t.”

Mouth turned down, she clutches my hand. “What happened?”

I take as deep a breath as the anvil resting on my chest will let meand keep my eyes on her. “I was bigger than him. Stronger than him. And none of that mattered.”

Melina’s face crumples, and her shoulders sag. “What did he do?”

Eyes closed, I block out the images that still haunt me when I let my guard down. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, I wasn’t weak, but it happened anyway. I was caught off guard. There was no way to anticipate what he did. I was mortified, humiliated, and…I don’t know.” I grip my neck as the weight on my chest turns crushing. “Guilty, I guess. I didn’t tell my mother. If I had, maybe we could have salvaged something. But I took off. He did too. He disappeared, but not before he wiped her bank accounts.” I drop my head back and blink away the emotion building behind my eyes. “She still has no idea why he left.”

My mother and sister came home to find both of us gone. I’d gone back to college like a coward and pushed everyone away, including Cade. Thought that if I ignored it, I’d forget the feel of that man’s hands on me as he held me down.

But when my mother called me crying, saying he’d stolen everything, I knew I’d never move on. She blamed herself. Said she never should have trusted him.

“My mother didn’t have money for groceries, let alone my college tuition. I came home and begged the chief for a job. I’ve been here ever since.”

My confession leaves me raw. Exhausted and strung out. Yet for the first time, the guilt of it all doesn’t feel so heavy. Like telling her that she’s not to blame for Jason’s attack, that she shouldn’t feel weak forallowingit—as if that’s a thing—has made me realize that I’ve been harboring the same kinds of thoughts.

“I haven’t written a word since he touched me.” Melina’s confession brings me out of my own head, and I find myself studying her. Eyes worn, face etched with defeat. She’s so broken. “It’s been months since he first laid a hand on me, and—” Her voice cracks, and I swear I could kill the man. I should have squeezed tighter. Should never have let go. Her eyes meet mine. “I had this journal. It was so worn the leather felt like my favorite sweater. It would soothe me if I simply touched it.” She offers me a sad smile. “It had every song I’d ever thoughtinto existence in it. Ten years of doodles.” She shakes her head and blinks away a few tears. “All of it gone because he didn’t get his way.”