Page 84 of Ruthless Salvation
“You said you couldn’t,” he murmured, still grappling with shock.
The tears began to flow. “The doctors told me I couldn’t.” The words were barely audible as my throat constricted impossibly tight. I hadn’t even had time to process how I felt about the fact that they’d been wrong. That my body hadn’t been damaged beyond repair. I’d been given another chance.
“You were gonna keep my child from me?” His face contorted into something harsh and merciless.
He would never understand. How could he? He’d never known fear like me.
“You’re blowing up boats … He’ll be so angry … It’ll get us killed.”
“You said you trusted me,” he shot back.
“And what about you? You going to trust me?”
“Doesn’t look like I can. You disappear if I turn my back.”
“Don’t throw stones, Torin. I’m not the only one running.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’re running every day of your life. You push people away. That’s running, Tor, just a different kind. Why? What keeps you getting back in that ring to fight? You don’t need the money. Who are you really fighting?” By the time I finished, I was pointing and shouting, desperate to defend myself.
The door to the locker room creaked open. Neither of us budged, our turbulent stares locked on one another. The intruder must have sensed they were interrupting and slowly backtracked, leaving us alone again.
Torin swallowed harshly before speaking in a brittle tone that cleaved my heart straight from my chest.
“There was a guard at the detention facility. I was still small at sixteen, and he was so much bigger than me. When he started to do favors for me—extra food or extended rec time outside—I figured he was a good ally to have. Until he decided payment was due for the services he’d provided.”
Torin lifted his gaze to me, holding nothing back. All the hatred and terror. The helplessness and agonizing pain—both mental and physical. He showed me the jagged pieces of his soul, still tainted by the sticky residue of the nightmare he’d experienced.
I’d known Torin was damaged. That was no secret. But to hear how devastating the trauma had been was more than I could bear.
I had to lower myself to the bench beside me before my legs followed my heart and plummeted to the floor.
“I take it you get the picture without the need for more detail.”
I nodded, fighting back a particularly vicious wave of nausea.
“You wanted to know my history with Jolly,” Tor continued. “The assaults had been going on for about a month when Jolly started to catch on. He saw the way I tried to avoid the other guard. Jolly’s not a fan of perverts. One day, he strolled over and asked point blank if the other man was forcing himself on me. I took a chance and told him the truth. That was the last day I ever saw my tormentor. Two weeks later, rumors surfaced that the man had been found washed up on a riverbank. When I started working for the family, the first thing I did was give Jolly a job with a hell of a lot more pay than he’d been getting. He’s been with me ever since. You wanted my truth, Stormy Lawson or Alina Karpova, or whatever your name is—you have it. You know more about me than any other person on this planet. Take it or leave it.”
He turned to leave, and panic engulfed me.
I couldn’t let him go, not like this. Not at all.
He’d taken the risk of a lifetime by telling me what he had and endangering his family for me, so I could summon the courage to expose my greatest shame and deepest sorrow.
“I was pregnant before,” I blurted, the words sticky and uncomfortable on my tongue. “I was pregnant with his child, and I…” A sob escaped. Then another.
I had to keep going and get it all out.
“I couldn’t protect it,” I forced between heaving sobs in a voice ravaged by heartbreak. “My baby … I lost my baby…”
Present
I knewthe asshole had been abusive. That was bad enough. I hadn’t fully considered the breadth of the possible implications. I had avoided thinking about the particulars of what Stormy might have suffered through because it was too damn maddening. Storm didn’t have that luxury. She’d had to live every agonizing minute.
I felt like an insensitive prick.
I knew better than anyone what it was like to have a past that haunted you. To feel tarnished compared to those around you because they’d never known depravity. That sort of darkness marked a person. Changed them. And those of us who had experienced it were more apt to sense it in others.