“Sweetheart, you need to calm down.” I try to pet her back to calm her ass down, although I’m not sure what the point of that is.
Tommy comes up to my right side with those fucking pills in his hands, ready to shove them down her throat again. “No! Get that shit out of her face.”
“You sure, Vince?” Fuck. It didn’t work. I’m not doing it again. It didn’t fucking work.
I look around the room and feel like a failure. I failed my Pops, Tommy, and especially Elle. It’s all my fucking fault.
“Please don’t hurt me,” she whispers.
“What do you remember, babe?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She’s quick to answer while shaking her head.
“Don’t lie to me.” My words are cold, and my grip on her tightens. “I’ve got all night sweetheart, but I’d rather you just tell me now.” It hits me in that moment, as I look past her to my Pops, she’s dead. Doesn’t matter what all she remembers. She’s dead.
“I remember,” she gasps and holds the book tighter. She tries to speak again, “the woods.” I wasn’t expecting that.
“What about 'em?” I ask.
“How we,” she swallows and keeps her eyes closed tight, “how you.” She breathes in deep trying to settles her breath, “took me in the woods.”
Oh, fuck that! Anger consumes me and adrenaline rushes through me.
“Took you?” I raise my voice. “As in, fucked you?” She visibly recoils at my anger, and she tries to get out of my arms again. “No, no, sweetheart, that shit did not happen.” This is not fucking happening. Her memory comes back and it’s some shit that makes me a god damned villain. Something I didn’t even do!
“I--” she tries to speak, and then finally meets my eyes. Hers are red-rimmed and filled with tears. “I think I remember.”
“Sweetheart, your memory is wrong. We screwed around a bit, but that’s not what happened in the woods.”
Her eyes look to the wall and then back to me. Her hand raises to her throat. “Did you hurt me?” As she asks, her eyes drift to the faint marks on her wrists, and her eyes widen.
“It’s not what you think.” I try to keep my voice even, but my skin is on fire and I can feel their eyes boring into me, thinking I hurt her.
“No, we didn’t. I know we didn’t. This morning was the first time.” Her voice is small as she stares at her wrists and then closes her eyes.
“That’s right we didn’t. I wouldn’t fuck you when you were like that.”
She raises her eyes to mine. “But you did hurt me. I remember. I remember you, and I remember them. You were angry with me.”
Her breath comes in shallow pants and then she looks behind me at Pops and Tommy. She hesitantly steps closer to me, but then looks at the door. “Please let me go. I won’t say anything.” Her small hand settles on my chest and her eyes plead with me. “Please.”
“I can’t let that happen, sweetheart.” It fucking kills me to say it. I see Tommy leave the room, but my father stays.
“I won’t say anything. I don’t know what to think. I’m not okay,” she says.
“No, you’re not okay,” I answer back. Truer words have never been said.
She swallows thickly and then looks back at the door again with tears running down her cheeks. “I’m scared, Vince.” She’s huddling next to me like I’m going to save her.
I tell her the only thing I can think of to say. “You should be.”
Chapter 17: Elle
“I don't want to hurt you, sweetheart. I don't want to, but I will.” I hear Vince’s cold, hard voice in my head over and over again. A chill washes through my body. I push my body into his chest as though it will make it go away. I don’t know what’s real. My mind is fucking with me.
Flashes of scenes play before my eyes. His handsome smile as he introduces himself to me. “I’m Vince.” The heated look in his eyes as he looks up at me from between my legs. But then, there’s more. More that I didn’t remember this morning. Him choking me, pinning me against the wall. Then his cousin and another man. Smaller in size than Vince, but both with threatening looks on their faces. It makes my heart skip a beat.
“Vince, what happened?” I whisper into his chest, afraid to know the answer. But I need something. Something is very, very wrong.
“I can’t tell you, sweetheart.” His calm voice forces a sob up my throat.
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg him. I know he will though. I can sense it in the thick air, in the way they all looked at me. I’m answered with silence. “I’m not supposed to remember, am I?”