Hold Me Tight(22)

“But who can Lauren possibly be after? Eric’s the one she wants. Everyone else is just collateral damage.” I rack my brain trying to think of every conceivable possibility.

“I really don’t want you to know all this stuff. It’ll only put you at risk. The less you know, the safer you’ll be, and in your condition, I think you’d be wise to take my advice.” He starts flipping the pancakes, diverting his attention to the task at hand.

But I need him to look at me.

I get up and walk over to the stove, reaching over his shoulder to grab two plates off the top shelf. He holds his breath when he feels me leaning over him, my baby bump nudging against his back. I shouldn’t be playing games with him, but I have to. I need to find out what’s really going on.

“Let me choose for myself,” I implore, holding out a plate to him as he slides two pancakes onto it, briefly meeting my eyes.

“You might not like what I have to say,” he warns as he fills his own plate before turning off the burner.

“I’m a big girl. I can take it.” I retake my seat at the table as he follows me over, carrying a bottle of syrup and some silverware.

“It has to do with Ben and Ryan,” he says gruffly, stuffing his mouth to keep from talking.

“You don’t mean…?” I ask, a light bulb going off in my head.

He nods, taking another bite. I wait for him to finish chewing before he responds. “They got involved with each other and Ryan’s dad caught them together. Ryan went ballistic, started doing all this crazy shit.”

“Like spying on half-naked girls.” I respond, filling in the blanks.

“Exactly,” Tim concurs, his head turning in my direction. “How do you know about that?”

“From one of Ben’s lectures,” I respond glumly, suddenly feeling nauseated.

“Lectures?” Tim questions, crinkling his brow.

“Yeah. Ryan and I had a similar encounter once. Then another time, we were alone and he lost control. I should’ve reported him, but I didn’t. That’s when Ben told me about what happened to you. How you lost your job over it.” I put my fork down and bite the inside corner of my lip.

“Ivy, what did Ryan do to you?” Tim pushes his chair closer to mine, placing his hands gently on my shoulders, urging me to face him.

I don’t resist as I swing my feet around until they bump into his. I don’t know why I’m shaking. It’s all in the past, shoved to the farthest corner of my mind. I never even told Eric exactly what Ryan did to me—not all of it, anyway. I was afraid he’d kill him if he knew.

I just buried it deep inside after it happened. I was ashamed of myself for letting it get that far. There must have been signs I missed. I’ve known Ryan nearly all my life. For him to just attack me like that, it couldn’t have come out of nowhere. I should have been more careful. I should have checked the closet that day in his room when I thought I heard something fall. I shouldn’t have let him drive me to the gala after my tire was slashed. I was stupid, forgetting how jealous he could be. Then having Will back in town and Lauren catching me with Eric… It all added up to one colossal mistake.

My lip trembles as it all starts pouring out of me. “I was in his Jeep when he pulled over all of a sudden. I didn’t know what was going on. He acted so fast. One second he was driving and the next he was on top of me. When I realized what he was doing, it was too late. He was too strong. I was vulnerable, and he overpowered me. I made it clear I didn’t want him to touch me. I tried to get him to stop, but he got violent.”

“Oh God, Ivy,” Tim murmurs, stroking my hair.

That gesture of kindness on Tim’s part breaks me. My composure weakens and I give in to the emotions I didn’t even realize I was holding back. “He was going to force himself on me…whether I wanted him to or not.” It’s the first time I really, truly admitted that to myself. Not allowing myself to make excuses. Not glossing anything over. Just comprehending the cold, hard truth. Digesting it. Taking it in.

“But he didn’t, right?” Tim asks, frantically smoothing my hair behind my ears before tipping my chin to meet his troubled gaze.

I shake my head, tears cascading down my cheeks as I see relief wash over him. “But it doesn’t matter,” I whisper forlornly. “It still felt like he did.”

Tim’s hands slide up and down my arms, reassuring me. “That piece of shit is dead, do you hear me? Dead.”

“Don’t,” I mutter, taking a deep breath.

“Does Eric know about this?” Tim asks defiantly.