My Favorite Mistake(48)

He stood with his arms at his sides. His face was red from me slapping him.

My knees caved, and he caught me before I went down, picking me up and putting me on the couch.

“Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t answer, but wrapped his arms around me as I started sobbing. I never cried, but there I was, salty tears streaming down my face, being held by Hunter, the guy I’d just beat the shit out of.

He rocked me, his strong arms encircling me tightly.

He started humming, but I was too wrecked to recognize the tune.

My throat hurt from crying, and my tears were dripping everywhere, but I didn’t care.

I started hyperventilating, and Hunter had to tell me to breathe slowly so I wouldn’t pass out. That had happened before, but he didn’t know that. I’d had episodes like this before, only those times it was Mom and Tawny taking care of me.

Hunter waited until I had mostly cried myself out and was just sniffing. Luckily, he had a spare napkin and I blew my nose.

“Are you okay?” I said.

“That’s my line.”

“I’m sorry for beating you up.”

“It’s okay. You needed to get it out.”

“I haven’t done that in a long time.” I felt his lips on my temple.

“You scared me,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I’ll be fine.”

“But I won’t.”

He inhaled slowly. “When my parents died, I used to have these freak outs were I’d go nuts and break everything I could. My mother had this collection of crystal animals that was worth thousands of dollars. I smashed every single one. Joe was furious, but what could he do? They ended up taking everything breakable out of the house and moving me to Hope and John’s as soon as possible. They Hunter-proofed the house, but I still found things to break.”

It was my turn.

“They used to have to restrain me so I wouldn’t hurt myself. My mom didn’t have a straitjacket, but she and Tawny used to hold me down,” I said. There was a pause and he started stroking my hair. I settled against his chest. His arms were like cables, holding me in one place. I wasn’t shivering anymore.

I took a deep breath.

“Tawny was supposed to be babysitting. That was before my parents split up, so they were out on a date night. I was twelve, but they didn’t want me staying alone at night for some reason. I can’t remember why. The rule was that she wasn’t supposed to have anyone over, but she invited her boyfriend, Travis, to hang out.” Saying his name was like running razor blades over my tongue, but I had to do this.

“She’d only been dating him for a few weeks, and my parents didn’t like him. It wasn’t that he had a motorcycle or he got in trouble or any of that. He just rubbed them the wrong way, especially my mom. He was older and he had a temper, but he kept it in check most of the time. He was pissed about something that night. Once again, I don’t remember what. Tawny was different around him. When it was just us, we’d do movies and have fun, but when Travis was over, she’d make me go to bed so they could make out on the couch. I got mad at her that night about sending me to bed early, but she yelled at me and Travis backed her up, so I had no choice.”

I took another deep breath. Hunter kept stroking my hair.

“As I was walking back to my bedroom, I saw something sparkly on the floor. It was one of my mother’s peacock earrings. Tawny had borrowed them without asking, and I knew she was wearing one. The other must have fallen out. I was jealous, because I’d never been allowed to wear them, so I went to my room and put it on. I stayed up reading for a while, but then I heard a noise. I got up, and I heard it again. Then there was a scream.”

Hunter’s arms tightened around me, and I gripped onto his shirt.

“I went back to Tawny’s bedroom, and she was screaming while I heard a slapping noise and Travis telling her to shut up. She screamed some more and then I heard him punch her. She was pleading with him. I didn’t know what to do. The door was cracked just a little, and I looked in. He was on top of her and her shirt was torn. He was unzipping his pants and telling her that he’d waited long enough. She was crying and struggling to get out from under him. He slapped her again, and her head flew to the side. We locked eyes and she whispered something. Travis saw her looking, and I couldn’t close the door fast enough.”

I started shaking again, but Hunter wasn’t going to let me go.

“He chased me down the hall and grabbed me. He screamed at me for interrupting them and then said that maybe I wanted some, too. He started ripping at my pants, and I couldn’t breathe because he was so heavy and he was on top of me, and I thought I was going to die. He ripped at my shirt and scratched my chest. I was only wearing leggings, so he tore those and my underwear and went for his pants again, telling me if I ever told anyone about any of it, he’d come and find me and kill me. I prayed for someone to save me and that was when Tawny hit him as hard as she could with her softball bat that she kept under her bed. He collapsed on me, and Tawny had to roll him off. We tied him up with a couple of my jump ropes and some tape and called the police.

There was a trial. He was convicted and got ten years. He’s supposed to be in for two more, but Tawny called and said he’s up for parole.”

I sniffed again, and he handed me the napkin.

“So there. Now you know. The only other person I’ve ever told was Megan. Everyone in my town knew about it. I got labeled a whore in school, and when I started getting angry and fighting, no one wanted anything to do with me. I made a pact with myself that I would never date, never have a boyfriend. I’d be alone, because the only person I can trust is me. Everyone will let you down. I’d never told Tawny that, but she apologized for years. I think she’s still apologizing, even though she was a victim, too. My parents felt so guilty about leaving that they broke up. I mean, that wasn’t the entire reason, but it had a lot to do with it. Everything just kind of fell apart after that one night. And now you know why I have the peacock obsession. Tawny was wearing one earring and I was wearing the other. Those earrings saved our lives.”

Hunter thought for a moment, and I could almost hear him trying to pick the right words.

“I wish I could kill him in the most slow, painful way possible,” he said.

“Me too.” I’d imagined it more times than I would ever admit.

“Thank you for telling me.”

“Now you know why I’m so fucked up.”

“You’re not, that’s the thing. You’ve been through something most people can’t imagine. Don’t be ashamed of the way that you cope with it.”

“I’m not coping with it, according to my therapists. There have been many.”

“Fuck them. If breaking things and punching people every now and then helps you, I’ll be your punching bag and we can get you some stuff to throw off the roof. Deal?”

“Okay.”

“So he’s up for parole?”

“Yeah, there’s a hearing. My lawyer called.”

“But you get to go to it, right? Make a statement?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay then. We’ll just have to get you ready to make a really good statement.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I can’t face him again.” Harder even than telling him the story was telling him that. That I was a coward.

“Yes, you can. You just don’t think you can. There’s a difference.”

“But I couldn’t face him then. He was raping my sister, and I did nothing. I could have gotten the phone; I could have run in and hit him with something. I could have done something,” I said.

“You were a child.”

I tried to shake my head, but he wouldn’t let me.

“I should have done something.”

“I let my father shoot my mother and then himself. If anyone should have done something, it’s me.”

“He had a gun.”

“He had your sister.”

“It’s not the same.”

He sighed. “Taylor, we can what if ourselves to death, but it won’t do anything. The only thing we can do is keep moving, even when it feels like you’re walking through a pit of cement.”

“With cinderblocks on your shoulders.”

“Exactly.”

“The only difference is that your demon has a human form.” His hand traveled up and down my arm in a soothing motion.

“I’m still sorry I beat you,” I said, touching his perfect face.

“How’s my face looking?”

I glanced up. He was going to look quite pretty tomorrow.

“A little battered.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just tell everyone I was in a bar fight.”

“What, you’re ashamed to say you were hit by a girl?”

“No, but I’m worried you’ll get hauled in for domestic violence,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, fine.”

“Feel better?”

“I guess. I’ll let you know.”

“It’s okay to be scared.”

“I hate being scared.”

“I know. But you don’t have to be scared of him. He’s locked up right now, and you’re not alone. I want you to remember that. You. Are. Not. Alone.”