One to Chase (One to Hold 7)
Page 96
“Amy.” I go straight to her and catch her arm. All the happiness from earlier has vanished, and her eyes are worried. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s go.”
Taking her hand, I lead her to the back exit and push through it, ignoring the alarm. We’re on the wrong side of the block from the valet service. I scan up the street and see the lights of EMS heading our direction.
“We’re not too far from Sylvia’s condo,” I say. “Are you okay to walk?”
She nods. “What happened?”
Her hair is up in that silly bun with the chopsticks, and in that white dress with the blue design, eyes round, she looks like a little girl. I take a moment to pull her to my chest and hold her. She hesitates a moment before sliding her hands to my waist.
“I’m sorry.” My lips are right at her ear, and I kiss it.
She pulls back and finds my eyes. “Why are you saying that?”
“Roland is a fucking dick, and I couldn’t let him get away with what he did to you.”
Her eyes widen even more, and she steps back as if I struck her. “What are you talking about?”
I step to her, not wanting distance between us. Cupping her face in both my hands, I slide my thumbs over her the tops of her cheeks.
“I don’t know what happened in the past, and I don’t care,” I say, looking deep into her beautiful eyes. “But Roland Dickerson essentially just confessed he rufied you, and I intend to make him pay for it.”
Her face flushes, and she grabs my wrists. “No!” She pulls my hands off her face. “Do not... Oh my god! Please, Marcus. Do not drag all that up again.”
Turning, she walks quickly in the direction of Sylvia’s place. I’m right behind her.
“Amy, wait!” She’s moving fast, and I have to jog to catch up. “I understand how you feel.”
“No. You don’t.” She won’t look at me. “You have no idea what went on back then.”
A sick feeling twists my gut. “Stop!” I catch her arm and make her face me. “Did he rape you or not?”
For a moment, she only looks at me, a mixture of worry and something I don’t recognize on her face. “I don’t even remember that night.” Shaking her head fast, she starts walking again, and I know what I didn’t recognize in her expression. Shame.
She blames herself.
“But you know the night.” Hustling to catch up with her, I don’t try to stop her. I walk beside her, needing her to trust me. “I’ve worked with rape victims before. It was not your fault.”
She pulls up short, catching me off guard. “You didn’t know me back then, Marcus. I was out of control. I have no doubt I put myself in the position to let it happen.”
My jaw grinds. “You don’t fuck someone who’s unconscious.”
Her eyes slide closed, and her arms cross over her small frame. I want to hold her, but I don’t want her to feel trapped or forced.
“That’s rape, Amy.” My voice is soft.
Her chin drops, and it’s almost more than I can take. She speaks slowly, putting it all on the line. “I was so angry...” she hesitates. “I went out all the time. I had a fake ID. I stayed drunk.” Lowering her arms, she studies her hands. “My father had to pull strings so I wasn’t kicked out of school. I moved to Ithaca to get back on track.” The slightest tremble enters her voice. “For Sylvia... He said I was breaking her heart. Me.”
My arms are around her shoulders before I can overthink it, my lips at her temple. “Nothing in your past will change how I feel about you.” Holding a kiss to her brow. “I can’t let him get away with hurting you.” Her body tenses, and I add. “But I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do.”
She relaxes, and her hands go around my waist, this time returning my hug. “It was a long time ago,” she says, her voice muffled against my body. “What happened is best left in the past.”
I’m not sure I can agree with her. I also can’t ignore the burning throb in my knuckles. “That might be hard after tonight.”
She steps back and lifts my swollen fist. “Let me see.” A hiss escapes her lips. “Shit, Marcus. It might be broken.”
I watch as she gently straightens my fingers. “Ow!” I wince, and she jumps.
“I’m sorry!” Green-hazel eyes flicker to mine, and I smile, leaning down to kiss her.