Instead of telling her all of that, I moved around the room and to my bag so I could get some fresh clothes out. “I thought we could take a walk around town today.” I pulled out a pair of shorts and T-shirt, knowing from the way the sun was already shining that it would be a warm day.
“Asher.”
“It’s a small place, and everybody knows everybody.” I grabbed Elodie’s bag and placed it at the end of the bed. “We can stock up on food while we’re there. Maybe even get some things to put on the grill.”
“Asher.”
“I’ll go and shower in my mom and dad’s room, so you can shower in here.” I moved away from the bed, skirting Elodie’s gaze, but I hadn’t even moved three steps before her hand wrapped around my wrist. I stared down at it, her fingers not able to meet. Her touch meant more to me than I’d realized. It ignited a fire within, but it also threatened to douse the flames.
“Asher,” she repeated, this time with less patience. “Are you seriously about to walk away from me right now?” I opened my mouth, but she didn’t give me the chance to reply. “After everything that’s happened, you’re just going to act like it was nothing that you shouted my name several times while having a nightmare?”
“It was nothing,” I croaked out, feeling my muscles lock. I’d never had to explain my thoughts to anyone, and although I was desperate to confide in Elodie, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to her, not with what she was dealing with.
“Bullshit,” she spat, and I turned to face her with a raised brow. Gone was the Elodie who had been scared to walk out of my mom’s house to get into the car. In her place was the Elodie I’d first met. The Elodie who didn’t put up with shit. That was the Elodie I wanted to see, but I was afraid it’d only be a glimmer. A small fragment of light in the darkness. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I said way too fast to be convincing. Her hand trailed off my wrist, and I blew out a tired breath. She didn’t believe me, and if I were honest, I didn’t want her to. “I just…” I glanced at the ceiling, then back at her. “It was just a dream.” She raised her brow, silently telling me to continue, but I couldn’t find the right words. My stomach was tied in knots. “It was just my mind playing tricks on me, that’s all.”
Her voice changed. “So why can’t you tell me, then?” Gone was the confidence, and in its place, nervousness. Did she think I didn’t want to tell her? Because she was wrong. I wanted to tell her. I wanted to confide in her and tell her I was scared of how my brain caused me to react to situations. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t put that on her. It was bad enough for me to try and survive it, never mind adding it to all the other shit she had to deal with. I wouldn’t do that to her. I wouldn’t do it to us. We were in a fragile place, and I didn’t want to shatter it—shatter her.
“It’s…hard.” I winced. She knew what it was like to be in situations that people didn’t want to talk about, but she had no choice in me knowing her darkest moments. I’d been there, witnessed some of the worst moments of her life, and here I was, not willing to give an inch. I felt like a prick, but I couldn’t vocalize what I was thinking. I couldn’t find the right words to convey to her what I’d been through.
“Okay,” Elodie whispered and backed away. “I get it.” She glanced down at her bag, then zipped it open. There was nothing I wanted more than to be honest with her, to fuckin’ tell her what haunted me, but this wasn’t about me. This was about her healing first. She’d been to hell and back, and she didn’t need all the extra baggage I brought to the table.
I stared at the back of her head as she gathered up some clothes and moved over to the attached bathroom. She was done with the conversation. She’d given up on knowing what had happened. She’d prodded and poked, but I hadn’t given an inch of leeway. It was my own fault, no matter how much I wanted to tell her.
I just…couldn’t.
Chapter Seven
ELODIE
For five days, we’d danced around everything that had happened and pretended we were on vacation. The lake house was the perfect location: tranquil, beautiful, freeing. But that didn’t detract from the sadness and pain hanging over our heads. Things had been different between us. I wasn’t sure whether it was because of that night, or because I’d confronted Asher about his nightmare. Or maybe it was a mixture of both? He’d told me not to pretend on the way here, but now it was exactly what we were both doing.
I’d tried to talk to Asher about what had been bothering him, but he’d shut me down, pushed me away. So, I’d done the same. I hadn’t talked about what Knox had done to me; I hadn’t mentioned the physical pain I was in. Instead, I’d just taken the painkillers I’d bought from one of the shops in town and acted like it didn’t matter.
But the truth was, it did.
I didn’t want to pretend anymore. I didn’t want to wake up in a sweat feeling like I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t want to feel the soreness between my legs and be reminded of what he’d taken. But most of all, I didn’t want him to have control over me. I’d given that to him too freely, and now I was taking it back. My control was mine. I decided what I did and didn’t do.
And as I sat on the edge of the dock, moving my feet in the lake water, I knew today was the day. I knew I had to take the plunge and open up the conversation again—or at least try. Asher was cleaning out the boat so we could go out onto the lake for the day, and I knew it would be the perfect time. He couldn’t walk away, and neither could I. We’d have to face what was hanging over our heads.
“All ready, Elodie,” Asher called, and I turned to face him, feeling my lips lifting on one side. His hands were on his hips, his hair was a ruffled mess, and his stubble was starting to grow into a small beard. I liked clean-shaven Asher, but this rough-and-ready version called to me.
I stood and pulled my shades over my eyes to block the sun as I ambled toward him. His gaze didn’t move off mine as I got closer, and when he held his hand out, I was reminded of what he’d said last week. He’d promised not to let go. And he hadn’t, as of yet, but what I had planned for when we were on the open water would test me, test him, test us.
I placed my hand in his and stepped onto the boat, then it was only seconds until he was pulling away from the dock and moving away from the lake house. Fishing rods and bait were stacked at the edge of the boat, and I tried to work out all the different elements as I sat down next to it. I needed to distract myself. I needed something to occupy my thoughts before I blurted something out and—
“Here looks good,” Asher announced, but I didn’t think he was talking to me, more talking aloud than anything. I nodded anyway and watched as he lowered something off the side of the boat into the water. Once he was done, he flashed me a grin and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s catch some fish.”
I tried to smile, but I knew it looked more like a grimace. My emotions had been all over the place, and even I wasn’t sure what mood would come next. I knew it was normal after the trauma I’d been through—that was what Lola had told me last night when she’d called. It seemed to be the only time I really acknowledged what I’d been through. I avoided the mirrors in the house, I wore clothes that would cover most of my skin, but today was different. I’d woken up with a renewed sense of urgency. I needed to acknowledge everything, but so did Asher.
Asher started to reel off how to put bait on one of the hooks and how to cast the line into the lake. I tried to pay attention, but my focus just wasn’t there. My stomach rolled, nerves taking over, and finally, I blurted out, “I was raped.” It was the first time I’d said the word out loud. The first time I’d been honest with myself. My shoulders felt a little lighter, my heart beat faster, but it felt…good.
Asher’s mouth opened and closed several times, his body frozen on the spot in front of me. “I—”
“I was raped, Asher.” Saying it a second time was easier. “Knox hurt me in the worst way possible. He took my control away.” My shoulders drooped, and I pulled my shades off my face. “He stole things he had no right to, but I’m not letting him anymore.”
“Sweetheart.” Asher crouched down in front of me, his hand reaching out to me. “I know it’s hard.” His palm connected with my knee, covering the scabbed-over scrapes. “I’m so damn proud of you.”