“No, you weren’t.” My mind raced, but it was as if it was spinning through quicksand as I tried to grasp pieces of the puzzle.
“You made a green gummy bear cake.”
My breath caught in my throat, and I shook my head back and forth as my world slipped into a black abyss. Ethan was telling the truth. He’d stalked me. He’d watched me. “Tell me it isn’t true.” Please. God, please tell me it’s all a lie. That this is a dream and I’ll wake up any second and be lying in Vic’s arms.
“On your seventh birthday, you rode your new purple bike up and down the sidewalk. On your tenth, it was raining, and you played your mom’s guitar out on the front porch.”
Oh my God. Oh my God. He’d watched me. He’d watched me all those years, and he hadn’t said anything. Why hadn’t he said anything? Why? Why, damn it?
“Did you rape me?” I regretted the words instantly. Because no matter what he’d lied to me about, I knew it wasn’t him.
But I saw what my words did to him. It was like I’d stabbed him through the heart as his face paled, and his eyes widened with shock. It took him a second to recover, and then everything changed. It was like this ice shield lowered over him, and he radiated pure, unadulterated coldness. “If you have to ask me that, then you don’t know me at all.”
“But I don’t, Vic. I don’t know you. You lied to me. You knew me and you never said anything. You had my goddamn Yoda from when I was five years old under your bed while you had your cock inside me.”
Ethan lowered his head and swore beneath his breath.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t look at him anymore. I had to get out of here. Get him out of me.
I tore at Vic’s T-shirt, then ripped it over my head.
I need it off. I need him off of me.
“Jesus, sis.” Ethan mumbled, turning his back as I stripped.
But I didn’t give a shit. Vic had watched me for years and never told me. He’d lied to me. To my little boy. I grabbed my knee-length winter parka off the newel post and yanked it on. I didn’t bother doing up the zipper, and pulled it close around my shivering body.
“Out of my way,” I said as Vic stood blocking the stairs.
“I stopped. On your sixteenth birthday,” he said.
“Eleven years. Eleven years you watched me!” I shoved his chest, but he didn’t move. “You didn’t tell me,” I shouted. “You didn’t fuckin’ tell me. I told you I was raped. I let you around my son. I let you fuck me. And you didn’t tell me.”
His shoulders sagged and his head dipped. I pushed past him and shoved my feet into my boots, then walked to Ethan, who was holding the door open.
“I need to pack.”
I felt Ethan behind me, his hand on the small of my back as I walked on trembling legs to the limo SUV. A driver stood in the blustery wind, holding the back door open for us.
I slid onto the plush leather seat and Ethan followed.
The door shut.
The SUV pulled out, the snow crunching beneath its tires. I didn’t look back. And I didn’t see Vic standing in the open doorway gripping the Yoda doll.
Macayla
I was on autopilot. I didn’t even remember packing up everything at the cabin, or the treacherous drive up the winding, snow-covered road up the mountain.
There were no tears. No tremors. Nothing. It felt as if I was outside myself staring in at the wreckage. I heard Ethan talk to me numerous times, but his voice was like an echo in the distance. And I couldn’t—or didn’t care to—decipher the words.
I heard Ethan on his phone, his gaze continuously shifting to me. “Yeah, if you could. A couple days, maybe. I don’t know, but Jackson shouldn’t see her like this.” He paused, then his voice hardened. “He isn’t my problem.” He tossed the cell onto the seat.
“Is Jackson okay?” I asked while keeping my eyes on the endless rows of pine trees we passed.
“Yeah,” he replied. “He’s at school, but Hettie will pick him up later, and he’ll stay there until… until things settle down.”
I nodded. “That’s good.” Like Ethan had said, it would scare him if he saw me like this. I rubbed my finger back and forth over the tattoo on my wrist. I just needed a couple days. A couple days to forget.