Victor (Chicago Blaze 3)

“You don’t have to say anymore.” Lindy talks through tears from her place on the couch. “I’m so sorry, Victor. So very, very sorry.”

I take a deep breath, focusing my gaze on my fireplace mantle. I still can’t look at Lindy. How will I ever look at her again, now that she knows?

“Please don’t pity me,” I say, my voice close to its usual tone now. “I didn’t want you to know. I’ve never wanted anyone to know. But Bryan is texting me more and more now, and the amounts of money keep going up. I’m sure I’m funding his drug habit. And I don’t know, I just worry…what happens if he asks for everything I’ve got? What if his phone falls into the wrong hands and the photos get out even though I’m paying to keep them from getting out?”

I hear Lindy’s soft inhale and exhale. Other than the crackle of the flames, it’s the only sound in the room.

“I think…we should slow down,” she says.

I whip my head around, facing her. “Us? You don’t want to be with me anymore?” My tone is as anguished as I feel inside; I can’t hide it.

“No,” she says, loudly and firmly. “That’s not what I mean. I want to be with you more than ever. I mean slow down right now, in this moment. Instead of getting overwhelmed by what ifs, let’s just take a breath, okay? You told me, and that was very difficult for you. I’m really--” She chokes up and clears her throat. “I’m really proud of you for that.”

“No one’s ever looked at me the way you do. I don’t want to see pity in your eyes when you look at me. It would kill me.”

“Can I…come over there?” she asks tentatively. “Can I hug you?”

An immediate, powerful answer to her question rises inside me, catching me off guard. “No. I’m sorry, it’s not you. I just need a minute. I feel…dirty right now. All those feelings…they’re getting stirred up, it’s fucking awful.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “I’m gonna stay right here. But please listen, okay? I don’t pity you. When I look at you, I see a badass survivor. A fighter. Everything you are…you did that. All by yourself. You made yourself into a kind, sweet, hardworking gentleman and a professional athlete.”

I let out a ragged exhale, my game focused on the ground. “I’ve never had a good relationship because I don’t know how. Before you, I never sought out the right kind of women. I don’t want to blow this relationship because of how fucked up I am.”

“You are not fucked up.” Lindy’s tone is fierce and certain.

“How can I not be?”

“You took the first step—the most important one. You told me. And it’s safe with me. Now we can start to work through what comes next together. I’m not going anywhere.”

I finally work up the courage to look over at her. Really look at her. And I see my same sweet, devoted Lindy looking back at me. Her eyes still have their shine.

“You’re sure?” I ask, choking up again.

“You’re not getting rid of me, Victor Lane. I adore you. More so now than ever.”

I swallow hard, trying to hold back the tears. Suddenly I’m exhausted, the strain and stress drained from my body.

“I’m not fucked up sexually,” I say. “I want you to know that. What happened to me…that wasn’t sex. I know it was abuse.”

“Whatever way it does or doesn’t affect you, I’m not going to get scared away. I’m here.”

After a long, hard exhale, I say, “Thank you.”

It’s over now. She knows the worst. And she’s still here. Even though I know consciously that what happened to me is not my fault and I’m not the one who should be ashamed, I’ve always known it’s a lot for a partner to take in. If those photos get out, things could get messy.

I walk over and sit next to Lindy, leaving space between us but taking her hand in mine.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” I say.

“I’d never, ever tell anyone. I swear it.”

I run the pad of my thumb over her knuckles as we sit in silence for a few seconds.

“I know that was a shitty way to start the night,” I say. “I just had to get it out. I want you to know what you’re in for with me.”

“I’m glad you trusted me with it. And like I said, I’m not going anywhere.”

It takes a few minutes for me to want to move closer and put my arms around her. But once she’s in my arms, I like the comfort of her scent and her soft warmth.

When I kiss her, there’s something new there. I kiss her hard, gratitude and arousal winding themselves around each other until I don’t know which is which anymore. I need to get back a shred of the control I just gave up, and ravaging her right now feels like the only way.