“If I tell you and you choose to leave him for good, that’s fine. But what I’m about to tell you doesn’t leave this room. You cannot tell anyone, not even Lucy and Meg. I’m very serious about this, Nina. You cannot tell anyone else.”
I nod, desperate for him to give me a reason to stay.
He readjusts himself on the sofa, sliding to the edge so he’s barely braced against it.
He’s so uncomfortable, and it makes me nervous.
“My sister’s name was Phoebe. She was six years younger than me. She was sweet and loving, and everything good in the world.” His hand shakes as he rubs it over his mouth, and I reach over and take his other hand, sensing he needs the support. “When she was eighteen, she was raped.” He turns his head away, composing himself for a moment before looking back down at his hands. “I didn’t know. She didn’t tell anyone. Not until it was too late.”
“Charlie—”
“Mason didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t think you would be able to handle it, that you have too much from your past to deal with.”
He’s not wrong.
“I get why he chose not to tell you. It wasn’t his truth to tell, and I didn’t understand that until now. Mason did what he thought would protect the most people. Even if that meant losing you.”
“Protect people from what?”
He nods, then continues. “Phoebe didn’t tell me until two years after it happened. She spiralled into depression and cut me and her friends off. It wasn’t until I cornered her and demanded she told me one day that she broke down and told me everything—his name included.” Charlie’s body bristles with anger, his shoulders sharp and his knee bouncing. I squeeze his hand tighter. “I was young and stupid and didn’t know what to do. I was in the middle of taking my bar and knew this was the exact scenario I’d want to represent one day. But it was my little sister, so it was different. She wouldn’t go to the police.”
“But you know who did it?” I state.
“Yeah.” He looks at me with so much hurt in his eyes, my own fill with tears. “Phoebe committed suicide three months after I found out. No note, nothing. Just gone.”
“God, I’m so sorry, Charlie?—”
“I hated him. She was so innocent, never messed around, went to school. She had dreams and he came along and ripped it all out from under her.”
I sit silently, knowing there aren’t any words that can take Charlie’s pain away or bring his sister back.
He’s back in the moment, reliving the hurt, and I feel it. I feel it all.
“I asked Mase if he would help me.” His voice shakes and then he stands, dropping my hand before walking to the window.
I link my hands in my lap, not liking the loss of connection. I think I needed it just as much as he did.
“I hired a friend of Vinny’s. He was ex-special forces like him.”
I close my eyes, not wanting to hear the rest of the story.
“I wanted him to be scared. I wanted him to feel every bit of the pain that she did.”
“Charlie,” I mutter, agonising with him as I look up at him from the sofa.
“I didn’t go through with it. We didn’t even know where he was at the time, and I knew it wouldn’t bring Phoebe back. I hoped one day I could put him away. That I would find him and do it the right way.”
My shoulders sag, and I let out a deep sigh of relief.
Charlie stands with his hands on his hips. His bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “I found out three days ago that Mason and Vinny never called it off.”
My eyes widen. “What?!”
He nods, then drops his head, eyes on the ground. “It went wrong, Nina. They were supposed to rough him up a bit, but it went to shit.”
“What happened to him?” I ask, my voice shaking.
Do I even want to know? This isn’t something I can just forget.
