Sixteen. She was sixteen and he was damn near thirty. Fucking pervert.
We're quiet for a minute. My thoughts are running rampant. Picturing an innocent little Ellie thinking she’d fallen in love with someone for the first time, only for it to be a trap.
“You must think I’m awful, huh?” she asks, bringing me back.
I glare at her. How could she think that? I was thinking of how to find this guy so I could fuck him up good, maybe kill him. “No, Ellie. I don’t. I think, no, I know you were groomed and taken advantage of.”
“I wasn’t innocent,” she argues, and it pisses me off that she could think even a fraction of whatever happened was her fault.
“You were, though. Sixteen is innocent. You didn’t know any better. He was a grown-ass man and an authority figure.”
“He was wrong, but I knew it was wrong, too.”
I shake my head. “Nope. Not your fault. You were tricked.”
“You don’t even know what happened.”
“Did you sleep with him?” I grind my molars together, keeping my voice as level as possible.
She just stares at me.
Motherfucking shit.
“So, he groomed you, slept with you, then let me guess, told you how much he cared, but that it was wrong? Made it seem like he was all torn up about it when he inevitably ended it?”
She hangs her head, picking at the fleece material of the blanket she’s bundled under. “Not exactly.”
“Then what happened?” I press. She doesn’t want to tell me, but I’m not letting this shit go. I want details. Preferably his name, address, and, if she can swing it, his Social Security number. Guessing that last one is a stretch.
She huffs. “We got caught.Hegot caught, and I wasn’t the only one he was sleeping with.”
I bare my teeth. Sonofabitch. “Jesus Christ.”
She pops a shoulder. “I mean, hey, they say your first time should be memorable. Definitely can’t forget mine.” She laughs.
I stiffen. “What?”
“What?”
“He was your first?” I swallow, feeling like needles are pricking my throat. My heart’s doing something weird, too. It’s offbeat, and my chest is tight, making it hard to breathe.
“Well, yeah, I was sixteen.”
Something inside of me is breaking or crumbling or...fuck.
“That’s…shit, I’m sorry that happened to you, Ellie.”
“Eh, it’s fine. He spent a year in jail and can’t come near a school anymore, so there’s that.”
I scoff. As if that’s enough. A year? That’spathetic. How none of those dads didn’t beat his ass into a wheelchair so his dick never worked again is beyond me.
“What’s his name?”
Her brows snap together. “Why?”
“Just wondering. Would like to put a name to the douchebag I’ve created in my head.”
“Austin Miller.”
