As the sun dips low, painting the sky in gold and rose, I find my way into the greenhouse.
This sanctuary had offered me comfort the other night when I told Joy and Aria my truth. It does the same now.
Glass panes glow soft in the late light, and the air inside wraps around me warm and damp, like stepping into a different world. Rows of herbs and flowers stretch out in tidy beds—lavender, rosemary, sage—all releasing their sharp, soothing scents. The soil smells alive, rich and dark, and water still beads on the leaves from Mav’s careful misting. The strings of soft bulbs overhead make the place feel more like a chapel than a greenhouse.
I sit on a wicker chair and think about what Kaz revealed.
Iwas Landon’s first rape victim. I hate that word. I’m a survivor and not anyone’s victim. I refuse to be. But there are others.
How many?
And is it my fault that they fell prey to a predator? IfI’d fought harder to unmask Landon then, would they have been saved?
I drop my face in my hands, feeling the old feelings of shame and helplessness suffuse me.
Tears prick the back of my eyes, but I don’t permit them to fall.
I won’t cry. I won’t feel sorry for myself.
“Truths are time bombs. You gonna sit on yours and wait for it to explode, or are you going to detonate it?”
But would anyone believe me now? What is my truth worth?
I hear footsteps. I raise my head. My eyes clash with blue ones—like my rapist’s and the man I love.
They both have the same eyes. Same tenor. Physically, they used to be alike, but I’ve now seen pictures of Congressman Mercer, and he looks nothing like Cade anymore.
While Landon has a potbelly and his hair is thinning, Cade looks like he’s in his prime—all raw muscle and health.
I turn away because memories assail.
“You want this. You think I don’t know how you look at me?”
“Landon, stop.”
I beg. I plead. I try to close my legs. He slaps me. He overpowers me. He enters me.
My therapist warned me that I’d experience this—memories like they just happened a day ago and not a decade ago—when I’m surrounded by all that is familiar from my past.
“Are you seeing Kaz Chase?”
That makes me look at him in puzzlement. “Huh?”
“Are you fuckin’ him?”
Fury crashes over me. He was supposed to protect me. He was my best friend. My lover. My future, and he threw me away so his brother could do to others what he did to me. And now he’s asking me….
“Are you?” There’s rage in his eyes, like he has any right to it.
I cock an eyebrow. “And how is that any of your business?”
He sighs, removes his hat, and runs a hand through his hair. I brace myself for the sharp edge of his tone, but…his eyes go quiet, the storm in them softens.
“It’s not.” He comes closer, drops his hat on the coffee table, and sits across from me in a wicker chair. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
“What do you want?” I demand. I don’t want him here, especially while I’m feeling vulnerable, when hurtful memories flood my veins.
“You don’t drink.”
