“Why do you do it?” he asked.
“Because knowledge is power,” I muttered. “And I hate that people might have leverage over me.”
“So you’re saying you don’t trust me?” Nolan dragged a hand through his hair. “Damn, Alexa. That really fucking hurts.”
“I…” What was I meant to say? This was why I kept people at arm’s length—I was no good at these kinds of conversations. Jez didn’t dig into my psyche. Chase didn’t rake over the past. Jay didn’t ask me to open up more. But Nolan was doing all those things, and I didn’t want to risk another ten years without him in my life. He’d been my rock in Blackstone House. “I…I’m sorry.” The words felt foreign on my tongue. “I’m sorry I lied about my age. I was scared that if you all found out how young I truly was, you’d turn me over to Child Protective Services and they’d send me back home.”
Nolan finished chopping the tomatoes, and I focused on his hands rather than his face. I didn’t want to see his disapproval. Finally, he settled onto the stool beside mine and leaned an elbow on the counter, his body angled toward me.
“Nobody wanted you to suffer, but we did deserve to know the truth. Hell, we were bringing hookups into the house, walking around in our underwear, cursing from dawn till dusk… I walked in on Jerry and Brax having a quickie in the laundry room, for fuck’s sake. That could have been you.”
“You think I didn’t know about sex? My uncle raped me from the age of seven.”
Nolan turned pale, and he shook his head as if he might have misheard. “What?”
“I thought you wanted the truth?”
He opened his mouth. Closed it again. Clenched his fists.
“Well, I thought I did, but… Tell me that’s another lie. Tell me it is.”
“I went to a fancy private school, and sometimes he made me keep my uniform on while he fucked me.”
“Alexa…”
“Luckily, I didn’t get my period until I came to Virginia, so at least I managed to avoid pregnancy when I was still a child myself. Small blessings, right? No, I just got a lot of bruises and chlamydia. Oh, and anal fissures. Of course, I didn’t know the technical term at the time, only that it hurt to take a shit, so?—”
“Stop. Enough.”
“I used to throw up in the school bathroom because I didn’t want to go home, and the teachers thought I was bulimic.”
“Did you tell them the truth?”
“I mean, I tried. Mom said I was attention seeking and she’d send me to a therapist.”
“Don’t therapists have to report child abuse?”
“Yes, which is why she never followed through.”
“What about calling 911? Did you try that?”
“No, because my uncle was a police captain.” Nolan’s expression was pure horror. “Are you happy now? Should we carry on with this open and honest conversation, or can we eat lunch?”
Nolan didn’t say a word. No, he just stood and wrapped me up in a hug, my head smushed against his chest, his heart beating a violent tattoo against my cheek. A tear rolled down the side of my nose, and I couldn’t wipe it away because my arms were pinned at my sides. Instead, I let it soak into Nolan’s shirt as he kissed my hair. The irony. He wouldn’t kiss me out of love all those years ago, but he’d kiss me out of pity now.
It wasn’t horrible.
Just ten years too late.
I’d grown the strength I needed alone, taken the revenge I’d dreamed of since I was a child. And I’d done it without him.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So fucking sorry. If I’d known, I’d have…I’d have…”
“You’d have what?”
“We both know who my father is. I’d have asked him for tips.”
“I learned to take care of my own problems.”
