“I know what he did to you was wrong…” He hesitates, his eyes flicking to the bathroom to be sure Cal isn't about to materialize. “But you need to understand, he's a brother to me. He's the only family I've got.”
I nod, deciding not to tell him that I get it. It doesn't stop my eyes from misting with tears that I blink away when I think about my brother.
“I understand.”
They clearly have a special sort of relationship. Why would your best friend have a key to the handcuffs you keep in the bedside drawer? I trail a glance down Dex, wondering whether they've ever been together. They say they're like brothers, but what I felt for my brother wasn't strictly familial. And he wasn’t any more my blood than Cal is Dex’s.
Living your whole life thinking that something is wrong with you, you eventually get to believe it. Therewassomething wrong with me from the very start—I'm sure it's why I ended up in state housing to begin with. Whatever it is that was broken never healed as other things broke, too.
As a semi-functional adult, I can recognize the things that have made me the way I am—trauma and anxiety. I felt things for my brother that I shouldn't have, and while I've never admitted it, I'm self-aware enough to realize it's because he's the only one who's ever shown me any semblance of love or care.
Hewasthe only one.
Now I've got Cal, and it's so fucking confusing I can't even begin to unravel my feelings.
I wanted to hate him. I really did. I tried to see him as a monster.
He's a fucking killer.
He admitted to planning to murder me, and he kept me as his unwilling and unconscious sex slave for months.
But he's not a monster—not like the ones where I came from.
When I told him to fuck me the way he did while I was unconscious, I didn't expect him to make me feel anything. I thought it would help my brain process the time I'd lost, that it would show me I can survive him awake since I survivedhim drugged. I sure as fuck didn't expect that he'd break me somehow and also put me back together a little in the interim.
I'm not sure he even realized that he asked for my consent twice that time, that he didn't simplyforceme to come for him without giving me the choice to decline, making me give him something I can't take back.
Is this Stockholm syndrome? Am I softening to him because he told me that he loves me? Because he's been less awful than the monsters of my past?
“I don't think you do.” Dex shakes his head, his voice low as we hear the toilet flush, followed by the sound of water running in the sink. “I will protect him at all costs.Anycost. If you get in the way of that…”
I swallow, suddenly more unnerved than I've ever been in his presence.
That wasabsolutelya threat, and I know in my gut it's not an empty one.
Before I can even contend with that, Cal comes back into the room, brandishing Mr. Pig with a flourish.
The grin slips off his face when he stops walking, and I worry at first that he heard our conversation. Then I realize that his eyes are fixed over our shoulders... on the girl in the doorway.
Katrina's tongue flicks out over her lips, making her look nervous. Suddenly, the tension that existed between Dex and me is nothing compared to whatever is between Cal and Katrina.
I frown, looking from her to him, trying to decide what I'm missing.
“Cal,” Dex says calmly. “You remember Katrina?”
“Katrina?” Cal shakes his head. “I thought it was Tiffany?”
“That's my, um, stage name.”
Stage name?
I blink, turning to assess her. Katrina is beautiful, but she's not what I'd expect from a stripper. She's so... tiny and delicate.
She looks like I could snap her by breathing too hard.
“What is she doing here?” Cal asks, ignoring Katrina in favor of Dex.
“Well, I thought it was time to come clean with you about my own secret.”
