“I was put up for auction again, and that asshole Cassius, I mean Lawrence, bought me.”
“We know you escaped within twenty-four hours of landing back on US soil,” SSA Clement says, flicking through the file. “So, I have to ask if Clive Lawrence touched you against your will.”
Selena’s eyes burn with anger as she glares at the SSA. “Have you not been listening?” she shouts. “He was a client on the island! I was hisfavorite,” she spits out. “He was the first one to rape me, and he raped me repeatedly over the years I was imprisoned. He raped me on the boat on the way from the island to Texas, and he let his men take turns too. He—"
Nausea swims up my throat and I gag, halting Selena mid-sentence. Kev slides a trash can underneath my face, and I hover over it as my stomach churns and my heart pounds. When the nausea passes and I don’t think I’ll puke, I stand, needing to get out of this room. I need air. I sway as my legs threaten to go out from under me. Kev reaches for me, offering a steady arm.
“Keanu.” Selena’s anguished tone guts me. I hold onto my brother’s arm as I face the woman I love. She rises, pain etched across her beautiful face.
“I’m sorry, Sel, but I can’t listen to this anymore.”
She cups my face. “I’m sorry. I—”
“Do not apologize,” I roar, shaking her off as I lose control of my tenuous emotions.
“Keanu.” Keven’s tone warns me to keep it together.
“Shit, Sel, I’m sorry.” I rest my forehead against hers. “I’m not angry at you. I just… I need some breathing space. I need to clear my head. I—”
“I understand. It’s fine.” She takes my hands, squeezing tight. “I love you, and I hate seeing you in pain. Take whatever time you need.”
“We can stop, Selena,” Sinead says. “Reconvene another day.”
She shakes her head. “No. I’d like to continue. I’d prefer to tell you everything now.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” Selena eyeballs Keven, and some silent communication passes between them. Then he’s steering me out of the room, thrusting a bottle of water in my chest and telling me to follow him.
I don’t know how I manage to put one foot in front of the other, but I do. I’ve no clue where we’re going, but I follow my brother to an impressive gym on the top floor of the building, slurping water as I walk.
Kev strides toward the punching bag, holding it as he turns to face me. “Go for it. Let it all out.”
I drop my jacket on the ground and rip my shirt up over my head. It floats to the floor as I pummel my fists into the bag, hitting it over and over, allowing my frustration and rage to fuel each punch.
By the time I’m done, sweat drips down my face and covers my back and I’m breathing heavily.
“Better?” Kev asks.
I shrug. “For now.” Because, honestly, I don’t know how I’m going to process these latest revelations.
“Come with me,” Kev says, tossing my jacket and shirt at me.
I follow him through a side door, up a flight of stairs, and out onto the roof. The weather is still mild, even though we are into October now, but there’s a decent breeze at this height, and I welcome the feel of it ghosting over my sweat-slickened skin.
“Selena is one of the bravest women I’ve ever met,” Keven tells me as we stand shoulder to shoulder, staring at Boston Common in the distance. “And that is one of the most shocking stories I’ve ever heard. And, trust me, I’ve heard some bad shit.”
He looks sideways at me. “I’m guessing this played a part in your breakup.” I nod. “But you’re back together now,” he adds. “And it’s the real deal.”
“It is,” I say, using my shirt to mop my damp brow. “She’s the one.”
“Then, you need to talk to someone, Keanu.” His eyes bore a hole in mine. “She’s not the only one who needs to process that fucked-up shit.”
I sigh, knowing he’s right. “I need to be there for her.”
He grips me by the shoulders. “You already are. But you’re no use to her if you can’t get a handle on your own feelings. Anyone would be the same in your shoes.” He lets go of me. “Hell, I want to destroy these fuckers for what they’ve done to her, and I barely know Selena. I can only imagine the shit going through your brain.”
“We’ve never talked about it in detail,” I admit, sliding my arms into my shirt. “And I used to wonder if my imagination was worse than knowing the truth.” I swallow the hard lump in my throat as I button my shirt. “Now, I know it wasn’t, because I had no clue it was that bad.”
