“No. We need to talk about this. We need to work through this,” he insists.
“You just killed your mother. You shouldn’t have done that. Not for me.” The shock of everything that just transpired is finally hitting me.
“I don’t need her. I need you, Evie. I will not live without you again. It’s not happening.”
I tilt my head to the side.That’s it.Everything clicks. He’s using me to replace her. The girlfriend he claims he killed.
“I’m not her,” I remind him.
“Not who?”
“I’m not Laura,” I clarify.
“I know,” he says.
“You need to let me go. I can’t do this.” I don’twant to cry. I can’t fall apart, even if my heart is breaking.
“No.” I hear the determination in his voice. The hardness too.
“You don’t want me, Emmanuel. I’m not worth this kind of trouble. I’m sure as shit not worth killing your mother over. You don’t even know me! You don’t even know?—”
“Then tell me,” he cuts me off. “Why the hell wouldn’t you be worth it, Evie? Because I can guarantee there is no one I would ever put before you.”
I shake my head again. I have to tell him. He’s not going to let me go unless he knows the entire truth. He has to see all the ugly, broken parts of me. When he does, he won’t want to keep me.
My throat goes dry. This isn’t something I’ve ever talked about. I hate thinking about it, let alone talking about it.
I move towards the bed and sit on the edge of the mattress. “It started when I was twelve…”
Emmanuel’s body stiffens. “What did?”
“I don’t remember falling asleep. I remember winning a pageant and being in the car in my dress. When I woke up the next day in the hotel room, I was naked, and there was pain. But I didn’t know what happened. But there was blood on the white sheets. I told my mom and she said I’d gotten myperiod. That’s all it was.” I shake my head. “I was twelve, so I believed her.”
I take another deep breath and close my eyes.
“But it kept happening. After every pageant I won, I would wake up naked, sore, and there would be bruises.” My voice is quiet. “One time, I remember waking up and someone was on top of me. A man,” I admit. “He yelled at me and then something pricked my arm. When I told my mom about this incident, she said it was just a nightmare and that I needed to forget it.”
I don’t know what Emmanuel is doing. I can’t look at him. I open my eyes and stare at the carpet.
“It just kept happening. It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I really understood what was going on. I mean, I knew, but I wanted to believe everything my mom said. It was easier if she was telling me the truth.”
“What happened when you were sixteen, Evie?” Emmanuel asks, his voice hoarse.
When I glance up at him, his jaw is tight and his palms are clenched. I’ve never been afraid of him, never saw him as the scary cartel boss I know he is, not even when I witnessed him kill his own mother. But right now, he looks every bit as scary as he is supposed to be.
“I… I was pregnant,” I say quietly. “I told my mom. I didn’t know how it had happened. I never had a boyfriend. I didn’t even remember ever having sex… The next pageant I went to, a Vegas event, I won. And the following day, I woke up in a hotel room and I wasn’t pregnant anymore. My mom told me that they took care of it.” I look down at my hands as they twist around the bedsheets. “They gave me an abortion while I was passed out.”
Emmanuel kneels in front of me. His hands cup my cheeks. “I’m going to kill every single fucking one of them. I will deliver their heads to you on a silver platter. I promise this will not go unpunished, Evie.”
“It won’t matter. It won’t fix anything, E. Now you know. Now you can see all the ugliness that’s underneath the pretty skin. I’m not ever going to be normal. You need to let me go,” I tell him.
“No.” Emmanuel’s voice is firm. “There isn’t a part of you I don’t love. You are mine. Even the broken parts, every last shard. They’re mine and I’m not giving them back.”
“I need to go home. I can’t stay here.” I peer down at where he’s still kneeling in front of me. I don’t want to leave him. I have to. We are not good for each other.
“I’ll take you home,” he says.
“Thank you.” I sigh in relief. Maybe what I toldhim is finally sinking in. I’m not the kind of complication he needs.
