And I remembered. It all came flooding back—the reason why I had panicked in the first place. Ry had seen it. He'd seen what I'd hidden for years. What I had been taught by my parents to be ashamed of. What I had done to myself and what I still secretly wanted to do and thought of nearly every day. What I hated myself for. He had seen it, and he had given me the look that I despised.
I pushed away from the wall, needing to desperately escape the pity and the sorrowful looks. I nearly slipped under the water again until the same strong arms that saved me last time grabbed me once more. Gage's arms. I shoved away and used what was left of my failing strength to pull myself through the water again. My whole body was trembling. It was awkward and difficult, nothing like the smooth glide through the pool when I had completed my laps just a short time ago. Eventually, I managed to make it to the shallow end, climb up the steps, and out of the water.
I stood there dripping salt water all over the pool deck, soaking the concrete as I glanced around. My eyes were darting around like a spooked wild animal's as I searched desperately for a towel. One small, sane part of my brain knew that I couldn't walk through their house the way I was.
Suddenly, an arm thrust a towel in front of my face. I took it, just barely noticing the scars of a horrendous burn covering the hand that was offering the towel to me.
With chattering teeth that had nothing to do with the cold night air, I gratefully took the towel without a word. I hugged it to myself as I turned away and scurried quickly to the pool gate. While using the large fluffy towel to pat myself dry, without bothering to wrap it around me, I fumbled with the latch. Before I could cry out in frustration that my trembling fingers wouldn't work properly, the same scarred hand that handed me the towel reached over and flipped up the latch.
I started through the gate and crossed the patio quickly, too quick. My feet slipped once, threatening to send me to the hard ground before I managed to stop myself from falling. I slipped through the sliding glass door, barely remembering to close it behind me, and without bothering to change back into my clothes, I just snatched them up from the bathroom. I grabbed my shoes and made my way through the house.
Chapter 15
Parker
After a restless night where I tossed and turned, dreaming of blood and my parents’ horrified faces, I woke up to dark circles under my eyes. Even liberal use of concealer did a poor job of hiding the effects of my nightmares, so I resorted to wearing sunglasses as I stepped out onto the porch to meet Detective Nakamura, where he waited in the idling SUV.
I gave a terse nod of acknowledgment as I climbed inside and set my bag at my feet, ignoring his greeting. After buckling my seat belt, he began to drive down the long driveway.
After we’d driven for several miles, Ry broke the silence. “Parker,” he began quietly, “I’m sorry about last night. If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay. I just want you to know-”
I stopped him, holding up a hand without turning to look at his face. I refused to see his expression and the new way he’d start looking at me now that he knew my secret.
“I don’t need your pity,” I said shortly, my tone harsh. “Let’s just pretend you never saw anything at all and just go back to being temporary co-workers, okay?”
A part of me knew he didn’t deserve it, that the way my parents had treated me when they found out had broken something inside of me. Even after the three years of counseling I’d gone through, I couldn’t stop the knee-jerk reaction I felt when I saw the look on his face. But it was there deep inside, that broken, hurt teenager who needed her parents, but instead had been told I was a disgrace to my sister’s memory. Maybe it was because I’d started to feel too much for the man and his friends that made it hurt so much more than it should.
Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes and jerked the wheel, making my sunglasses slide off my face and causing me to gasp. I reached for the dashboard, gripping it tightly as the car swerved off the road and came to a sudden stop on the shoulder, kicking up dust and rocks. My head swiveled around to stare at Ry, my mouth hanging open from shock.
“What the fuck, Ry-” I started to ask, only to stop at his furious expression. Since we’d gotten to know each other, I had become used to his friendly smile. He’d never looked at me the way he did at that moment. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he snarled.
“Ry,” I whispered.
“No!” he cut me off again. “You don’t get to accuse me of that stupid shit.”
I continued to sit there with my mouth gaping open, watching this angry version of Ry as he glared daggers at me. “You think I pity you? I don’t fucking pity you, Parker! Everybody has scars. So you gave them to yourself.” He threw his hands up before clenching them into fists and resting them on his thighs. “Something happened. Something horrible, I get that. Something horrible happened to you, Parker, but you’re still fucking here, aren’t you?” He leaned towards me with a snarl, not letting me look away even if I could.
“That tells me you’re strong. I don’t fucking pity you because you have fucking scars, Parker. I feel sad because you went through something horrible enough that you gave yourself scars. I’m sad that you had to go through that. But I’m real fucking glad that you were strong enough to come out the other fucking side. That means you’re strong. I don’t. Fucking. Pity. You. I’ll tell you how strong you are every fucking day if I have to until you finally believe it.”
With every word he said, a tear fell until they were streaming down my face. I never felt strong because of what I had done to myself. I’d always looked at it as if I were weak. My parents had looked at me as if I were weak. They hated me for every scar I’d given myself. Every line I’d drawn into my flesh with a razor was something they saw as a weakness. They had thrown it back into my face and made sure I knew that Mariposa would have been just as disappointed in me as they were. They told me I was dishonoring her memory until I believed it.
But Ryu Nakamura was telling me that I was strong because I survived the pain.
Suddenly, I felt my seatbelt loosen, and my body was lifted from my seat. I found myself pulled over the console as Ry wrapped his arms around me. He held me in his warm embrace as he comforted me.
“Your parents were idiots,” he whispered, making me realize that I had spoken all my pain out loud. I hiccuped as I listened to him, his soothing voice healing a broken piece of my soul. “Is Mariposa your sister?” I nodded against his chest.
“She was killed,” I mumbled, my voice watery with tears.
“Is that why you became an FBI agent?” he asked. I nodded again. “I think she’d be proud of you,” he said, resting his cheek against my hair. I sighed, hoping that he was right. “You’re so strong, Parker. You’re smart, and you’re brave. And you’re absolutely stunning. Anybody would be affected by the loss ofsomebody they loved. I know it hurt, and you had to let out that pain.” I nodded my head because it did hurt. It still hurts so much, I feel like I would drown in the pain some days. “You use that pain to do good with your life. Your sister would be proud of you,” he said again, and I started to believe him.
I pulled back, and I looked at him with watery eyes and sniffled. “Thank you.”
He kissed my forehead and looked at me, his dark eyes soft and full of tenderness. “You have nothing to thank me for.”
“I’m sorry about last night and this morning.”
“Don’t be sorry, Parker.”
