“What do you want?” I whisper, leaning against the counter for support.
“We want to help you.” Adalene looks up at Mateo with something that looks an awful lot like scolding, and his shoulders deflate.
“Why? Why now?”
It’s McCrae who speaks, his voice hushed as he crosses his arms. “This can’t go on, V. You deserve better. They deserve to know, and you deserve so much better.”
I look at him incredulously. Of all the people I thought understood me.Where can I even begin?
As if reading my mind, he straightens, looking at Mateo. “I met your sister on the floor of an employees-only bathroom at Del Maria. She was being attacked by a man, and I came across them.”
I hold my breath as McCrae recounts the story, watching my brother’s face fall with each word. When McCrae gets the part about smashing the guy’s head against the sink, Mateo’s eyes harden. “Killing people’s never the answer.”
I roll my eyes. “Says the person who’s never had to fight for their life.”
“V, stop. You had all the same privileges as me, all the same opportunities. Dad was always taking you to work with him—his prodigal daughter. I could never compete with that, so I didn’t bother trying. I knew you wanted the family business, and I did everything I could to stay out of your way. It’s not my fault that?—”
“Say another word, and I promise, I’ll never speak to you again,” I snap, my patience for hearing his sob story running out.
Faith moves between us, the red on her face only brighter as she nears. “Please, Mateo. You don’t know anything. Listen to your sister for once. Do you really think she became an angry person just because? Angry people are sad people who others stopped paying attention to.”
I stare at her. Hearing my life summed into one perfect sentence knocks the breath from my lungs, and words seem farther away than ever. When Mateo looks at me again, his face is far more vulnerable—open and afraid—and part of me wants to deny him any more truths. I want him to hurt the way I hurt.
I shake my head.I don’t want him to hurt, not even for a minute.It’s why I’ve spent my entire life icing him out. If I let him in now, if I tell him everything, it’ll crush him.
We’ve gone too long trading sharp barbs and venomous words—what if we can never be fixed?Isn’t trying and holding on to the hope better than facing that reality?I can’t take back all the horrible things I’ve done, and the fear of failing as I try to reassemble the fractured remnants of my pathetic life is too much for me to face.
“Let him decide how to feel, V.” Faith nods, giving me a small smile of encouragement. I don’t know how she always knows what I’m thinking, but not for the first time, I’m begrudgingly grateful.
I face away from Mateo, staring out the kitchen window. For several moments, I watch the horses milling in the grass, their tails swishing in the fall breeze.
“I was fifteen the first time Father took me to work with him. Do you remember? It was the night you pulled me out of the pond behind the house?” I wait for Mateo to speak.
“Yes, I remember.” His voice is feeble, like remembering that night is as painful for him as it is for me.
Bristling at the implication, I say the next part without sensitivity, instantly regretting it as Mateo grunts in pain. “Father made me have sex with three men that night, to insure the casino would stay open. It was a banker and a lawyer, and I’m not sure what the third guy did, but they were important. Really important.” I lick my lips, the first angry tear skittering over my cheek before I continue. “So important, your precious father sold my virginity to three men who took turns while holding me down.”
The room’s so silent, I become faintly aware of a chain rattling against a gate outside the window. But I can’t stop.
The words pour out of me, and even though I give them the shortened version of every horrible encounter, my retelling takes well over an hour.
When I’m finished, my eyes burn, raw and achy with the weight of a thousand tears. My fingers tingle, and I no longer know if I can face them—any of them—again.
“The guy who attacked me yesterday was one of Father’s security men back when I was young and Father was using me. The guy knew everything about what I’d endured. His son did too; he was the guy McCrae found attacking me.” I rub my aching eyes as the final pieces click into place. “He wanted to ruin me—he said so. I’m sure he was the one who tried to shoot me; maybe he’s even responsible for the other things that’ve gone wrong around here, I don’t know. But I had to—he was never going to stop?—”
The words die on my tongue. I’m all talked out—bare and vulnerable.
A hand wraps around my wrist gently, tugging me to turn around. Mateo’s arms envelop me instantly, his hand holding the back of my head, crushing me to him. The warm feel and spicy scent of him fills me with a sense of peace almost instantly.
He doesn’t ask a single question. He doesn’t offer any doubts or reservations.
He just clings to me, and I let him have the weight of the knowledge, of the horrors I’ve faced so long alone. Mateo holds me for several moments, and I become aware of the sounds of sniffling. I pull back, finding Adalene’s face streaked in tears as she holds Faith’s hand.
They look at me with such devestation. I don’t know how to handle it, so I look away, ashamed.
“V, I wish I’d known.” There’s no accusation, no pity still. Just pain.
Pain, I understand.
