“Sorry I took so long. Killian's shower is amazing, and I seriously considered never getting out. Okay. Let’s get this over with.”
Killian grabs four glasses, one for wine and three for whiskey. He pours us all a drink before bringing Heather hers with a genuine smile on his face. Knox and I take ours and go into the living room. All three of us sit on the couch, while Heather sits alone in the leather chair across from us.
She gulps her entire glass of wine before placing it on the floor. Sitting with her legs crossed, she takes a nervous breath.
“I’ll start with background information. Is that okay?”
Killian leans forward with his elbows on his knees and his glass in both hands.
“Yes, baby. Whatever you're comfortable sharing is welcome. Do you want more wine?”
She nods, and Kill gets up and refills her glass and sets the wine bottle beside her on the floor before handing her the glass.
Once he sits back down, Heather closes her eyes.
“Grave is in a gang. I have no idea how Jedediah met him, but he pays Grave for drugs. Jedediah doesn’t ever see the customers, just the money. Grave doesn’t take a cut. Instead, he’s paid with girls. Whatever girl he wants, he gets. He is allowed to do whatever he wants to them, and it always includes violence. Nothing turns him on more than hurting young girls. As terrible as the men in my family are, they are no match for him.”
Heather is quiet for several minutes before she continues. Her fingers shake slightly around the glass of wine.
“I was thirteen when I met him. All the girls were lined up in a row. Children and grown women—including my mother. He approached every one of us and spoke briefly with all of us before he made his choice. I prayed for him to choose someone else. What kind of a person does that?”
We watch her silently as she shakes her head in disgust at herself.
“He chose me. It was painful and violent. I wanted to die.”
The urge to go to Heather and take her in my arms is potent, but I don’t. Maybe that’s why she chose to sit alone—to give herself some distance.
“When I was fourteen, I got pregnant. And even though I wanted to keep the baby, I was told we were getting rid of it. Like a bag of useless trash. An abortion was scheduled, but I refused to go. I was beaten bloody for not obeying the Prophet’s orders, but I was willing to die to save my child. A couple months later, Grave chose me again, as he frequently did. He held up a long metal tool, pointed at the end, and smiled. I’ll never forget his words, hard as I try.
Tears fall from her cheeks, her small hands trembling as she relives her nightmare.
“This will break your water. You’ll give birth and watch your baby die. You could’ve done this the easy way, but instead, you chose this. If your baby is born alive, you will witness me choking the fucking life out of the ungodly brat.”
It’s difficult not to go to her, not only for me but for Killian and Carter too. Still, we fight to sit painfully quiet as we wait for her to continue.
“He was so proud of himself.”
Killian speaks up, his voice sounding angry because of what she went through.
“That’s enough. You don’t have to do this to yourself, baby. None of us want to re-victimize you.”
Lifting her head, she glances at him with glassy eyes.
“Let me do this, Killian. If any of it helps, it’s worth it.”
He nods his acceptance but balls his hands into fists. All three of us would like to get our hands on this motherfucker, but Kill is the only one who will.
Heather shuts her eyes tight and takes a deep cleansing breath before re-opening them.
“I tried to stop him, but he was too strong. After I punched him in the face and kneed him in the balls, he tied me to the bed. I had no choice but to lie there, helplessly, as he fucked me with the sharp metal instrument. That’s how my little girl died. She was butchered. And so was I. According to the doctor, I shouldn’t have lived, and sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”
“Did the hospital not call the police?” Carter asks, his voice raw with emotion.
“When the police are called on our family, we lie—always because the consequences of telling the truth are too severe.”
“Tesoro,” I say, sounding as anguished as I feel.
She looks at each of us briefly before staring into her empty wine glass.
