Rather than throw me onto my stomach and accept the challenge, he says, “I think we should talk.” He releases me and sits up, his back pressed against the headboard.
I do the same, a hard pit forming in my stomach. “Oh? What about?”
“First of all, are you doing okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“After what happened today. With Todd and Lacey.”
Oh.That.
“Mmm. I’m fine.” I force a smile, really not wanting to get into how it triggered me. “What happened when you talked to Todd?”
He lets out a long sigh. “He stripped his funding for the expansion of the camp.”
My stomach sinks. “What? No. Ash, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I never meant for?—”
“Stop.”
I nearly flinch at the harshness of that single syllable.
He turns to face me and collects my hands. “Do not, for one second, blame this on yourself. Todd is a lousy piece of shit.”
Tears flood my eyes, my vision going blurry.
“I’m serious, Claire. You did the right thing.”
I retract my hands to wipe at my damp cheeks and sip in air, willing my racing heart to calm down. “But I didn’t back then.”
Without responding, he rubs my wrist and patiently waits for me to continue.
“I should have told someone. And I wanted to. I just figured it would be easier to avoid him and finish school. I never imagined I’d see him again. But what Todd did to Lacey made me so furious. There was no way I’d make the same mistake twice. And what you said about killing anyone who did something likethat to Bea… I felt that.” My breath hitches and a sob escapes me.
“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you.” He wraps me in his arms, transferring me into his lap and rocking back and forth. “Shh. You’re safe. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”
I believe him. But that promise has an expiration date. Because when I go back to the city, he won’t be around to protect me.
32
Asher
With the Harmonsforfeiting their funding, all plans to expand the camp have been put on hold for the foreseeable future.
It doesn’t affect the repairs needed for the storm-damaged cabin next door, thank fuck, though that’s a small relief in the grand scheme of things. Construction for the new development was supposed to begin shortly after Labor Day, but now that there’s no cash flow, all those plans have gone to shit.
And I feel like a failure. Like I’ve failed Daisy. Her—our—dream of creating a state-of-the-art children’s center, complete with a STEAM program and universal design and accessibility, won’t be possible anytime soon. We already comply with all ADA standards, but we wanted inclusion for all disabilities. Istillwant that.
I spent nearly an hour last week trying to convince Lacey to press charges against Todd, but she refused. In the end, I was forced to respect her wishes.
“I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t want justice,” I gripe to Claire one evening as we relax in the hot tub.
Bea is spending the night with my in-laws, so I have Claire all to myself.
Her tone is patient and gentle when she says, “Women are hesitant to report sexual harassment or assault for a variety of reasons that others may never understand. Please don’t judge her.”
“I’m not judging her, I promise. I’m just angry on her behalf.”
“And that’s what makes you one of the good guys.”
