My jaw tightens.
“He’d get mean first.” My throat burns slightly. “Then loud. Then violent.” The words sound strangely calm coming out of me. Like I’m talking about somebody else’s life instead of my own.
Maybe that’s how I survived it.
Peyton stays silent behind me, hanging on my every word.
“I used to tell people I bruised easily,” I admit quietly. “Told coaches I fell during hockey practice. Told teachers I was clumsy.”
The memory makes nausea twist sharply in my stomach.
Because even back then?
Part of me knew nobody really wanted the truth.
I exhale slowly through my nose.
“When I saw Ethan yesterday…” My chest tightens violently. “I knew.” My voice roughens on the word. “Knew what that look meant. Knew why he got quiet the second his father walked over.”
Rage stirs hot beneath my ribs again. “Knew why he flinched.”
The cabin feels suffocatingly silent now.
Peyton’s eyes burn into me.
“You wanna know the worst part?” I ask quietly. I finally look at her.
“The second that guy grabbed him…” I shake my head once. “I wanted to hurt him.”
The confession hangs between us, ugly and raw.
“I looked at Ethan, and all I could think about was somebody should’ve stopped my father, too.”
My throat closes up.
“And then all day today I kept thinking…” I laugh bitterly. “What kind of person reacts like that?”
Peyton’s expression breaks apart slowly.
It’s full of heartbreak. Understanding. Softness.
It wrecks me even worse.
“I saw that video today and completely lost my fucking mind.” My jaw clenches hard. “You were terrified. And yes, I was at training camp.” I hang my head. “But you wouldn’t have run out of here if I hadn’t been too busy hiding upstairs last night like some coward.”
“Daltyn—”
“What if he was right?” The words come out harsher than I intend. Broken.
Peyton freezes.
I force myself to say it anyway.
“What if I take after my father?” My chest aches violently now. “What if one day I stop fighting it?”
Silence crashes heavily through the cabin.
Then Peyton slowly crosses the kitchen until she stands directly in front of me. Close enough that I can feel her warmth.
