I released him.
“Ethan,” I said softly. “I?—”
He backed away, pulled his boxers and pants up before lifting his shirt off the floor. He put it on and buttoned it.
“The plan was to eat me alive,” E rasped. “I heard them talking about it. They planned on keeping me to torture, but eventually, I was the main menu. I-I have bite marks all over. It’s why I tattooed.”
I swallowed and stood. He stared at me as I unbuttoned my shirt. His green eyes traveled down my body, his face morphing from indifference to horror as he took in all the scars. Even beneath the tattoos, they were visible.
I took off my sunglasses and placed them on the coffee table before letting my shirt slide off completely. I turned so he could see my back.
“Fuck,” he choked out. His warm, soft fingers traced along the ugly, jagged scars carved into my skin.
I turned to face him again, and he didn’t hesitate to trace all the ugly scars on my abs and chest.
“They… They bit you, too,” he whispered, his voice shaking.
“They bit me. Cut me. Burned me,” I said softly, sitting and pushing my shoes and socks off.
He went to his knees and stared at my scarred feet.
“I kept kicking,” I murmured. “They didn’t like it. Then I tried to run. So they burned my feet.”
He ran his fingers along all the thick scars on the top of one of my feet, which I’d tatted. His fingers easily found the scars beneath, and he stared at me with tears in his eyes.
“It hurts still,” I admitted. “If I step just right. Nerve damage. When I kept trying to kick and run, they broke both my feet. They put my feet inside bags of coals and let me scream. Sometimes they fucked me while they did it. They broke my arms, too, because when I didn’t have my feet, I could still swing. And then…” my voice shook. “When my arms didn’t work anymore, I’d headbutt, so they punished my face.”
E stared into my eyes, tears in his.
“I-I thought Asylum did this to your eye,” he murmured.
I shook my head. “No. He would poke me with his fork, but he never hurt me like this. Everett did this to me.” I looked at my hands twisted together on my lap. “H-He made me cut my own face. Said if I didn’t, it would be you instead. He told me I was too pretty. So I did it. I did this. W-With my own nails in the beginning, then when it wasn’t good enough, he helped. He wouldn’t let me stop. With a broken arm, I carved my own faceas he gave me instructions before he helped, taking my hand in his and guiding me.”
I finally looked at E to see that he was crying silently.
“Don’t cry for me, E. You’ve wasted enough tears on me.”
“I’m sorry. This whole time, I thought you were just a dick, man. I thought you just escaped and let us go. I had no idea how bad it was. I thought you were selfish and just wanted Rosalie all to yourself because of the Enzo shit with the wedding. I didn’t know?—”
I reached out and cradled his face. “I wanted your freedom, and hers, and I would have died to give it. I still would. For both of you. If my death meant her happiness, if it meant you were free from all your demons, I would give it freely, Ethan. Even now. I would take your bad memories and nightmares straight to hell with me so that you could have relief.”
“You fucking asshole,” he choked out, tears streaming down his cheeks.
I leaned in and rested my forehead against his while still holding his face.
“You can hate me, brother. I accept that, but I love you. I will always love you. And I will always die for you without question. I fucked up and hurt you all. I know I did, but I wasn’t in a good place either. I was hurting and losing it. I wanted myRosieto be free. So I had to make sacrifices that killed different parts of me, but I would do it again. I would. For her. For you. Without pause, I would do it again.” I kissed his forehead like I used to. “I will tell Cole and Enzo. If it ends this story of the horsemen, so be it. The truth needs to come out.”
I released him and tried to sit back, but he gripped my hands and stared into my eyes.
“This is… This is hard for me.”
“I know,” I murmured.
“I visited your grave weekly, sometimes daily, for years. Whispering that I loved you. That I was sorry.”
“I heard you, E,” I replied softly. “I heard all of it.”
“How?” he asked, crinkling his brows as he stared at me.
