Reeve lowered his eyes, as though he felt guilty, and I wanted to assure him that Amber and I had been very different in our wants. Wanted him to not worry that those were the things I was after, in case he was feeling bad about not offering it.
But it wasn’t the time. This wasn’t that story and I’d already hinted at those things earlier in the day, the kinds of things I wanted from a man. “Anyway, when I mentioned concern over Bridge she denied it. Said that I was the one who was into ‘the really sadistic things’ and so I saw things out of context.”
“Ouch.”
“She had her reasons for saying that.” After everything she’d seen from me, she was justified. “She also told me that if I was looking for an invitation into their bedroom that it wasn’t happening because she and Bridge were completely monogamous.”
“Double ouch.”
“No. It was fine. And something that warranted being said after our past live-in relationships.” I caught Reeve’s skeptical expression. “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing. Go on.” Except, he went on instead of letting me. “I just wonder if you were selling yourself short.”
Maybe this would be a little of that story after all. “I didn’t have a pretty past before this Reeve. I told you that earlier. I’d earned every assumption she made about me.”
“People change.”
“I didn’t.”
“But you said you were trying. She should have at least given you credit for that.” He was oddly defensive, as if he was taking Amber’s accusations personally.
“I was trying. She knew better than I that it wouldn’t get me anywhere because it was in my nature. I’ve accepted that now, but I hadn’t then. No matter what you do, you can’t deny who you are, Reeve. I can’t deny who I am.”
His expression hardened, and I had the distinct feeling he didn’t like hearing that. “Go on,” he said.
Now I was the one who felt defensive. Did he expect me to try to change those things again? I wouldn’t. I couldn’t, and I’d made that clear. And he hadn’t seemed like it had bothered him earlier. “Is that a problem?” I asked cautiously. “That I can’t change?”
He softened just slightly. “No. No. Of course not. Go on.”
His reaction still had me befuddled, but I pushed it off and ventured back to my tale. “So, what’s next?…” The worst parts, that’s what. The blood and pain and bruises that went so deep they could be felt for months. Longer. I felt a rush of panic just thinking about it, let alone saying it.
So, maybe I wouldn’t say it. “Jesus, this story is really a damper. I shouldn’t be telling —”
“Finish it, Emily.” It was his commanding tone. The one I couldn’t argue with.
“Okay.” I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, my mouth dry. Best to just blurt the rest out. Cold. Clinically. I focused on the fire. “One night, after everyone had gone to bed, I had a knock on my door. I thought it was her, but it was Bridge.”
If I looked in the darkness, anywhere other than at the flame flickering in front of me, I could see him again, his face etched with cruelty, alcohol fuming on his breath, his eyes gleaming with wicked intent, the weapon in his hand.
“I didn’t invite him in, but he came in anyway. I told him I wasn’t interested. I told him no. But he didn’t listen. Said that he’d heard all the stories about what a bad girl I was and how I liked it naughty. And after all his generosity, I owed him.”
“He raped you.” It wasn’t a question and I knew Reeve had said it so that I wouldn’t have to. I nodded, barely perceptibly. An inch of forward motion with my head. It was such a hard word to come to terms with because of all I’d allowed men to do to me in the past. Hard to defend myself, as women always had to do when they used the R word. And hadn’t Bridge been right about me? I was a bad girl. I did like it naughty. It wasn’t that I thought I’d deserved what he did. I just didn’t know that I didn’t either.
I wrapped my arms around myself wondering if Reeve felt the same. Wondering if he thought that Bridge had every right. I wouldn’t blame him if he did.
Forcing myself not to care, I went on. “I tried to fight him.” The one time in my life I’d fought. It did no good. “But he was a big guy. And he had a pair of scissors.”
Reeve cursed under his breath.
I shut my eyes, closed my lids tight, tight. Blocking out the images, the memories. Putting up the wall.
When it was back in place, I opened my eyes, cleared my throat once again, and jumped to the conclusion. “After it was over —”
“No.” Reeve was so forceful, so commanding, he left no room for me to do anything but halt. I lifted my eyes to his. “Don’t skip to the end,” he said. “Tell me what he did. Tell me the details.”
My stomach lurched, my worry from earlier confirmed. “I’m not telling you this so you can get off on the fucked-up —”
He lurched forward to the edge of his seat. “You think I’m getting off on this? I want to have him killed, Emily. I want to know his name so I can track him down and have him destroyed. But first I want to know everything he made you suffer so that I can make sure he suffers equally.”
His rage stirred and stunned me. It moved me that he would say he’d kill for me, except that he might actually mean it and then I was still moved but then I felt guilty about it.
And regardless of what he meant, I wasn’t worth that kind of trouble. “Reeve —”