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Ignoring her, I pi
Bishop appeared behind me. “Jesus Christ!”
“Get out,” I commanded.
“Should I get Breakneck or one of the nurses?”
“Just get the fuck out.”
“Rev, she needs fucking sedation not only before she shreds you, but before she bleeds out.”
“Get. Out!” I bellowed.
Grumbling under his breath, Bishop stomped out of the bathroom. With my thighs bracing A
When I was done, I exhaled the breath I’d been holding. The roar in my ears and the pounding in my chest slowly began to dissipate.
Defeated, A
“Because it’s not your fucking time. If it was, you would have gone up in that blast with the rest of the women.” I raked a shaky hand through my hair. “Besides, you’re twenty-four years old. You’ve got your whole fucking life ahead of you.”
Shaking her head, she replied, “A tormented life of unfulfilled dreams.”
“You don’t know that. You can’t let this defeat you. You can’t let them defeat you. You take your life and Mendoza wins.”
“Easy for you to spout out all the self-help bullshit.”
“Actually, it isn’t.”
Her brows came together in confusion as inquisitive eyes met mine. “What do you mean?”
In that moment, as the hellish ghosts of my past closed in around me, the pressure to breathe had my lungs feeling like a squeezed accordion. I had never spoken of my rape—the actual words had never left my lips. My father knew because he had witnessed the end, and Breakneck knew because he had experienced the aftermath. It had been a horrible secret we kept from my mother and brothers.
A
The intense burden of the secret I was about to divulge weighed on me physically, and I began to sway back and forth. My left leg gave way, and I found myself collapsing onto the floor. I shifted my leg with a grimace.
“What happened to you?”
“I got shot leaving Mendoza’s.”
“When you were carrying me?” A
“Not that it makes any difference, but yeah.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“You have nothing to be sorry for.”
A
“Hear me when I say you can’t keep thinking like that.”
“And what makes you an expert?”
“Look, I can’t say I understand exactly how you feel because I didn’t experience the same torment as you.” Holding her gaze, I continued. “But when I was eleven years old, I was raped.”
A
When I finished speaking, I stared down at the floor, unable to look at A
A rustling sound finally drew my stare from the bloodstained tile. I looked up to see A
With a shrug, I replied, “You don’t need to say anything.”
She shook her head. “How could I hear a story like yours and not have something to say?” She wet her dry, cracked lips. “I would say I was sorry, but that simple word seems so insignificant.”
More than anyone I knew, A
Tears welled in her sad eyes. “You were so young. Just a baby. Me . . . I was old enough to know better. In some ways, I got what I deserved. I walked right into the lion’s den.”
“Don’t you fucking say that!” I shouted, my fists clenching at my side. My words and tone caused A
Tentatively I reached my hand out to touch her cheek. When she didn’t pull away, I brushed my thumb along her jawline. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“It’s okay.”
“A
A mirthless laugh tumbled from her lips. “Honestly, Rev, you’re too forgiving. I’m twenty-four years old, not fourteen. I knew better. But still I asked a man I’d never met to take me on a motorcycle ride. I allowed myself to become a victim.”
“Yeah, well, maybe I spent years blaming myself for drinking that coffee when I knew I wasn’t supposed to have any. I wasted so many nights lying in bed thinking I deserved what happened to me because even though I was drugged, I hadn’t fought back hard enough. That there was something I had done wrong to make Kurt want me over my brothers.” I shook my head. “It’s all bullshit, A
She remained silent for a few minutes and I could tell she was deep in thought. “After you were . . .” She swallowed hard as she met my eyes.
“Raped,” I enunciated the word for her. “I’ve been a fucking coward about the word long enough.”
She gave a quick nod of her head. “After you were raped, did you ever want to hurt yourself?”
Her i
Closing my eyes, I pictured myself far, far away from the blood-soaked room. I waded into the crystal-clear waters of a stream. As the cool liquid encased my body, peace began to hum through my veins. The farther I went into the water, the greater the relief became.
I opened my eyes to find A
“A visualization technique Breakneck taught me many years ago.”
“You calmed yourself down right in front of me. One minute it was like you were going over the edge, and then the next . . .”
“I had peace,” I finished for her.
“Yes,” she murmured.
“I was pretty volatile there for a while after what happened to me. The emotions coupled with preteen hormones made me explosive. I was throwing punches at my brothers, at kids at school. It was when I took a swing at Breakneck that he realized I needed an outlet.”