Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Daniel opens the door before I can knock. His face goes pale when he sees Reeves and Greg flanking me. Both of them are intimidating as all hell; both are about six feet four, man buns, tattoos and piercings. They look like they belong on the Sons of Anarchy set.
Daniel's face twists into something ugly, his serious blue eyes hardening with indignation and rage as he takes in the scene before him—me flanked by two towering men who look ready to throw him through a wall. Really, he should be scared, but he doesn't seem to be. "What the hell is this?"
"Moving day." Reeves shoulders past him, forcing Daniel to step back. "We're helping Liza get her things."
"Liza, please." Daniel reaches for me. "We need to talk about—"
Reeves grabs his wrist, twists it away. "Don't touch her."
"This is my apartment. You can't just—"
"You hit her." Reeves steps closer, towers over him despite Daniel being six feet himself. "You put your hands on her. You think I'm going to let that slide?"
Daniel's face flushes. "She was with another man. She—"
"I don't give a shit what she did." Reeves shoves him, hard. Daniel stumbles backward and crashes to the floor. "How do you like that? How does it feel?"
Daniel looks up from the hardwood, eyes wide, shocked. Hurt.
I see something crack in his expression. Vulnerability. Pain. For a second, I almost feel bad for him.
Then I remember the slap. The blood. The coldness in his eyes when he called me a slut.
"Let's just get her stuff," Greg says quietly, already heading toward the bedroom.
It takes well over an hour. Clothes, books, my thrift store treasures. My pink plaid pants. The vintage jacket with the embroidered flowers. Everything that makes me, me. Everything Daniel hated.
When Reeves and Greg haul my armchair down to the truck—the one I found at an estate sale, the one Daniel called gaudy—I tear up. They get me. They really get me.
I'm alone with Daniel for a moment. He sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands.
"Liza, please. I'm sorry. I never meant to—"
"To what? Hit me? Control me? Make me feel small?"
"I love you."
"No." I shake my head, continue folding a sweater. "You don't love me. You love the idea of who you wanted me to be."
"That's not true."
"Sit." I point at the bed.
He obeys.
I pack in silence for a beat, then speak. "I'm going to tell you a story."
"I was sixteen," I start, hands trembling as I fold some jeans. "Ethan—my brother, he lives in New York now, as you know—he took me to a bush party. One of those crazy bonfire things with fifty kids getting wasted in the woods."
Daniel doesn't move. Doesn't speak.
"I felt so cool, you know? The older kids actually wanted me there. I wore my favorite top, these ripped jeans I'd customized myself. Packed a few coolers. It was perfect. Warm summer night, stars everywhere."
I set the jeans down and stare at my hands.
"I drank. Chatted. Had a few puffs of some girl's joint. Felt buzzed and happy and alive. Then Marco showed up."
Daniel shifts on the bed.
"Marco was Ethan's friend. Nineteen. Gorgeous. Charming. I'd had this stupid crush on him forever, but he never looked at me twice. That night, though, he finally saw me. Came right up to me, all smiles, started talking like I was the only person at that party."
My throat tightens.
"He had this cooler full of booze. Gave me two Mike's Hard Lemonades. I know I shouldn't have drunk them on top of what I'd already had, but I was sixteen and stupid and desperate to impress him."
I pick up another sweater and crush it against my chest.
"He took me for a walk. Led me away from everyone, deep into the bush where no one could see. Pushed me against a tree. Kissed me."
Daniel's breathing changes.
"It wasn't my first kiss, but I was inexperienced. And when he shoved his hand down my pants, when I said no, when I tried to push him away—"
My voice cracks.
"He told me I wanted it. That I'd been begging for it all night with my tight jeans and flirty smile.
He ripped my favorite top. Pushed me to the ground, and held me down.
And when I screamed, he covered my mouth and told me to shut the fuck up.
I tried to fight him off, but I was completely wasted. "
Daniel is without words as he listens.
"It was horrible,” I go on. “The worst thing that had ever happened to me.
It hurt like hell, yes, but it was more than that.
.. it wrecked me. I felt completely powerless lying in the dirt, pinned down, unable to make it stop, no matter how hard I tried.
And after... God, after that was almost worse.
I felt dirty, like I could never get clean no matter how many showers I took, how hard I scrubbed my skin.
I felt ruined, like something precious had been stolen from me and I'd never get it back.
For months, I couldn't look at myself in the mirror without seeing what he'd done. For years…"
I look at Daniel now. Really look at him.
I hear footsteps in the hallway. Reeves and Greg are back.
I cross to the bedroom door and shut it. I turn the lock—the click is loud in the quiet room.
Daniel looks up, surprised. I'm not afraid of him. He thinks this is all for show, that I'm being dramatic, that eventually I'll come crawling back because who else would want damaged goods like me?
"What happened next?" His voice is softer now, almost gentle. The voice he used when we first started dating. "Did you report it?"
"No." I lean against the door. "My mother and Ethan told me not to."
His eyebrows shoot up. "What?"
"I went to them crying, bleeding, terrified. Told them everything. And you know what they said?" I laugh, bitter. "That I'd willingly gone into the woods with him. That I'd been drinking. That it would just be my word against his, and everyone would think I was asking for it anyway."
"Jesus."
"Ethan was protecting himself, really. Didn't want to be kicked out of his precious friend group. Didn't want the drama. And my mother..." I shake my head. "She actually said, 'this kind of thing happens with boys sometimes.’ Like it was normal. Like I should just accept it and move on."
Daniel stands, furious. "That's insane. The bastard got away with it?"
"Yes." I meet his eyes. "And no."
He goes still.
"I never told you this story," I continue, "because I didn't want to relive it. Didn't want your pity or your questions or your judgment. But you asked me once why I don't talk to my mom much. Why Ethan and I are distant even though he doesn't live that far away. Now you know."
"Why are you telling me now?"
"Because you hit me." My voice doesn't waver. "Because you called me a slut. Because you made me feel exactly the way Marco did—powerless, small, trapped. And I swore I'd never let anyone do that to me again."
Daniel's face crumples. "Liza, I'm not—I would never—"
"You already did."
Someone knocks on the door. Reeves. "Liza? You okay in there?"
"I'm fine," I call back. "Almost done." I take a breath, steadier now. "I saw him again about six months later."
Daniel blinks. "What?"
"Marco. At a house party. I'd been planning it for weeks, working up the courage." I cross my arms, lean harder against the door. "I walked right up to him, all smiles. Flirted. Acted like what happened in the woods was no big deal. Like I'd wanted it all along."
"Liza—"
"He bought it. Of course he did. His ego was massive. Thought I was just another stupid girl who couldn't resist him." I laugh, sharp. "We went upstairs to a bedroom. He started kissing me, pawing at me. Then he asked me to go down on him."
Daniel's face drains of color.
"So I got on my knees." I watch his expression shift to horror. "Unzipped his jeans. Pulled him out. And I pretended for just a second or two, just long enough for him to relax."
"Oh my God."
"Then I bit down." I mime it with my teeth, a quick snap. "As hard as I could. Tore right into that thing.”
Daniel leans forward. "You—what?"
“I heard he needed surgery and got a bad infection.” I shrug. "Grapevine talk, you know how it is."
"Jesus Christ, Liza."
"He tried to attack me after. Screaming, bleeding everywhere. But I came prepared." I tap my jacket pocket. "Pepper spray. Hit him right in the face while he was clutching himself. Left him crying on the floor."
Daniel just stares, mouth open.
"I know you hate how I'm always chewing gum. Life-long habit. It came in handy that day. Turns out all that Hubba Bubba I was chewing back then gave me a jaw like a steel trap." I smile, but there's nothing warm in it. "And all that rage I'd been carrying? It had to go somewhere."
"That's... you could've been charged. Arrested."
"Maybe. But he never reported it. Funny how that works, isn't it? Didn't want everyone knowing what happened. Didn't want to admit a sixteen-year-old girl almost bit off his cock."
I cross the room slowly, deliberately. Daniel leans back like he wants to disappear.
When I reach him, I lean in close. My lips brush his ear.
"Nobody fucks with me," I whisper.
Then I pull back, grab my suitcase, and unlock the door.
Reeves and Greg are standing in the hallway, waiting.
"We good?" Reeves asks.
"Yeah." I don't look back at Daniel. "We're done here."
The guest room is barely bigger than a walk-in closet.
Literally. There's a twin bed shoved against one wall, a wide dresser, and a nightstand that wobbles when I set my phone down, and about two square feet of floor space.
The window overlooks the neighbor's junkyard, complete with dumpsters and a chain-link fence.
The house is super cute, yellow, dollhouse-like and decorated very nicely, but the neighbor's place is an eye-sore. It's such a shame.
I've stayed here before, quite a few times—Reeve's ex-wife being my bestie and all.
It's actually perfect.
"I know it's not much," Kendra says from the doorway. She's holding folded towels, her blonde hair twisted into a messy bun. "But it's yours for as long as you need."
"It's great. Really." I mean it.
She sets the towels on the bed, sits beside them. "I've been there, you know. Bad breakup. Nowhere to go. Felt like my whole life imploded."
"Yeah?"
"Dated this guy for three years. Thought we'd get married. Turned out he was sleeping with my cousin." She laughs, but it's hollow. "Found them in our bed. On my birthday."
"Jesus."
"Right? So I get it. The shock. The embarrassment. Wondering how you missed all the red flags." She touches my arm. "But you got out. That's what matters."
I swallow hard. "Thanks."
When she leaves, I unpack slowly. Hang my jackets in the tiny closet. Stack my jeans on the bottom shelf. Everything I own fits in three suitcases and two garbage bags. Pathetic.
My phone buzzes. Jenna.
Jenna: Reeves told me. You okay?
Liza: Yeah. Staying with him for a bit.
Jenna: Good. That asshole Daniel deserves worse than what he got.
Liza: You got Liam this weekend?
Jenna: Yep. He's excited.
That kid. My heart squeezes.
Liza: Tell him I miss him.
Jenna: He misses you too, Liza. Bye, love.
Liza: Bye. <3
I toss the phone aside and flop onto the bed. The ceiling has a water stain shaped like Australia.
I think about Jenna living here. Sleeping in the master bedroom down the hall. Making breakfast in that sunny kitchen. Building a life with Reeves before it all fell apart.
Now she's in Portland with Caine. Pregnant. Starting over.
And I'm here. In her old house. Starting over, too.
My chest tightens.
Julian.
I wonder if he's thinking about me. If that kiss haunts him the way it haunts me.
Is he sitting at a piano right now, those long fingers moving across the keys, thinking about me between songs?
Is that kiss outside Alicia's place replaying in his mind the way it won't stop replaying in mine.
I wonder if he touches his lips sometimes and remembers.
If it's driving him as crazy as it's driving me.
I close my eyes, but all I see is his face in the darkness outside Alicia's apartment. The way he looked at me right before our lips met.
I squeeze my eyelids shut, trying to block it all out, but it's impossible. Julian's face materializes behind my closed lids—those deep, soulful eyes fixed on mine in the shadowy darkness outside his sister’s house.
I can see every detail with crystalline clarity: the way the dim light caught the angles of his face, the intensity in his gaze as he leaned closer, the slight parting of his lips just before they touched mine.
That moment suspended in time, hanging there between us like a held breath, right before everything shifted and our mouths finally met.
Fuck, it was so hot.
My phone buzzes again, but I don't check it.