Chapter 47
FORTY-SEVEN
HARLEY
We’re sitting on opposite chairs with the coffee table between us, and while I hate the distance it creates, I know it’s something she probably needs.
She takes a deep breath, her fingers clasped tightly together on her lap.
“Growing up in my house wasn’t exactly… it wasn’t fun.
My father would… well, he would hit me or push me around if I didn’t do what he said.
” She pauses, her gaze focused on her hands as though she can’t even look at me, and I have to swallow down the rage that hits me.
How could anyone do that to her? How could her own father do that to her?
“I could get into it completely, but that would take days. I’m only telling you this so you understand the full picture. Anyway, let’s fast forward to when we met on the pier…”
Savannah tells me about that day from her point of view, about how she didn’t want anything to do with me because it would get her in trouble, and that’s why she tried to keep a distance between us—to keep us both safe—and I start to see things differently.
I saw it as a chase, not knowing the consequences while for her, it was survival.
“I’m sorry if I made things harder for you,” I rasp, my voice thick with regret, but she shakes her head.
“It’s not your fault, Harley. None of this is your fault.”
“And it’s not yours either.”
That makes her pause, and I can see the hesitation written all over her face, clear as day. Has she really been blaming herself this entire time, when it was her father behind the entire thing?
My anger for that bastard of a man grows, but I try not to let it show because while I need to hear it, I think she also needs to tell me it and finally get it off her chest. She’s told Logan and Lana all of this already, but they’re just bystanders watching this happen. Her and I are the ones who lived it.
“After that day, I went home and told him I had bumped into you, knowing it’d no doubt get back to him anyway since he always seemed to find out everything.
If I’m being honest, he didn’t react the way I thought he would, and it became clear why when he made me dress up and took me to your house for the party. ”
I think over that night with a fresh perspective, remembering the way she stuck to her father like glue. I thought it was because she just wanted to keep up appearances, but now I’m realizing she probably didn’t have a choice and that she—
Wait.
“Your father pushed you to dance with me that night,” I state, and she nods. Bile crawls up my throat, and a new idea hits me. If he made her dance with me, then did he…
“Was he always controlling you?” I ask, too afraid to voice my real question.
Was it always one-sided?
Savannah shakes her head adamantly, probably knowing where my thoughts are wandering.
“No. When we got home that night, I thought he’d bring it up, but he never did.
I kept waiting, but there was no mention of you or the party whatsoever.
I felt like something was wrong, and then you started texting me.
I tried to keep my responses vague and my messages short, but the longer you messaged me, the more I wanted to talk to you.
I really did try to resist, knowing that it would no doubt end in tears, but I couldn’t help it.
Talking to you made me feel free for the first time in my life, and I…
I just couldn’t not do it. So, I told you to meet me at the pier, and when the time came, I snuck out of the house. ”
My heart breaks for the girl sitting in front of me and the younger version of her who felt trapped, but then her eyes meet mine, and it completely shatters.
The tears in her eyes snap something in me, and I stand, coming around the coffee table and sitting on top of it, directly in front of her.
I want to pull her into my arms, but that might be taking things too far, so I settle for covering her hands with mine and being a silent support.
“I had so much fun with you. You were like a bright light in an otherwise dark existence, and I felt like I could be myself with you, which was why I kept taking the risk. I kept texting you, I kept sneaking out, and I kept having fun. But then, I don’t think I was ever really sneaking out, because he knew what was happening all along. ”
Her eyes pierce mine, and the look of horror and heartbreak in them no doubt reflects my own.
Fuck, how could I have thought she had even a single malicious bone in her body?
She called me a bright light, but she’s like fucking sunshine, everything on earth orbiting around her.
She doesn’t realize just how perfect she is, and sure, she might be a little broken, but the broken parts of her fit perfectly with mine.
She’s so brave and so goddamn strong for not breaking completely these last few years, and it makes me hate myself even more for even attempting to put her through hell.
“What happened next?” I ask, knowing I’m going to hate whatever comes out of her mouth, but needing to hear it all the same.
I need to know what happened next and what put us on the road for the next four years, because the sooner I know the details, the sooner I can figure out a way to get her father out of her life for good, so she can really be free.