10. Tyson
TEN
TYSON
Usually I can keep calm, allowing Massi to be the half of us that snaps at the drop of a hat, but listening to Carter, and seeing her scars, is turning my vision redder than the devil’s ass.
Admittedly, I would love nothing more than to wrap my hands around her pathetic father’s throat, snuffing the life from him way faster than he deserves.
Instead, I stuff down the violent fantasies, choosing to be present while Carter dictates what to share, and staying neutral in order to comfort her when she needs.
That fighting spirit is still there, lying dormant beneath all the trauma she’s endured, but she’s not convinced that there’s anything resembling strength left in her body, only proving how bad she had it while we were apart.
It takes a lot to brainwash a person, to change the way they think – especially about themselves – but Carter’s been through the most brutal form of torture, by someone she thought would never hurt her.
As much as I don’t want to know, for my own sanity, I have to ask about the groom-to-be.
In order to understand every single thing she’s had to deal with in our absence, I have to listen while she highlights the horrors, something I never thought I’d be strong enough to withstand, but for Carter, I’d endure any storm just to find her beneath the rainbow.
“What about the man you’re supposed to marry?” I change the subject, covering her scars and pulling her into my chest, letting my arms act as defense against what she’s afraid to say aloud.
As soon as the words leave my lips I feel her deflate, the deep sigh leaving her chest a clear sign that this is another heavy topic, and I’m desperately waiting for the moments we can share that are light-hearted, like we used to.
“Vincent. He’s not as bad as someone else would be,” she says, recoiling at the sound of his name, but attempting to play it off like no big deal.
“Did he …” I start but she cuts me off, shaking her head and turning up to look in my eyes, a desperate plea behind her baby blues to let this go, but I won’t.
Anyone who hurt her, or made her feel like death was the better option, will feel my wrath, something I rarely ever let loose, but will be happy to do in order to get retribution against any person who brought my girl to the lowest point of her life.
“Don’t, Tyson. Don’t ask me that,” she whispers, but I take her chin between my fingers, staring down at her until she realizes that I will not let her live alone with this for another second.
“Carter,” I warn, but the second her name leaves my lips, tears slip down her cheeks, furthering the devastation I feel in my bones as she details more of what happened to her.
Sitting here, listening while she speaks, or shows off her scars, has taken every bit of grace I possess not to lash out, something she’s truly never seen from me since I tend to leave the irrational behavior up to Massi.
Surprisingly, he’s been stiff as a board, completely silent through this conversation, only consoling Carter with slight touches and reminders of her strength.
It’s as if we’ve switched positions or swapped bodies, our reactions to this groundbreaking information in complete contrast of how we’d normally react.
“My father made it clear that he wasn’t allowed to sleep with me until after the wedding, but he walked in on me changing during those first few days of our newfound predicament and found a bargaining chip,” she recalls, her eyes fluttering shut as she searches deep within herself to reveal the darkest truths to us.
“What did he see?” I reply instantly, keeping this line of communication open, hoping that she doesn’t find a reason to shut down, or worse, shut us out.
“Your names on my skin,” she mutters, like that moment we shared is something to be ashamed of, but I keep my rage in check, waiting until she finds the courage to finish.
“So, he said if I gave him blowjobs whenever he wanted, he’d keep my secret, and go easy on me during our wedding night.
He wasn’t too bad, like I said, he could’ve been worse, and he genuinely felt bad that my heart wasn’t in the marriage.
” She fidgets with her wrists again, trailing her fingers along the scars, like it’s become some kind of coping mechanism when things get a little tough.
“Not enough to back out,” Massi snarks, his hands balling into fists, but she cuts him off, some things never changing, even when everything else has.
“We all have people we answer to in this life, Jasper, you know that all too well,” she says dryly, projecting her own frustrations about being forced into the marriage onto his lack of sympathy.
Rather than allow them to jump into a round of bickering, I redirect her focus, hating that I’m drawing this painful information out of her, but needing everything out in the open so we know how to move forward.
“You’re telling me he raped you, baby girl?” I ask, holding my breath, the weight of the world falling onto my shoulders as I wait for her answer.
“No, he didn’t. It was an agreement,” she defends, and I feel the rage coursing through my veins again, hating that she’s been damaged so badly, but can’t even accurately find the words to describe it.
Looking down at her in my arms, my heart squeezes in my chest, the defeat radiating off her petite body, like she’s incapable of accepting that we saved her.
It’s almost as if she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, for someone to snatch her away again, and all her hope for a new start will be stolen.
I’d rather die than let that happen, but believing in words isn’t easy for someone like her, especially after all she’s been through.
“He was blackmailing you, right? That means you can not consent. Plain and simply, it was rape, and he took advantage of the fact that he held something over your head.” It sounds harsh, but in order to get through to her, I may have to use different methods than she expects, considering my tender side isn’t breaching through her stubborn exterior.
“He saw my scars, and we had a deal. If he’d told my father, he would’ve killed me,” she cries, the tears slipping down her cheeks once again, and I swipe my fingers under her eyes, erasing the sadness from her face.
“I’m sorry, baby girl. Nobody wants to believe that something so sinister can happen to them, but in order to work through it, you have to first identify it.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Tyson! We can just add it to the laundry list of shit I went through,” she chokes out, her voice breaking as she speaks, but I can’t let this go, not yet.
“You don’t have to say anything, Principessina. That’s enough, Tyson, leave her alone,” Massi interrupts, pulling her from my arms and placing gentle kisses on her cheeks.
Him swooping in and behaving like her white knight has me ready to boil over, to fly off the handles, lashing out at the one person who’s never left my side.
“Why aren’t you more pissed off about this than I am? Normally you’d have punched more holes in these walls than we could count!” I yell, my temper taking control as my words ricochet off the walls.
He doesn’t blink, staying put beside Carter while she holds onto him for dear life, and for the first time, I think I took it too far. She looks like she’s on the verge of falling apart, a certain brand of terror radiating from her bones, all because of me.
“It already happened. Besides, you claim you can read Carter’s mind and body better than me, but she’s literally shaking and trembling while you’re forcing her to relive these experiences.
You’re no better than them,” he spits, and I drop my head, knowing he’s right, while his words land exactly how he intended.
“Jasper, I’m fine, I promise.” Carter looks up at him, a soft smile creeping across her lips while he presses a gentle kiss to her nose.
“I know you are, because you’re much stronger than you think.
Remember when you slipped out of my sights at Emory, only to be waiting for me outside the house?
You walked in like you owned the place, not afraid of me in the slightest,” he recounts, a memory they both hold dearly bringing a softer mood over them while they lose themselves in each other.
“That feels like it was a different lifetime,” she whispers, and I sit back, watching their connection slowly come back to life.
“It may have been, but you’re still the same fierce little temptress of death I was entranced by. We just have to bring her back to the surface,” he suggests, but she recoils, falling back into the crook of his neck, hiding her face and inhaling a long breath.
“I don’t think so, Jasper. I don’t have any fight left in me, or reasons to want to stay … alive. I just can’t –”
“You will. You don’t believe us right now, and the fear of going back to your father is consuming you, but I promise, if it’s the last thing I do, I’m bringing that girl home.” He pulls her until they’re nose-to-nose, but he doesn’t falter, only conceding when she offers a slight nod.
Nothing more needs to be said, and rather than bring up anything else that could send her back down a slippery slope, I give them the space needed to continue rebuilding what was destroyed.
After all, I’m not the only man for her, or that knows her, and for the first time, I’ve seen remnants of what we used to have slowly beginning to piece back together.
Even through all our brokenness, the love we carry for each other prevails over all else, and I’m thankful that while we try to navigate this bump in the road, we can still lean on one another.
I may have pushed Carter too far, but Massi was right there, ready to pick up her pieces and glue her back together.
Having her back, but not in the same condition we left her in, is bringing out the worst sides in me, something I’ve tried for most of my adult life to keep in check, but when it comes to the girl I love, nothing is off limits — not anymore.