Chapter 11 #2
She’d burned her clothes in the fireplace when she’d gotten home.
Then washed for hours afterward, until she shivered uncontrollably in the bathtub, unable to rinse away the feel of his hands in her underwear.
Inside her. Years later, a counselor helped her work through some of her intimacy issues, but she’d remained—technically—a virgin for a long time afterward, unable to feel good about her body since her innocence had been lost that night in a terrible way.
A way that made it so difficult to face physical intimacy.
She’d numbed herself to everything and everyone, a coping mechanism that had made it difficult to feel pleasure later.
She’d tried to explain to one of her college boyfriends.
But he’d only remarked that she was lucky she hadn’t been raped, and his dismissal had grated on her endlessly.
She’d been assaulted. Violated. And that was when she realized she needed counseling to heal.
Even now, it took her a moment to realize she was crying silent tears. Sam wiped them away gently with his thumbs.
“What made your attacker leave?” he asked, pressing soft kisses to her eyes.
She’d closed them, forgetting to anchor herself in the world around her as she’d gotten lost in that night. Damn it. She forced them open now, peering into Sam’s gray gaze, which was full of concern.
That connection felt right. Good.
“Maybe the sound of the garage door lifting at Gabby’s house?” She sifted through the ugly memories, searching for concrete details. “He ran toward the car as it backed out and shoved me aside.”
“You didn’t look at him then?”
“At his back? I guess so. He was wearing a dark hoodie and jeans. I couldn’t see much in the woods.
And he stayed out of the beam of the headlights when the car rolled out of the garage.
” By then, she’d been so traumatized she hadn’t been thinking about Gabriella or Sam.
Her thoughts were solely on her body and the way he’d used it.
The way he’d made her feel dirty, and the fact that she hadn’t screamed for help.
Scared silent.
“Did you see or hear him get into a vehicle?”
“No.” After Gabriella had left the house—or at least, she assumed now it had to have been Gabriella—there had been quiet in the woods for long moments until Sam jumped in his car and followed in the same direction.
He kissed her forehead. “Thank you for trusting me with what happened.” He brushed her hair off her face. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that, and I’m even sorrier that you carried the burden alone for so many years.”
“I didn’t have any useful information anyway.
” She wanted to make him understand why she’d maintained her silence.
“If I thought it would have helped you, I would have spoken up sooner. But I never saw his face. I couldn’t identify him—then or now.
I don’t know if I ever met Covington as a teen, and I didn’t put the old pieces together until you told me what happened to Gabby.
” She shrugged, frustrated with her ignorance.
“And, for what it’s worth, I didn’t carry the burden alone. I told my mother after it happened.”
She didn’t count the crappy boyfriend who’d written off her experience with a few careless words.
“Your mother knew this whole time?” His hands fell away from where he’d been smoothing her hair off her cheek. Shock colored his words.
“She may not remember. She was on a lot of medication.” But telling her mother had only made things much, much worse.
“And she never reported it to the police, either?”
His eyes went wide. And it took a lot to surprise a cop.
“She was struggling with bipolar disorder and new medications.” She sat so close to Sam now, his big body curving protectively around hers.
She could so easily tip her head to the side and be cradled against his shoulder.
The temptation to do just that was strong, but she forced herself to get through the story.
“She screamed at me that I was a slut, that I’d led you on and to get the hell out of her house. ”
“You’d led me on?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Mom was convinced that it was you who molested me in the woods because I’d encouraged you after the skinny-dipping incident.
Remember I mentioned how upset she was about that?
” Her stomach knotted. She had loved her mother.
Needed her desperately. But when it counted most, her mom had blasted her morals and told Amy she needed to move out by nightfall.
“Holy shit.” Beyond that, he was speechless.
And who could blame him?
“She had a nervous breakdown later that summer.” Amy hadn’t heard about it at the time, but apparently her mom had fought with Mack’s then girlfriend, Nina, too. Nina had moved away for almost as many years as Amy had.
Thank goodness Nina had returned to Heartache, or Mack might never have reunited with her.
“I didn’t know the disorder could make someone so...” He grappled for words.
“My father was giving her experimental medication, too.” That was another piece of the puzzle Amy hadn’t discovered until recently, thanks to Heather’s letters.
“At the time, there weren’t many good options for her on the market, so he imported some drugs that hadn’t been approved by the FDA.
But Mom secretly went off everything for a while, and no one knew how bad things had gotten until that breakdown. ”
Amy still wasn’t sure if she could make peace with her mother.
Would her mom remember the details of that conversation?
How could Amy forgive her for not helping her through that time?
For convincing her that she had somehow deserved the attack?
For kicking her out? It didn’t matter that Diana’s accusations had made zero sense—Sam hadn’t been the one to hurt her.
She’d been vulnerable to her mother’s opinions and each one of them had dug deep, taking root. Amy had run from Heartache, but she hadn’t had much luck outrunning her mother’s damning words.
“Right.” He went to work picking up their dishes, stacking them and setting them aside. The tension in his shoulders was obvious, along with the rigid set to his jaw.
She covered his hand with hers when he reached for the wine bottle. “I’m sorry that she thought the worst of you.”
Sam’s forehead wrinkled in confusion before he shook his head.
“You think I care about that? Hell. Amy, I’m upset because you were molested fifty yards away from me and I never knew about it.
I’m upset I didn’t just tell you I was going to Gabby’s that night to keep an eye on her the way Zach asked me to.
” He set the bottle on the coffee table and then eased to the floor again to sit across from her.
“I’m upset that someone hurt you and I could have stopped it.
I was so invested in watching out for Gabriella, this bastard got to you instead. ”
The anguish in his eyes was obvious. A hurt he didn’t deserve, but one that soothed something raw inside her nevertheless. For years, she’d faced the fact that she’d handled The Incident alone. That even her mother hadn’t cared what had really happened to her.
But Sam cared. He’d always cared. She’d just been so busy worrying that he was having a relationship with Gabby—running off to California without a word to Amy—that she’d never understood it.
“I was hurt. Wounded inside.” She threaded her fingers through his. Kissed the back of his hand. “But I’m not hurt anymore. And as for healing? I’ve come a long way over the years, even more so tonight, thanks to you.”
She gave in to that urge she’d been fighting, the need to tip her head onto one of his broad shoulders and savor his strength and presence. She’d craved it ten years ago and never had the chance to let a loving touch take away the hurts of that night.
Now? They were in a very different place emotionally. But she still craved his touch.
“Amy.” He studied her with that steady gaze of his. Drew a deep breath. “I hate that I wasn’t there for you.”
“You’re here now.” She rubbed her cheek against the cotton of his shirt, absorbing the warmth and feel of him.
His muscles clenched beneath her jaw, his body tensing. From resistance? Or because he was holding himself back from something he wanted, too?
“I wouldn’t want to—” his jaw flexed as he seemed to search for the right words “—take advantage of a vulnerable moment.”
“You wouldn’t be.” She kissed his shoulder before straightening, needing to look him in the eye.
“We could spend tonight putting the past behind us.” She didn’t know where the idea came from.
But her attraction to Sam had been simmering ever since she’d come home.
And tonight, when he’d been so tender with her and so ready to shoulder blame that didn’t belong to him, she wanted to act on that heat. That connection they’d always had.
Something flared in his eyes. A blaze of raw reaction he couldn’t hide.
But he shook his head in that immovable Sam way.
“It’s been a long day. An emotional day.” He swallowed hard but didn’t retreat. “You’ve only just come home. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret something that happened too fast.”
“I’ve had ten years to process what happened to me.
Ten years to understand how much that night robbed from me.
” The more she thought about it, the more right this felt.
“We were on the verge of taking our relationship to the next level before that bastard ruined our chance to see what could have happened between us. Why should we let it keep robbing us now?”
His gray gaze dipped to her mouth. Lingered.
“You’re a tough woman to argue with.” His voice was scratchy.
“So don’t try.” She ventured closer, brushing her lips along that strong jaw of his. “Tuck Aiden in for the night, and then come take away all the old, ugly memories. I want some new ones, and I want them with you.”