Chapter Twenty-Nine
I squeeze the squishy ball in my hand, unable to tune out the person speaking. Her voice claws its way inside my brain and plants vivid reminders of what happened to me front and center.
This girl was taken advantage of by her stepfather over and over again.
The way her voice cracks as she spills her deepest, darkest secrets springs tears in my eyes.
I’m forced to think about the terror I felt when those people took me and my family.
The despair I felt as we were dragged deeper and farther into the wilderness with them.
And each night when Jace would take and take and take.
I wanted to die.
There were times I wished for my heart to stop beating right there and then so I didn’t have to feel his violation inside of me.
Not just my body. He was inside my head and poisoning my soul.
And two of my older siblings, who were stronger and smarter than me, were also captives to those monsters.
If they couldn’t escape, who was I to think I could?
But then I heard it one night.
Ripping fabric. Heavy, furious breathing of a man turned beast. Gurgling as Jace choked on his own blood.
Rowdy came for me that night. He saved me from the demon consuming me and carried me off into the night.
I wasn’t just broken, though. Jace left a piece of himself inside me and it took root.
A baby. Innocent and pure. Despite having his DNA, it was still mine.
I wanted to birth something good from something awful.
That was crudely stolen from me too.
The blood and traumatizing pain of the miscarriage was even worse than the rape for me. I didn’t even have a prize for dealing with the torture I endured. It was all for nothing.
And now I’m in this therapy circle with other people with similar life problems, and it’s too much. I don’t want to be here. I want to go home, crawl into Rowdy’s safe, protective arms, and forget about that awful time in my life.
What’s the point in rehashing something so painful?
Isn’t it better to shove it deep down and try to forget it ever happened?
Someone pushes a tissue into my hand. I grab onto it and dab at my eyes. Maybe I can just leave. If I text Rowdy, he’ll pick me up in a heartbeat. Knowing him, he’s waiting in the parking lot anyway.
“Destiny?” the therapist says gently. “Would you like to speak next?”
I shake my head in vehemence and rise quickly to my feet. “I’m good, thanks.”
They call out to me, but I’m already whipping my cane from side to side as I make a beeline for where I know the door is. Once in the hallway, I start in the direction for the front doors of the building. I need out of here. I need air, distance, and my brother.
Before I make it to the lobby of the building, I sense another person’s presence. Then I’m met with a familiar floral scent.
“Hi, Destiny,” Gwen says in greeting. “I was hoping I would catch you. Have a minute to tell me about your week so far?”
The last thing I want to do is sit with her right now, but I find myself nodding anyway.
I could use a cup of her delicious coffee.
Plus, I need to text Rowdy first. She has me follow her to her office, and before I enter, I excuse myself to make a text.
Once she’s in her office with the door closed, I tell my phone to text Rowdy.
Me: I’m done for the day. Come get me? I’m hungry for burgers and strawberry shakes again. Plus, we can get some more sour gummy worms while out. Text me when you’re here and I’ll come out.
His response is immediate and I have my phone read it in its digitized voice.
Rowdy: was running an errand will head that way see you in fifteen or twenty minutes okay love you bye
I smile at his text. My phone always reads his texts as one long sentence and sometimes the words are wrong. Each one, though, warms my heart. Feeling better than I did a few minutes ago, I let myself into Gwen’s office and inhale the coffee aroma.
“Have a seat,” she says. “I’ll put your mug in front of you after you sit.”
Since I’ve been coming here pretty much every day, I easily find the sofa and sit down. Seconds later, I hear the thunk of the mug on the tabletop. As promised, it’s exactly where she said it would be.
I sip on my coffee and wonder if Weston told her about our difficult conversation. Once she has her coffee ready, she sits across from me, the chair squeaking beneath her.
“Group talk hard today?” she asks in a tender voice. “I know it’s not over yet and you were roaming the halls. Your eyes are red too. I’m guessing it was upsetting. Want to talk about it?”
Grimacing, I shake my head. “Things happened to me a while back ago. The girl talking stirred up those things. I hate thinking about them, much less talking about them. I needed a break from it.”
“I understand. It happens to everyone their first time. Hearing everyone else’s trauma is heavy. Not all of it is related to their disability. I’m assuming yours has nothing to do with yours either.”
“Nope. Just your regular, run-of-the-mill kidnapping and rape.”
To her credit, she doesn’t suck in a sharp breath or indicate my words have shaken her in any way. It makes me feel like a brat for trying to rattle her with the essence of my trauma.
“I hope the person who did that to you is suffering consequences.”
“They paid their price,” I say, nodding. “I don’t have to worry about them anymore.”
“Sounds like prison is a good place for them.”
I don’t correct her and tell her my brother murdered my abuser.
“It’ll be better next Friday,” she assures me, a smile in her words. “I promise.”
And here I’m considering skipping Fridays altogether.
“So, I heard about you and Weston.”
I tense at her statement. “Yeah. I feel awful.”
“He really likes you.” She pauses and then sighs. “Do you think it’s possibly a stress response after having discovered that murder victim? You two really hit it off. Seems a little abrupt to break it off with him.”
“Are you wanting to know as a therapist or Weston’s mom?” I ask sharply.
I’m most certainly being a bitch and I feel bad about it. I can’t help it, though. I’m feeling anxious after the group therapy session and Gwen is pushing uncomfortable buttons.
“I’m asking as your friend,” she says and then sips her coffee.
“I’m Team Destiny. Your happiness and well-being are my number one priority.
” She chuckles softly. “Not just you, but this whole clinic. Helping vision-impaired and blind young people is my calling. I’ve given my entire life to it. I’m guilty of caring way too much.”
I relax and nod. “I know. Sorry. I’m just off today.”
“So? How are you doing since that day? It must’ve been horrible to come across a dead body. Then for them to interrogate the two of you after, it must have been awful.”
“I was afraid,” I admit and then smile. “But Rowdy came for me. He always comes for me when I need him most.”
“Sounds like a good big brother.” She says it politely, but there’s a slight edge to her voice she can’t mask.
“The best. Like you, he’s Team Destiny and does whatever he can to make me happy.”
“You have quite the support system. That’s wonderful.”
“Staying with Uncle Atticus and Aunt Eve has been good for me. Coming to this clinic, too. I’m feeling more capable and stronger than I ever have.”
She sets her mug down again. “That’s wonderful news. I’m so happy for you.”
“I even went to my first party. Ran into Claudia there.”
Gwen laughs. “She’s a hoot. I love that girl.”
“She’s boy crazy. Just saying.”
“Trust me, I know. She’s told me no less than fifteen times that she’d like to hook up with my son.”
I snort out a laugh, but then grow serious. “How is Weston anyway? I feel really bad.”
“He’s hurt, but it’s probably for the best. College starts back up next week. Long-distance relationships don’t often work out well, especially for being so new.”
“I wanted to stay being friends with him,” I admit, voice trembling, “but he said he didn’t want to be.”
“Weston is a hothead sometimes. Give him some time. I’m sure the two of you can eventually become friends.”
I smile, hoping she’s right.
“There’s actually something else I wanted to chat about,” Gwen says, speaking slow and carefully. “And I don’t want to offend you in any way.”
All the hairs on my arms stand on end. If someone has to preface their words with “I don’t want to offend you,” then there’s a massive chance it’s offensive.
“What?”
She shifts in her seat and lets out a resigned sigh.
“You know how I feel about your brother and his ‘protectiveness.’” I know she wanted to say possessiveness but corrected herself at the last minute so as not to anger me.
“And there have been rumors I’ve heard whispered here and there about the two of you. ”
Rumors?
There’s no way anyone could know I’ve been having sex with him. My face burns fiery hot and I hate that I’m so obvious with my emotions. Her eyes are working full and well, so I know she sees my reaction.
“People are dumb,” I say, shaking my head. “I’m close with him, is all.”
So close his tongue has been inside me. So close his finger was in my asshole. So close he fucked me multiple times last night, each time filling me with his cum. I’m pretty sure she would die if she knew all that.
“A staff member saw him walking you to the building this morning,” she says flatly. “And then he kissed you.”
I freeze at her words, my tongue thickening in my mouth. Swallowing down the fear of being caught, I attempt to deny her words. “That’s silly.”
“Is it?”
The air is thick with tension. I squirm in my seat. Needing to do something, I chug the coffee in my mug, throat constricting at the cooler temperature of it. I prefer it hot, and it’s cool enough I want to gag.
“Honestly, Gwen,” I say as I find my voice. “These insinuations and accusations are getting pretty old. If I’m happy and I tell you everything is fine, why do you keep pushing?”
Leave me alone. Leave us alone.
“Well, Destiny, let’s circle back to what I told you. I live and breathe for my patients. If I think someone is being abused by their caregiver or family member, it’s my duty—”
“Abused?” My voice is shrill and dripping with disgust. “Those people in that group therapy room are being or have been abused by their own family members. Why aren’t you in there helping them? I’m literally telling you I’m fine and you don’t believe me.”
“Destiny, calm down, hon.”
I rise to my feet, shaking my head. “I didn’t kiss him. He’s not inappropriate with me. No one is hurting me at home. Please stop asking. I like coming to this clinic, but it’s starting to get uncomfortable for me.”
She sighs in frustration. “Please. Let’s talk about this some more.”
My phone jingles with an incoming text from Rowdy. I don’t dare ask my phone to read it to me aloud and prove her case to her.
“My ride is here,” I say as I head for the door. “See you next week. I hope this will all be behind us by then.”
It takes everything in me not to slam the door behind me.