15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Lacey

I've really done it now.

Wringing my hands, I do everything I can not to look in Skylar's direction. I should have known someone would stumble across the scenes I blacked out during my darker moments.

A hopeful part of me thought no one would ever look through my books, so it wasn't something I had to worry about. The other, more rational side assumed that if someone did find the marks, they wouldn't bother to look past the annotated surface.

"Flower?"

He's waiting for an answer, but I don't know if I can give him one. I've never told anyone the details of what happened that night, partly out of shame but mostly out of embarrassment .

"I, uh…" Heat creeps up my neck as I glance at him, "Sometimes it hurts reading things that aren't true. So, when the pain gets too much I just cross it out."

There's a sliver of hope that Skylar hasn't clued in to what parts of the book I try to erase, but that futile dream quickly gets blown away.

"You cross out the sex scenes."

I flinch like he ripped a splinter straight from my skin.

"Look, it's no big deal. I just had a bad experience and it makes me angry when authors create fictional worlds where sex is enjoyed by both parties."

Skylar's eyes widen and I hurry to fix the slip-up, "I mean, I know sex can be enjoyable for both parties. I hear my roommate have a fantastic time every weekend, so I know it's true."

The joke falls flat and silence fills the room. I shuffle over to the narrow edge of my bed and sit down, nervously picking at the polish on my fingernails.

After a beat, Skylar walks over and sits down next to me. Our shoulders aren't touching, but the distance does nothing to ease the tension from the room.

"Can you tell me a secret?" His voice is rough, like each word is causing him physical pain. I close my eyes, knowing exactly what he's asking for.

"It's not pretty, Skylar."

"That's okay."

When I open my eyes, he's looking at me, the broken pieces of his soul reflecting my own. I should have known Skylar would see through my weak efforts of normality. He always sees me, even when I don't want to be seen.

I turn away, feeling my bottom lip start to tremble.

"I started seeing this guy just before I turned sixteen. His name was Jerrell Thompson. He was new to town and came from a wealthy family."

Skylar stays silent but I can feel the weight of his stare on the side of my face.

"He took me on these extravagant dates, just like what you see in the movies. He liked to buy me things, liked taking me to fancy restaurants. I got caught up in the romance, I guess."

A bitter laugh leaks out, "Jerrell was the most charismatic guy I had ever met, he could turn on the charm at any time and win anyone over. But he could also turn the charm off."

Pulling my knees up to my chest, I hug them close, "He could be so cruel. He would say these things, simple things that would cut straight through me."

"What did he say?"

"The usual stuff. Questioning why I didn't feel the need to dress up or put on makeup. Why I would rather stay home and hangout then go out with his friends. Why I always made him feel unwanted."

Skylar hisses out a breath and the sound puts an ache in my chest.

"He had this idea that we weren't a real couple if we didn't have sex. We'd done some other stuff, but every time he pushed for more, I would say no. "

I bite my lip, staring at my fingernails as the humiliating truth presses against my chest.

"After a few months, he gave me an ultimatum. Have sex or the relationship was over."

"Did you want to have sex with him?"

I shake my head, letting the pathetic truth slip past my lips, "No. I just didn't want to lose him."

Silence falls between us until Skylar reaches over and takes my hand.

"What happened next?"

I swallow, wishing my story had a different ending.

"We were in the backseat of his car, so there wasn't a lot of room. He started kissing me and taking off my clothes. I got scared and asked him to slow down."

I squeeze my legs together as the memory resurfaces.

"He kept telling me it was going to be okay. That I just had to make it through the first part and it would get better. But he didn't get me ready, so when he pushed himself inside me, it hurt. It hurt so bad."

My voice breaks on a sob, "I kept asking him to stop but he kept going. The pain got so bad that I started to cry. I didn't understand why he kept hurting me. Why he was enjoying hurting me."

Skylar's fingers clench around mine but I keep going. I know that if I stop now, I won't be able to start again.

"I wanted to die. Just to make the pain go away. Then it finally ended and the pain got so much worse. He pulled up his pants and told me it hadn't been worth the wait. That I hadn't been worth the wait."

I hunch over, sobs wrecking through my body. Skylar pulls me back on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around me as I cry out the rest of my love story.

"The next day, he told everyone at school I was a bad lay. I was so embarrassed. The rumours going around made it so my friends didn't want to hang out with me anymore. My heart was in pieces and I felt so alone. I didn't see a way out."

"I found my mom's prescription pills five days later. My brother found me unconscious in the bathroom and rushed me to the hospital. When I woke up, I was so disappointed. I didn't want to be in this life anymore. But then I saw Wesley's face, I saw the devastation in his eyes, and the disappointment turned into guilt."

A strangled laugh escapes me, "Turns out, the only thing worse than having your innocence stolen is waking up to see your brother's face after you try to commit suicide."

Skylar doesn't say anything as I break down and cry, my body curled up against his. My fists dig into his shirt, clenching the soft material like it's my lifeline. Skylar presses his lips against my neck, softly stroking my hair as he waits for my tears to run out.

My hiccups break the silence of the room, echoing off the walls of my dorm. It takes a while for my ragged breathing to calm down, but once it does, Skylar shifts back to look at me.

"You have really soft hair. Do you use conditioner too? "

I choke out a laugh, remembering the last time I used that line. Our roles were reversed, but just like before, it helps to diffuse the thick waves of grief clouding the room.

"Maybe."

Skylar stares at me, seeing every uncovered shard I have to offer. I'm fully dressed and yet I feel completely naked, stripped down to the raw edges of my being.

"What did you mean when you said he didn't get you ready?"

I blink, surprised by his question.

"Uh, well, he didn't touch me."

Skylar's brows furrow and I start to blush, "Like foreplay. It doesn't take much to turn me on but he just went straight to sex. So, I wasn't… wet."

I grimace at the crude word, dropping my gaze to Skylar's chest. I watch his breathing grow still as tension bleeds through his body.

"He fucked you dry?"

Glancing at his face, the breath gets knocked from my lungs. A fire lights up his mismatched eyes, the blue one glinting dangerously while the brown one darkens into a bottomless pit. I can see the fury coming to life inside him, the rage he tries so hard to hide fighting to break through the surface.

"Yeah, but it was my first time. I'm sure he thought the blood would help-

"Don't make excuses for him." Skylar snaps his teeth together, "There are plenty of other options to make the experience more enjoyable for women. "

His body trembles against me, his fingers twitching restlessly against the duvet. I stare at him with wide eyes, trying to think of a way to relieve the tension.

"It's okay, Skylar. I'm okay now."

"No." His head jerks to the side, "It's not okay. Nothing about that situation was okay. He raped you."

I press a hand against his chest, "No, he didn't. I gave my consent when I agreed in the first place."

He lurches away from me, "Consent can be taken away at any time, Flower. It's not a one and done deal."

Skylar scrambles off the bed, his eyes feral as they sweep around my room. It takes me a moment to realize what he's looking for.

"Pens are in the top drawer."

Propping myself up on the bed, I watch as he rips the drawer open and grabs the first pen he can find. The tendons in his forearm bulge from the pressure he's using to hold it.

"My notepads are next to my bookshelf."

Skylar grabs one from the pile, his eyes dancing over the crossed out sex scenes lying open on my desk. He closes his eyes, his breathing heavy and uneven as he clutches the pen and paper in his hands.

I slowly climb to my feet, eliminating the distance between us.

"Start to draw, Skylar. It's going to be okay."

His eyes flick open, meeting mine in a storm of rage.

"I'm sorry, Flower. I have to go. "

I take a step forward, "You can draw here. I don't mind."

"No." Skylar stumbles back, trying to increase the space between us, "You aren't going to want to see this one."

I bite my lip, wishing he felt comfortable enough to stay. I want to apologize for getting him in this state, but I know that will only make it worse.

"Okay." Stepping to the side, I open my bedroom door. Skylar brushes past me but pauses before he makes it out the door.

"Thank you for telling me. I'll call you tomorrow?"

I give him a small smile, "Call me tonight after you've calmed down. Thanks for supporting the rival today, Skylar."

He stares at me, the ferocious gleam in his eyes dimming the slightest bit.

"You've never been my rival, Flower. I'll talk to you soon."

Skylar

Four boxes of crayons later and I feel just as angry as I did two hours ago.

The broken pieces stare back at me, the sheets of paper thrown around my bedroom floor like a science experiment gone wrong. My body feels like a ticking bomb, the itch in my skin counting down the minutes until I explode.

I can't see anything except the pain I want to inflict on Jerrell fucking Thompson.

My hands shake as I reach for another piece of paper.

I have to fight it. I have to fight-

"Who got your panties in a twist? "

Vector peeks his head through my doorway, and it takes all my self-control not to hurl the closest crayon at his head.

I want to smash in someone's skull and I don't care whose it is.

"Get out."

"In a mood today, are we?" Vector pushes his way inside and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to remember the tricks my therapist taught me.

Find a focus point and use it as an anchor. Deep inhale and exhale. Do it again.

"Oh, shit. Are these intestines?"

My eyes flick open to see Vector studying one of the many drawings I spent the last two hours creating. The level of detail on each one is gruesome to an extreme degree and it makes me hate myself that much more.

"I told you to leave." I snarl at him, torn between ripping up the murderous drawings and stabbing out his eyes. I would use my sharpened pencil to pluck out each one before shoving them down his throat.

The anger isn't what controls you, Skylar. It's the fear of the anger. Find something that helps ease the pressure and hold on to it.

My brother laughs, oblivious to the horrifying picture I just painted in my mind, "Clearly this isn't working. Put your weapon down and let's go burn off some steam."

I clench the pencil tighter, "I don't want to go anywhere with you."

"Too bad. Mom wants us to spend more quality time together, so I'm paying my dues. Throw on your running shoes and meet me outside in five."

"No."

"You have five minutes to get outside or I will carry your ass out of this house." Vector tilts his head, a smirk staining his features, "Tick tock, Sky."

He turns and leaves before I can say anything else. Picking up the closest drawing, I tear it to shreds before stomping over and grabbing my running shoes.

I fucking hate him.

I fucking despise him.

The thought fuels my rage right up until I see Vector stretching by the tree in our front yard. His hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, the shoulder-length strands just as long as they were back in middle school. We used to meet out here every morning to train for our cross-country meets, and I didn't think I would ever call anyone else my best friend.

My eyes drop to the leg muscles bulging from his gym shorts, the same muscles that fuelled the ego and the violence that led to our distancing.

"Twenty seconds to spare. I'm almost disappointed." He flashes me a grin, "Let's see if you can still run the loop in under an hour."

I don't say anything as I turn and start to run, the punishing pound of the pavement echoing in time with my heartbeat. Vector falls in step beside me, his giant frame showing no signs of lag as he keeps up with me.

With every block we pass, I push the pace faster, trying to outrun the monster snarling inside. My lungs feel like they've been doused with gasoline and set on fire, but I don't slow down. Every step, every ragged breath feels like a punishment and I gladly take each one.

Vector stays by my side the entire time, refusing to let me get one step ahead. I used to get annoyed he was always trying to prove who was stronger, but now I'm grateful for it. His presence helps drive me faster, pushing my pathetic athletic abilities over the edge of comfort.

Sweat stings my eyes as we round the last corner, the shakiness in my limbs making me think they might give out at any second. The tree in our front yard marks the end of our loop, and the moment I see it, I break into a sprint.

Every morning, Vector would win the unofficial race and there's no doubt in my mind that today will be the same.

He's always been the faster one. The stronger one.

Despite the inevitable outcome, I pump my arms and drive my legs as hard as possible. The tree flies by my line of sight as I hit the finish line, and I wait for Vector's celebratory shout to hit me.

The heavy fall of footsteps echo behind me and I whip my head around. Vector slows to a jog, offering a modest shrug when he catches me staring.

"You looked like you needed the win today. "

My face crumples at the same time my body does and I collapse to the ground. Lungs seizing with the need for air, I gasp and choke as my muscles scold me for the extreme exertion.

"If you hit the gym on a regular basis, this wouldn't be so embarrassing."

Vector steps into my line of sight and I can't even lift my hand to flip him off.

"Fuck…you." I wheeze out the words, refusing to acknowledge the truth in his words. He barks out a laugh before offering me his hand.

"You better get up before the neighbours start talking about your lack of stamina."

"Just go. I'm going to be here a while."

Vector heaves a sigh before plopping down beside me. Stretching out a long leg, he starts doing cool down stretches while I struggle to remember how to breathe.

"You didn't have to do that." I gasp, feeling the lactic acid set in, "We both know you would have won. You've always been faster."

"True." Vector shifts, switching which leg is extended, "But that wouldn't have made you feel any better."

Swallowing the bile rising in my throat, I rest my head against the grass and stare at the sky. It's turning pink with the afterglow of the sunset and the bright colours make me think of Lacey.

I shouldn't have run out on her today. It was cowardly and selfish, especially after she opened up to me about her past. Hearing what her ex-boyfriend did to her though… I couldn't help it. The anger detonated inside of me, and like always, I panicked.

But the anger isn't here anymore.

Shock washes over me when I register the rage controlling every thought is gone. My control is safely locked in place, and even though it hurts to breathe, I feel like myself again.

I look over and find Vector watching me with a satisfied smile.

"How did you know that would work?"

He shrugs, "Because I'm brilliant."

"You're a lot of things, Vec, but brilliant isn't one of them."

Vector bursts out laughing and the crack in my chest splinters.

Before I met Lacey, my brother was one of the few people who understood my sense of humour. He was one of the few people who could see past the boy who didn't use his face to smile.

He wipes the sweat off his brow and flicks it at me.

"You're such a little asshole, Sky."

"I know."

I stare at him, seeing the piece of my heart that has been missing for too long.

"Do I need to buy bleach and a body bag?" He raises a brow, "Those were some fucked up drawings even for you."

Shame heats my cheeks and I quickly look away.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Good. I didn't want to hear about it. "

Rolling my eyes, I glance over and see Vector studying me carefully.

"Just let me know if you need to hide a body. I've got a few places in mind."

"I'm sure you do."

He stares at me for another beat before climbing to his feet and heading inside. I don't say anything when he goes, my silence as familiar as the disappointment filling my chest.

My brother may have been the one who made the decision that changed everything, but I was the one who enabled it.

And now I don't know where that leaves us.