Chapter 46

Nothing suddenly makes sense. The item in my hand doesn’t make sense. Where did Slater get it? Why is it in his bag? Did he find it somewhere?

My brain refuses to accept the most likely outcome.

I feel sick to my stomach as I realize that my trust has been shattered. How could he do this to me? Didn’t he see how much I was trying to make things right between us?

Anger starts to bubble within me as well. How dare he come back after disappearing for nearly a week and have this in his bag. He had the gall to ask me if I had anything to tell him?

What does he need to tell me?!

With the mask - the fucking masked man’s mask - clutched tightly in my hand, I storm into the bathroom, not caring when the door bangs against the wall behind it. Slater startles and he curses under his breath before looking at me.

“Cora, is that—?” Slater’s eyes widen as he spots the mask in my hands. “Where did you find that?”

I ignore his question, my heart pounding with a mixture of betrayal and anger. I take a step closer to him, thrusting the mask toward his face.

“Don’t you try to deny it, Slater. This was in your bag. How could you keep something like this from me?” My voice quivers with a mix of hurt and rage.

Slater’s eyes dart around the room, avoiding my intense gaze. He clears his throat before finally meeting my eyes. “Cora, I can explain. Just listen…”

“Explain? Explain what, Slater?” I cut him off, my voice rising in frustration. “Explain why you’ve been lying to me this whole time? Or maybe explain how you managed to hide this from me for so long?”

He raises his hands in a placating gesture, but it just pisses me off all the more. “Cora, please, just hear me out. It’s not what you think.”

I scoff, feeling a bitter laugh bubbling up inside me. “Oh, really? Then enlighten me, Slater. Tell me why you have the mask of the masked man that’s been sneaking into my room for months. Explain to me why you, Slater, my boyfriend, doesn’t want to have sex with me but the masked man t-takes w-what h-he w-wants.” I gasp for breath as the realization hits me.

Slater’s jaw tightens, his eyes flickering with a mix of guilt and something else I can’t quite place. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

“He raped me, Slater. You…you used a gun on me. You cut me up with a knife,” I whisper, horror-struck.

Time seems to stand still as Slater’s eyes widen in horror at my accusation. I watch as his mind races, trying to find any way to defend himself, any way to explain the mask’s presence in his bag. His face twists with shock, guilt, and denial.

“No, Cora, I—I would never...” his voice falters, trailing off as he searches for the right words. But there are no words that can erase this nightmare.

A wave of revulsion washes over me, looking at the man I loved and trusted. How could I have been so wrong? How could I have been so stupid?

Slater’s voice shakes as he tries again, “I—I can explain, Cora.”

His words barely register. The trust that we were trying to piece back together between us is shattered, and I can’t see a way of piecing it back together.

Turning away from him, I try to process everything that’s just happened. I’ve accused him of something unthinkable, and now I’m faced with the possibility that I may have misjudged him entirely. But the image of the masked man, the fear in my eyes, and the guilt on Slater’s face remains etched in my memory. We are forever changed. Broken.

Earlier I considered flight or fight or fawn. But there’s another instinct I forgot. Freeze. I’ve been frozen to the spot since I stormed in here to confront Slater, and all he’s said is he can explain. He’s not denying it. He’s not denying he’s the masked man. He…he…

I jerk like a thousand volts of electricity have passed through me when Slater stands and climbs out of the bath. He doesn’t reach for a towel, and my eyes greedily drink in his body, each familiar tattoo churning my stomach as the truth becomes impossible to ignore.

Slater is the masked man.

The man I’ve been pining over.

The man I was half-convinced I was in love with.

The man I love and the man I love to hate are the same guy…and I can’t handle that knowledge.

It takes Slater advancing toward me in the low candlelight to finally snap me out of my stupor.

Fuck freezing. My body chooses flight.

I turn and run, fleeing the apartment like it’s on fire, and I don’t stop until something heavy collides with my temple and like the flick of a switch, I’m out cold.