Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
When I hear a soft knock on my door, my stomach churns, the food I ate to settle it threatening to come back up again. I take a deep breath and walk over to answer the door.
“Hey,” Lindy says, looking cute as hell in the new coat I bought her.
She reaches forward to hug me and I pull her into my arms, seeking the familiar comfort of her scent, which I think is a coconut shampoo.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Yeah. I mean, pretty much.”
She pulls away and looks at me, her expression worried. “What’s wrong, Victor?”
I lead her into the apartment and close the door behind us. “I just…need to talk to you about something.”
“You’re scaring me,” she says, her brow furrowed. “You’re pale and you look like you’re about to be sick.”
“So much for playing it cool,” I say lightly.
My joke falls flat. I take a reassuring breath.
“Can we sit down and just get this over with?” I ask.
“Of course.” Lindy walks over to the leather sofa, taking her coat off on the way, and sits down, looking at me expectantly. “Listen, if you’ve changed your mind about us--”
Shaking my head, I say, “I haven’t. That’s not it at all.”
Her shoulders slump with relief. “Okay. Then I’ll just be quiet and listen.”
I swallow hard, remembering the night we first met. Her eyes were so bright. I felt the shine of Lindy’s sweetness and affection. She made me feel like the only other person in the world. When I was at my worst, she looked at me like I was at my best.
I still feel that way every time she looks at me. Like I’m enough. No matter where we are or what we’re doing, together, we’re content. I’ve never had that before, and I’m terrified I’m about to lose it.
“This is hard for me,” I start. “As you can see.”
“Do you want to sit down?”
I shake my head, but at least walk over to a tall leather chair by the couch so I’m closer to her, putting my hands on the back of it. I look down at the chair, trying to figure out how to start. But no words will come.
“Victor,” Lindy says softly. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’ll be okay.”
There’s a sick rolling in my gut that just won’t go away. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
“There’s a guy blackmailing me,” I finally manage. “It’s been going on since I signed my first contract.”
Silence falls as Lindy waits for me to say more and I try to come up with a way to do it.
“Okay,” she says after a long half-minute of quiet. “I’m glad you told me.”
The corners of my mouth unconsciously tilt up in a smile. Lindy’s trying so damn hard to support me right now, which is just like her. I’m not making it very easy.
“I’m sorry,” I say, leaning my elbows on the top of the chair back and pressing my fists to my forehead. “I’m trying.”
“It’s okay. Take your time.”
I take a couple more deep breaths, close my eyes and continue.
“I told you about my mom. How I didn’t have the best childhood. But I didn’t go into detail.”
My muscles tense and my heart pounds, my self-preservation instinct telling me to stop. Fucking stop now, before you can’t go back. She’s gonna know forever now. She’s never gonna look at you the same.
I stand up and walk across the room, needing to move. “My mom was a drug addict. It’s not a cheap habit. There were men in and out of our apartment all the time.”
The fire I started in my gas fireplace is burning, and I watch the dance of the orange flames as I speak. Though I’m talking to Lindy, I can’t look at her right now. I just can’t.
“There were men who did things to me,” I say softly, ignoring the gasp behind me. “My mom told me it was okay, and that I was helping her by letting them. I knew it wasn’t right.” My voice catches, and I close my eyes, trying to steady myself. “But I didn’t think I had any choice. I didn’t know…I was just a little kid.”
The shame wraps itself around me hard and fast, like a giant blanket that reaches every part of me. I haven’t spoken these words to anyone. Ever. I told myself that as long as no one knew, the shame was only in my head. If only that were true.
“This one guy, Bryan…my mom was with him for like a year off and on. And he…” I clear my throat, shaking inside and out. “He did the worst stuff of all, and he took photos of me. Horrible…” I can’t hold on anymore. The lump in my throat bursts and tears spill from my eyes.