Page 135 of Unexpected Heroine

Closing my eyes, I fill my lungs and force the emotion deep into my gut, where it’ll rot like a rancid corpse.

Unsure where to go from here, I simply stroke her hair and wait for her to speak. If she can’t continue, so be it. If she needs time, I’ll give it to her. It’s all at her pace.

Unlike those monsters, I won’t force her to do a fucking thing.

Eventually, her tears dry, and she pulls back to hold my gaze. “He didn’t,” she clears her throat, “He didn’t want to be first with all the girls. Only me.”

Bypassing my ears, her words slam straight into my soul, knocking the wind out of me.

The truth doesn’t always set you free.

It hunts you in the night, stalking you like prey. Once it finally catches you, it never lets you escape its clutches.

All week long, I’ve hid from this realization. Ignored it. Batted it away. Denied it because I knew—I fucking knew—it would kill me.

But the truth caught up to me.

It always does.

Lettie’s abduction wasn’t a random act. She wasn’t in the wrong place at the wrong fucking time.

She was targeted. For a reason.

Because of me.

A sense of déjà vu floods me, drowning me without a drop of water.

This isn’t the first time someone or something I’ve loved suffered due to my existence in their life.

My dog.

My mother.

And now my Lettie.

“Because of me.” My tone is layered with razors, maliciously slicing their way out of my throat. “They took you. Because. Of me.”

Every line on her precious face turns downward, her features sagging under the weight of immeasurable sadness. The heartbreak woven into her sobs smothers me, and I snap my mouth shut before I say anything else.

However, the words I hold back sail through my mind without interference.

They beat you because of me.

Burned you.

Whipped you.

They . . . violated you because of me.

Bile rises from my gut as those words—and the meaning behind them—reverberate inside my skull.

My vision hazes in and out.

A dull blade stabs its way into my chest, then simultaneously slices me up and down, butchering me from my skull to my toes.

At least I was able to bite my tongue. She doesn’t need to hear those words. She fucking lived it already.

Because of me.

---