Page 37 of Silent Desires

“So,” Tucker says, leaning forward from the back seat, “she likely doesn’t know anything about the murders…”

“Which means,” Gideon continues for him. “That either she’s living with the murder, unknowingly, or…”

“Or she’s being stalked by one,” I finish for him before swallowing the lump that’s formed in my throat from fear of what that could mean for her.

That settles it, we definitely aren’t done in Blue River yet.

Chapter twenty-six

Lying on my stomach on my tiny mattress, I try to find a position where the loose spring doesn’t scratch me. The lash mark on my stomach is barely a bother anymore, but the four on my back are still fresh and painful. The mark on my arm, though, is starting to really worry me. I thought it might be starting to heal, but it’s definitely getting worse. The entire area around it is red, swollen and painful to the touch, and the wound itself is still oozing. I thought my mother would have given me something for it by now, but I’m convinced she’s completely forgotten about it.

Pulling my phone out from under my pillow, a smile tugs at my lips. The guys all texted me last night while I was lying here unconscious. I felt bad when I saw all their worried texts this morning, but I made sure to take the time to say good morning to each of them.

Texting is amazing. I can have full conversations with them without ever saying a word. I’ve already learned more about them this morning than I have in the past two weeks. Not only that, but these are the first real conversations I’ve had in over eleven years. Even then, from the age of six to ten, when I did speak, I had no one I could talk to.

Which means it’s been fifteen years since I’ve had a conversation with someone who actuallywantsto talk to me. And before that, I was a smallchild. This feels life-changing for me, I finally have hope of being normal, even though I can’t talk.But can you?A voice in my head asks.

There were a couple of times, years ago, when I was alone and tried to make myself speak, but both times ended with me throwing up. I wouldn’t try again after that. I’ve never been sure if I threw up from panic or if something is physically damaged from the bleach my mother forced down my throat. I used my new friend Google to search what could happen if you drank bleach and realized I came out of that event lucky to be alive.Was she actually trying to kill me?

Shaking my head to rid myself of questions I’ll never know the answer to, I glance at my phone again, grateful that for once, I can be heard without words.

Max has been texting me non-stop since I woke up. I re-read our conversation, and it brings a smile to my face.

Me:Good morning Max, sorry I fell asleep last night before I could respond.

Max:I’m just glad you’re ok. Did you sleep ok?

Me:Yes. You?

Max:Not really, I miss you.

Every time I re-read that, my heart speeds up in my chest.He misses me?Is that something you would say to a friend? It must be. I think I’m just reading too hard into what it could mean, what Iwantit to mean. Regardless, I blush at the thought of my secret desire that he, or any of them, might like me as more than a friend.

Me:You just saw me yesterday…

Max:I don’t care, I want to see you every day. Any chance you can come out to play today?

Me:No sorry, my mother wants me to stay home.

Max:What do I have to do to convince you to let me break you out?

Me:I’m sorry, I can’t. She’s really strict and wouldn’t want me hanging out with boys.

I figured telling him that much would help stop their constant requests to drive me to and from school and to hang out afterwards. Of course, I’d love to do all of that, but I can’t risk it. I’m not telling them anything that isn’t true, but I’m also not telling them the horror that is my home. I think if they knew the full extent of my life, they wouldn’t want to hang around me at all anymore. They don’t deserve all my drama in their carefree lives, anyway.

Max:I’ll dress Ben up like a girl, since he’s the shortest, and ‘she’ can come over and ask you to come hang out.

Me:Poor Ben! Don’t do that to him! Besides, all of you are too masculine and handsome to be mistaken for girls.

Max:You think I’m handsome? :)

Me:Umm… yes?

Max:If you aren’t sure, you’re welcome to stare at my face anytime. You know, get a deeper look at all my chiseled masculine features.

He then sent me a pic of his face with some cheesy model expression. It was really hot and funny. And now I could look at it whenever I wanted. When I didn’t reply back straight away, he texted me again.

Max:You’re staring at me now, aren’t you?

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