Page 57 of Without You

Katie

“Who was it?”

“Brody. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That night when we were at the cabin and Tate’d been drinking, then I brought you home because you didn’t want to stay the night there. Who was it that had you so scared?”

I stare at him with wide eyes from where I stand next to the counter in my kitchen while he faces me. He doesn’t look intimidating, but he does look seriously ticked off.

“I haven’t thought about that night in years.”

“Me either,” he grunts. “But I thought of it tonight and want to know who had you so scared that you didn’t feel safe that night. You said it wasn’t Tate. Was that a lie?”

“No. It wasn’t Tate.”

“Then who?” he demands loudly, lifting up and slamming the wooden kitchen chair he’s standing next to back down quickly. In the open space of my studio apartment, it makes a loud bang.

I flinch and whisper, “B. Calm down.”

He grips the back of the chair and drops his head, taking deep breaths. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Lifting his head, he says, “I’m sorry. The memory hit me and I remember that night you seemed seriously freaked out and I hated that and wanted to fix it but you wouldn’t tell me what was going on and that’s okay because that night you weren’t mine. But you’re mine now and that means you’re mine to take care of and to protect. I’m not going to go all hulk and kick some guy’s ass for treating you badly fifteen years ago. That wouldn’t be right and I’d probably land in jail but…”

I interrupt him by asking, “Then why do you need to know?”

“I don’t know. I can’t stand not knowing.”

He moves to me and takes my face in his hands, rubbing a thumb over the apple of my cheek. “You get that I like you. You get who I am to you, right?”

“Yes.”

“I will stand beside you, behind you, in front of you, whatever you need from me. I will protect you, Katie. That’s just the kind of guy I am. I can’t change that. I can’t stand the idea of someone hurting you. It makes me sick.”

“It wasn’t a guy.”

“What?” he asks, dropping his hands from my face. “What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t a guy I was freaked out by. That would make sense, I know, but it wasn’t that. It was Mallory. Well, not just her, but mainly her. Her little group of cronies were there, too, which didn’t help.”

“Come again?” he asks, rightfully confused.

“Mallory,” I repeat.

“Mallory. The girl I dated and took to prom our junior year?”

“The one and only,” I grumble, sneering a little.

“Thinkin’ we need to have a little more explanation here. I’m completely lost. Why would you be scared of her?”

“You didn’t see this because she hid it well, but she was awful. Like, the absolute worst. The definition of a mean girl.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” I confirm.

“I had no idea.”

“Like I said, she hid it well.”

“What’d she do to you? And why?”