Page 63 of Souls and Sorrows

How do you begin to fix what’s broken when you aren’t even sure you still have all the pieces?

But the longer I sit with the green monster, letting it fester until my heart is little more than a vacant hole that bleeds continuously. The bleeding never stops, no matter how many times I’ve tried filling the void.

It just weeps ceaselessly, and I feel like maybeI’mdrowning, and maybe it’s not as quick and easy as I told Cash it was.

Maybe drowning on the inside—where nothing is holding you down, except insurmountable agony—is the most painful way to go of all.

Picking at a chip in the wooden table, I fold my lips together. “When did it stop?”

“What?”

“The… relationship with my mom. The abuse.” I swallow, and it feels like drinking bleach. “How old were you when you got away?”

He frowns, clearly unsure of why I’m asking and how to respond. Silence settles in the booth between us, and I feel him studying me like I’m his patient and he’s desperate for a diagnosis.

Finally, he answers, “Nineteen.”

Tears burn behind my eyes, their fire spreading to my sinuses as he confirms my suspicions.

I always wondered if there was any overlap or if she’d taken a break in between her victims. But the fourteen-year difference between Kal and me adds up, and I realize she must have just picked up where she’d left off with him.

“Was it always… just the sexual stuff?”

Something flashes in his gaze, but it’s gone before I can really process it. “No. Not always. She played with my emotions, too. I think she wanted me to love her so the other stuff didn’t feel so wrong.”

My chest feels like it’s been ripped to shreds.

Yeah, I think.That’s exactly what she did.

Made us love her so we tolerated everything else.

Blinking rapidly, I soak the tears back in, swallowing them down before they can spill over. Kal remains silent, and for once I’m grateful that he isn’t big on conversation because I’m not really sure what else there is to say.

I think he gets it, the unspoken reason behind my question, and no words will change the facts.

The damage is done, and it’s not reversible.

It won’t ever just go away, no matter how many people I try to punish instead of her.

And even if Kal says he’s fine, I don’t believe him.

But I’ll get his vengeance too.

I won’t stop trying to heal us.

“You can’t tell Elena,” I say, and one of his dark brows quirks up, as if to sayTell her what?“About Cash, I mean. Well… I guess I’d prefer you kept this entire meeting on the DL actually.”

“I’m not going to lie to her.”

I don’t know why, but it feels like a threat. “Oh, so did you tell her about the Tallericos? Or Mikey P.?”

His eyes narrow. I’ve barely had time to think about the announcer and what his guts looked like on the outside of his body, especially since so much else happened after.

“That’s what I thought.” Grabbing my mug again, I bring it back to my lips, taking a long drink and letting its warmth blossom inside of me. “So, let’s just pretend this afternoon didn’t happen. Okay?”

“Is that why you’re doing this?” he asks, ignoring my question. “Because of…” He trails off, leaving dead air space in his wake.

Interrogation used to be his specialty, and it was what my father kept him around for outside of clinical tasks, but he can’t exactly use his old methods on his sister-in-law. Plus, asking for more information implies that he cares, and Kal works hard at maintaining his distance.

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