Page 58 of Injustice and Absolution

“My father abused me between the ages of seven to fifteen.”

“Abused... How?” Drew’s question is barely a whisper, as though he’s afraid to know the answer.

“You name it...” I admit.

And then, having already opened the gaping wound, I relay all the sordid details from my fucked-up childhood to him, not stopping until the water around us is as chilling as my words.

Drew is silent the entire time, giving me the space and security I need to let my demons out.

“…until I was fifteen and Royce took me in.”

He remains quiet for a while, and I finally strike up the courage to look at him. Placing my hand on his chest, I push off of him slowly then lean back against the other end of the bathtub.

He takes one of my feet in his hands and begins to massage it absentmindedly as he mulls over what he’s just learned about me. When his eyes meet mine, I don’t miss the question in them.

“Ask me,” I help him out. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

He blinks and swallows nervously before speaking.

“What happened to your father?”

“He died.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. The smart answer would have been the story everyone else believes to be true—that he left. I blame the slip up on my heightened emotional state. It’s messing with my ability to think straight. “Uh … but I don’t really want to talk about him.”

Drew nods, thankfully, but his brow furrows as well. There is a recognition in his eyes that tells me he knows there’s more to the story. I’m grateful that he, respectfully, doesn’t push any further. When the chill of the water causes me to shiver, he removes the stopper from the tub before getting out.

He grabs a towel from the rack by the wall then holds it open for me. Taking his lead, I step out of the water, and he wraps me in the soft terry cloth, warming me once again.

He leans down, pressing his lips to mine, and I enjoy the taste of him. I didn’t realize I was craving his kiss until right now.

“Let’s get you into bed,” he suggests.

Even after everything that happened tonight, including recounting the horrific events of my past, I can’t imagine anything I’d rather do more than curl my body against his and stay in his arms, warm and safe, all night long.

* * *

As I sip my coffee, I fight the urge to message Maggie to tell her what happened last night.

But she will only tell Royce, and I don’t want him to know. Plus, we still haven’t spoken since the day I moved out. And I’m not trying to use my attack as an icebreaker to get us to talk again.

“Listen,” Drew speaks from the seat across from me. “Last night got me thinking... I want you to rethink moving in here with me.”

Had the events of last night never occurred, I think I’d be irritated. But with everything that happened, I don’t know how much I’m looking forward to going back to my apartment alone.

Jesus, it’s only been one week.

Do I not have what it takes to make it on my own?

The thought makes me angry, and Drew believes it’s directed at him.

“I know you told me not to bring it up again.” He moves around the table and turns my chair to face him. Crouching down in front of me, he continues. “But I can’t stand the thought of something else happening to you when I’m not around.”

I think about his words for a moment before I speak.

“But that doesn’t help when I’m at work. What are you going to do, hire me a bodyguard?”

When he doesn’t rebuff my suggestion, I know he was thinking of something just like that, or worse.

“Drew...” I begin to protest.

---