Page 74 of Tied

All of it is horrific, each scar the worst in its own right, because every one signifies a moment that a little girl was tortured, and no one should ever have to endure so much pain. Especially a child.

But the word… itisthe worst. It’s a brand. It’s his sick mark on her that will never let her forget what he did to her and that he owned her.

Fuck you, motherfucker. She was never yours. She’s mine.

“Shit, baby…” I choke on the dry ache in my throat and move to pull her clothes up before I gather her into my arms, holding her tight against me as she cries, her tears wetting my chest. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, kissing the top of her head.

Her arms slowly go around my waist, and she hugs me just as tight.

Lifting her chin up with my fingers, I gently coax her to meet my eyes again. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper. “Every part of you.”

She bursts into more tears and buries her head back into my chest, hanging on to me like she’s afraid I’m going to disappear.

I lower my head and press my lips to her bare shoulder, then turn my face into her neck, breathing her in before dragging my lips up to kiss her perfect tearstained cheek.

“You’re not his,” I say. “Your heart, your body, every part of you is yours. Andyoudecide who gets to touch you from now on.”

I hold her as she cries, letting her get it out, hoping it will break down more of the walls we’ve built around ourselves. This baring of souls and secrets and exposing our damages to each other is like an exorcism—expelling the demons.

When her sobs subside, without letting her go, I grab a napkin from the table and hand it to her to wipe her face.

She gazes up at me and touches my cheek, her finger caressing the grooved flesh.

“I want to be yours,” she whispers. “Please let me be.”

I can’t resist or deny it anymore. I bend down and kiss her lips, softly at first, hoping she’ll kiss me back. Her body and mouth stiffen at my touch, then slowly relax against me, and her lips part, opening against mine. I cup the back of her neck with my hand and hold her gently as my tongue delves into her mouth. I tangle my fingers in her hair and tug her closer, my pulse quickening when she gasps against my lips and then sighs into my mouth. My other hand grips her waist and slowly travels down to her hip, pulling her against my body.

She pulls away slightly and moves her hands to rest on my chest. “I have to tell you something…”

“Anything.” I kiss the top of her head and gear myself up for another blow.

“I’ve never really been kissed before.”

Relieved, I lift her chin so I can stare down into her eyes. “That’s not true anymore.”

A small adorable grin spreads across her face. “You’re right.” Her gaze lowers to my mouth, and I kiss her again, a little longer this time, until she pulls back.

“And… I’m a virgin. He raped me… but… not…” I capture her lips with mine, saving her from saying the words that she doesn’t need to say and I don’t need to hear.

When we slowly part, I hold her face in my hands. “We’ll figure things out together,” I say, then pick up her sweater and hold it for her to slip into.

Can I be good for her? I seriously don’t know. The only thing Idoknow is I don’t know how to let her go, how to not want more, especially when she’s begging me to keep her.

CHAPTER 23

Tyler

The scent of spring is in the air, carried by the warm breeze. Perched high in this tree like a bird, I can see my house way in the distance, all the way down to the river. Other than that, I don’t see much, except a few squirrels.

I’m feeling a lot, though.

Laid out in my lap is a folder filled with photocopies of Holly’s file that my brother Toren got for me from a cop he’s friends with. I know I’m not supposed to see any of this, but I need to know what happened to her, without her having to go through the agony of actually telling me.

I don’t want to hear the wordsrape,sodomy, andpenetrationcoming from her beautiful lips. Nor do I want to see the pain in her eyes as she describes starvation, psychological manipulation, and mutilation.

Our relationship is slowly becoming more intimate, sensual, and physical, and I want to be able to touch her, tease her, make her feel what I want her to feel, without setting off some trigger that will ruin the beauty of every moment. To help her move past horrible memories, I have to understand what she went through.

Holly is a mirage. From a distance, she is so beautiful and sweet and, at times, adorable and silly. Just a normal girl, almost unaffected. But behind that vision is a little girl with dark, sorrow-filledeyes, forever lost, waiting for the next strike, living in expectation of fear and pain. She hides it well. Like a prey animal.

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