Page 39 of Jezebel's Liberation

“Yeah, I should.” I shift to face him again. “I was so damn angry when I thought you’d killed the wrong men. I couldn’t understand why you’d do that and then leave me to continue to suffer.” I shrug. “Now that I know the truth, I can’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if we’d talked more back then, if we’d confided our shame to each other.” I take several deep breaths before continuing. “But we can’t go back. We can’t change what happened. And as hard as the truth is to hear, I’m glad you told me. It explains so fucking much. But…”

“But what?” he prods.

“I’m not ready to talk about, well… I’m just not ready.”

“You don’t have to suffer in silence,” he says quietly. “You’re not alone.”

“Yeah? How’d that work for you?”

“I want a name,” he demands, pulling me back to the present.

Closing my eyes, I have to breathe through my nose, so I don’t vomit the liquor I drank last night. “Ted McCormick and Stewart Crane.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I open my eyes and see his confused expression. He doesn’t recognize the names, and honestly, that doesn’t surprise me.

Sighing, I enlighten him. “When we first started attending Father Brine’s church, they were nobodies, just members of the congregation. But after a few years, Ted became the youth pastor, and he used his position to prey on kids. His preference was girls, but he didn’t mind young boys in a pinch.”

Malice clenches his jaw, his lips in a hard line. “And Stewart?”

“He was all about the boys,” I reply bitterly. “After the fire, we switched churches, and I thought that would be the end of it. As soon as we walked in that first Sunday, I realized that there’d be no escaping them because they were both there. Things got worse after the fire, too.”

His eyes widen. “Worse?”

“As I got older, McCormick thought I was better suited tohelpinghim with his victims while Crane continued to brutalize me.” I chuckle darkly. “I became the thing I hate the most: an abuser.”

Malice shoots to his feet and comes to stand in front of me. “Fuck that! You were not an abuser, Mark. You were the victim.”

I roll my eyes. “I hate that word…victim. It implies that I fought back, that I said no.”

“Jesus,” he whispers harshly. “You were a kid. Trust me, I get it. I understand that feeling, but it’s absolute bullshit.”

“Ya know, I despised Mom and Dad for not protecting me,” I tell him, huffing out a breath. “But I still let those men do their worst to keep them safe.” Leveling my gaze on him, I add, “To keep you safe.”

He rears back. “What do you mean?”

“They told me they knew who started the fire that killed Brine and Block,” I explain. “They said if I didn’t cooperate, not only would they turn you, Soul, and Grim in, but they’d also set fire to our house so that Mom and Dad would die the same way as theirbrethren.” I wave a hand dismissively. “I guess we’re more alike than either of us realized… Both of us are willing to endure Hell for other people.”

“Fuck,” he mutters. “I wish… I wish we weren’t as stubborn as we are. Maybe we could’veactuallyprotected each other if we hadn’t kept so many secrets.”

“Yeah.” I walk to the couch and sit. “On a bright note, I killed McCormick when we rescued Jez. That’s who she was going after, although I still don’t know all the details.”

“And Crane? Whatever happened to him?”

I scowl. “He’s still out there somewhere.”

“Not for long,” he grumbles as he sits next to me.

“His time on this Earth is limited, that’s for sure.”

Silence settles around us, but it’s not uncomfortable, and for that, I’m grateful. Malice and I used to be so damn close when we were kids, before we knew how life could fuck you in the ass… literally. I’ve missed that, missed him. We may have been geographically close for a few a while now, but there has always been a distance between us. Maybe now that can actually change.

“I do have a question,” he finally says.

“Okay.”

“Is what happened to you why you’re fighting whatever it is between you and Phantom?”

Time for some more honesty… with him and myself.

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