Page 47 of Mastered by Them
Even later, seeing the list of arrests, the charges, made me sick.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at the photographs.
Now that I’ve had time to think about it, I wonder if I was too rash in sending him away. Should I have waited for an explanation? If I had, though, he would’ve just told me none of those charges stuck. He would’ve said an arrest doesn’t make him guilty. Abusers always have excuses.
I didn’t do it.
If I did, it’s because she made me.
It wasn’t bad.
If it was bad, it was her fault for not being stronger.
And in the end, he works for a criminal family. I don’t know how I could’ve expected anything different from him.
“I can’t take this anymore.”
I look up, startled to see Edmund standing in my bedroom doorway. Cackle jumps from my lap to greet him.
“Can’t do what?” I ask.
“You’re like a ghost. Barely living, barely talking to me. And, sure, fine, you hate me I guess, but you’re not even calling your friends or family. You haven’t gone anywhere except to work.”
I’m surprised he’s noticed. He’s been busy, going out at all hours, and often on his phone or laptop when he’s home. I figured my comings and goings weren’t registering. I guess he’s been paying more attention than I thought.
The idea sparks a little warmth in the vicinity of my empty, aching heart.
He picks up Cackle, who purrs in his arms. “Look, while I think you jumped to some conclusions about Troy?—”
“You’re saying he didn’t do those things?” I let skepticism drip from my tone.
“Christ.” He closes his eyes and rolls his neck. “I’m not saying he didn’t do some of those things. But he never, ever attacked a woman, never hurt a woman. The sexual assault allegations are completely wrong. He was helping those women. We see terrible shit in our line of work. He was helping, but he got blamed because of who he works for and how he looks.”
“Everything else on the list?”
“I don’t want to lie to you, Danica. He probably did some of it.” He sets down Cackle, who ambles out of my room to wreak feline havoc on other parts of the house. “And what he did was all in the line of work. Under my direction, my father’s, or my grandfather’s. It’s part of our life, and part of yours, too, even though you’ve conveniently ignored it.”
“Conveniently?” I sputter. “I didn’t ignore shit, you fapping fuckstain. My family kept me in the dark. I had no fucking clue, so you can shove those assumptions right up your perfect ass.”
He grins. “You like my ass.”
Of course that would be the part of my speech he fixates on.
I stand up and gesture at the wall, in the direction of Troy’s empty room. “Do you even care that he left?”
“You think I don’t miss him, too?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “I’ve known him a lot fucking longer than you have, and he’s been the one positive constant in my life. So don’t tell me I’m not sad, Danica.”
I press my lips together, hard. I hadn’t thought of it like that.
“And I understand why you were mad.” Edmund stands up, stalking toward me across my dimly lit bedroom. “I get it. But you shouted at him, and you wouldn’t listen when he tried to explain.”
“So him being gone is my fault?”
He stops mere inches from me. “Yes.”
The accusation is a blow. I know he’s right, because it’s the same thing I’ve been telling myself for the past four days.
“Yes and no,” Edmund continues. “It’s just as much my fault.”
