Page 126 of Frozen Hearts
“It wasn’t a friend of mine.”
“Huh?” Her statement momentarily takes me aback. “Then, was it someone else?”
She shakes her head, her eyes wide, as the hand clasped around her coffee cup trembles.
“It was me. Grayson is right about that part. I was the one who went to the police.”
“Youmade the false allegations?”
What the fuck?I expected her to provide a different theory to Grayson’s, not to fucking back up what he’s been saying about her. Does this mean he’s been right this entire time, and I’ve allowed Riley to take me for a fool?
Her hand wraps around my wrist, and I realize how cold her fingers are as they squeeze tightly. It pulls me out of my head, and I blink into her beseeching eyes. Eyes pleading with me to listen, to believe.
“Iwent to the police, Logan. But the allegations weren’t false.”
“What?” My head is spinning. I’ve jumped off a diving board into the ocean and now can’t tell which way is up. “But that would mean…”
“His dad raped me.”
“I don’t… that can’t be right.”
“It is. Nearly every night for six months, his dad snuck into my room and assaulted me.”
“No,” I argue, shaking my head. “Grayson would have known.”
“Grayson was never home! He was always out with his friends or off partying. On the odd night he stayed in, those were the only nights his dad left me alone.”
Rather than balking at her accusation, I force myself to sit still and appropriately take her in. To take in her ashen skin. Her shimmering eyes wet with unshed tears.
Seeming to realize that I’m listening, the words start to spill out of her. It’s as if she’s kept them bottled up for so long that, now, she’s loosened the cork. The momentum slowly gaining until it pops off like on a champagne bottle sending the contents spraying everywhere.
“I went to the police, but they couldn’t do anything without physical proof. The sheriff took pity on me—Apparently, his teenage daughter had been assaulted at a party and the culprit was never convicted. He looked into Bertram and levied the only charge that would stick against him. And honestly, I didn’t care. He was out of my life, and that was all that mattered.”
Feeling like I might throw up, my eyes inadvertently travel to the juncture between her thighs. “Your scars…”
She quickly closes her thighs, redirecting my attention to her face. Gone is the pain and anguish, replaced with a sharp mask. “Do you believe me?”
Do I believe her? Fuck. How could I not?
“Why have you never told Grayson this?”
She scoffs. “Because he’s never allowed me the opportunity. He’s never been willing to listen. He kicked me and my mom out of his house without any questions asked, and I never saw him again until I woke up in this god-forsaken fucking house.” Frowning, she waves a hand toward the closed door. “He hasn’t exactly been in the frame of mind to listen to anything I have to say. Not that I think for one second that he would believe me, anyway. He’s so convinced that what he believes is the truth. It would take a lot more than me telling him otherwise to change his mind.”
I chew on my bottom lip. “And you don’t have any proof?”
It’s subtle, but I catch the slight change in her posture. The straightening of her spine, the squaring of her shoulders.
“You do, don’t you.”
“No,” she snaps quickly. Too quickly.
My eyes narrow on her. “It’s nothing,” she counters, not meeting my eyes. “Nothing irrefutable. Not enough to prove to Grayson.”
Before I can push to know more, her eyes snap to mine, narrowing as she tilts her head in thought. “You said Bertram told Grayson it was me who made the claim?”
“Yeah.”
“How did he know?”
