Page 46 of Vendetta

“For giving me that.”

He kisses the side of my head. The side with the scar. The side where I should be able to look at him but I can’t. Somehow I don’t mind it so much now.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“About what?”

“The other men.”

“Blaine found the first. He roughed him up a bit till he told us who the others were.”

“But you knew before. You said it before. You said there were others before even I did.”

He narrows his eyes. “Do you want the truth?”

“Yes.”

He shifts, moving around so that he’s no longer behind me but sat across, facing me. As if I need space now to hear whatever it is he’s going to say.

“I was there.” He states.

I frown. “Where?”

“That night.”

I blink. I think my heart stops for a second. What the fuck is he saying right now?

“I saw you in that bar. I watched your performance. I was going to approach you after. You were mesmerising….”

I’m staring at him. I know I am. How the hell was he there? How the hell am I only just hearing this? And then my mind registers something else, that he saw my face, he saw how I was, how I used to look. I feel my heart clench at that. He knew me before. He knew what I looked like.

“…I saw you go outside for a cigarette. I saw you reject that man through the window.”

I gulp. I haven’t had a cigarette since. I haven’t sung since either. That’s partly why I ended up working in Nico’s bar. Because I have no other skills. I have no qualifications. I was a singer. That was my life. And they stole that from me the night they stole my face.

“Did you see them? When they attacked me?” I ask. My voice sound so cold now. So harsh.

He winces. “I heard your screams. I didn’t realise they had followed you. I didn’t realise what they were planning.”

“They wanted me to fuck them.” I say. Not that it wasn’t obvious.

“I know.”

“They waited for me. They waited outside the bar. They followed me, assaulted me. I ran but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“It’s not your fault.” He states.

I pull a face. That’s not what they said. Not what they shouted when they poured that acid over me.

“Eleri…”

I shake my head. I don’t want to hear it. That night ruined a part of my life but I’m done obsessing over it. Done letting one awful moment dictate everything else.

“Do you want to hear the rest?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“There’s more.” He states.

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