Page 81 of Queen Rose

Griff has been looking steadily at his hands. He glances up, and our eyes connect. He bounds out of his seat and grabs a box of tissues that are sitting on the top of the bookshelf. He comes back with them and hands them to me. “It’s okay to cry. And none of us are judging you for that or anything else.”

I pull a tissue out and blot the wet skin beneath my eyes. I try to clear my throat, but there’s a ball of emotion there clogging the way. “Thank you. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

Beau turns his head toward me and nods. “I think you should tell us whatever helps you. Whatever you need to get off your chest, we’ll handle. For once, let us help you.”

Let them in, Aria. This is what you’ve always wanted. To be free of the burdens of your secrets. And these people—your friends—they want to help you.My chest clenches for a moment, the internal struggle very real. I’ve kept this bottled up for so long. Too long.

Daphne nods from across the room. I watch as her hand tightens on Micah’s thigh. “Agreed. We’re here for you. And if telling us about it will help take the weight off your shoulders, then we’re here to listen.”

“If I understood you correctly earlier, this could be hard for you, Daph.” My eyes flick uncertainly to hers.

She blows out a breath. “You understood. When I was younger, some football players attacked me when I was on my way home from the playground. It was a defining moment in my life. It’s not the same thing as long-term abuse, but—” She sighs, rubbing her hand over her cheek. “I understand being scared to tell.”

Micah lets out a strangled noise, his jaw tense, and pulls Daphne closer to him, kissing the spot on her head just above her ear.

I nod, then fidget for a few seconds, looking down at my hands. “I remember thinking I felt his erection a few times when he got into my bed with me. And at first, I didn’t understand. Didn’t know any better.” I let out a rough exhale. “I did eventually get it. But you also have to know that up until then, I loved Conner best. He was my hero. My protector. And at first, it made me feel good that he liked me in that way.” I swipe my fingers under my eyes. I croak out, “It’s sick and awful, and if you think I haven’t berated myself a million different times for not immediately seeing him for the perverted child molester that he is, you’re wrong.”

Lyla squeezes my hand. “He was there all the time. With your dad. That must have been so hard.”

“It was. And I’d make up reasons to be doing other things, or sometimes at night I would hide out on my balcony until I was certain he was gone.” I give them a sad smile. “I don’t think I’ve had a decent night’s sleep since I was twelve. Even if he wasn’t there, he was in my head. In my dreams. My own personal nightmare.”

“This is why you volunteer at the women’s shelter,” Scarlett murmurs.

I wasn’t sure if the girls would pick up on that. “Yes. It made me feel good to help other women who were in trouble… and it also gave me another safe place to escape sometimes.”

I’m trying not to look too carefully at Xander, but I can tell every admission of the abuse I’ve suffered is like jabbing at him with a hot iron. His body is stiff, even with Scarlett at his side, attempting to soothe him.

I clear my throat and continue. “A locked door never stopped Conner, so that monster came and went as he pleased. That’s when I started sneaking into Xander’s room. I’d go there… after…” I look up to see Scarlett quietly sobbing against Xander’s chest. And I know him—he’s just barely hanging on.

Nate growls beside me. “I already explained this to you—he took advantage of a young girl. He groomed you from age five because he was obsessed with you. His intent all along was to eventually have you. He’s a child molester, plain and simple. Aria, you never did anything wrong. Ever.”

Beau groans, looking over Lyla’s head and mine, directly at Nate. “I bet it pissed him off like crazy when he found out about you guys.”

I nod because Beau’s right. “It did. Especially because Nate was protecting me in a way, and he didn’t even realize it. If I was with Nate, I was safe. And I got to live the life of a normal teenager. But then while we were, um, busy doing things that teenage couples do, Conner knew somehow. And it set in motion everything that happened next.”

Daphne’s eyes widen. “Oh my God. Do you mean Christina?”

I release an unsteady breath. “Yes. He told me he dated her because she looked like me. He confessed to me that he killed her because he was angry that I wasn’t his ‘good girl’ anymore.” My hand raises to my mouth to cover it. From behind my fingers, I whisper, “That’s what he used to call me. His good girl.”

For a few tense seconds I think I’ve told them too much, several blink in shock. Others release uncomfortable groans. But no one looks away. No one hears what I’m saying and is looking at me any differently. “He got a sick satisfaction out of blaming me for her death and telling me what he’d done in disgusting detail.”

“Whoa.” Max shakes his head. “That’s unnerving. I don’t want to think about why he thought he could admit that to you.”

Griff frowns as his gaze slides to Max’s. “You mean besides the fact that he’s psycho?”

A cough bursts from Micah. “I think he means Conner either thought he had Aria so far under his thumb and so scared that he could guarantee her silence about that, too, or…”

Griff’s face pales. “Oh. You mean—”

“Don’t”—Scarlett holds up a shaky hand—“don’t say it.”

I choose to put them out of their misery, but the words don’t come easily. The only way I can express what I’m thinking is to cover my face with my hands. “I-I don’t know if I would have come out of there alive if you guys hadn’t shown up. H-he kept choking me—like he got off on it. Like he was reliving what he did to her.”

It’s quiet in the room for a moment, and I finally drop my hands from my face to find that they are looking around at each other, wholly disturbed. Only I know I’m not done. There’s more, and this is the most revolting part to me, the detail I hadn’t known about until Conner had let it spill. I whisper, “If you’re done, I understand. I mean if you don’t want to hear the rest.”

Xander’s head jerks sharply. “No, Aria. Finish it. No more secrets. You survived it. We will, too.” The pain in his dark eyes guts me, but I nod.

“Detective Jones has someone combing through my room again, looking for where Conner could have hidden or installed a camera. He’s been watching me all these years. And every time he assaulted me in my bed, he kept the recording so he could watch it over and over again.”

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