From Ashes (From Ashes #1)(81)

He grimaced. “You really don’t talk about it often?”

“No. I mean, I told Tyler everything, but it was so he could figure out how best to take care of my injuries.”

“I didn’t open up for a long time, until I was almost sixteen I think, but once I finally did everything changed. I still don’t tell just anyone; you’re actually the first person I’ve told in a long time. But you need to relive it all and get everything out there, or else you’re never going to move past it. You may think you have, but it’ll always haunt you, Cassidy.”

Thoughts of how easily all my fears had surfaced when I saw Gage at the party that night came to mind. Connor was right, but I’d spent so long not talking, I didn’t know how, or if I even wanted to start now. “Did you have bones broken a lot?”

“That last night was the only time. Did you?” I don’t think he’d even realized it, but his eyes had slipped into that same intensity he’d had a little over a week ago in the Bradleys’ den.

“No, they were too smart to break anything. Had a lot of cracked ribs, but anything that would have required a cast they stayed away from. Stitches though . . . they didn’t seem to understand or care that people needed to get stitches.”

“Did that happen a lot?”

“Stitches? I needed them probably once a month or so, only ever got them a few times though. Tyler was good with butterfly bandages.”

Connor’s eyes widened for a moment and I bit my tongue.

“Uh, didn’t you ever need stitches?”

He shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Not until that last night.” He paused and then leaned closer, his face only inches from mine. “Cassidy, how often did you get hit?”

I began to back away but one hand snaked up and locked behind my neck.

“Cassidy, how often did they hit you?” he repeated, and that cool intensity in his stare held me where I was. What was it about that stare and those eyes?

“Every day. Is that—is that not like your situation?” I asked when his next breath was audible.

The hand on my neck squeezed lightly and he hung his head. “No. For us it was every two weeks or so.”

I mouthed the words he’d just said. I guess it was na?ve, but I’d thought all kids who were abused had it pretty much the same as me. “Did you—” I suddenly broke off on a gasp and pushed back against his hand until he let go when he looked up at me from under his lashes. Oh my God, how could I have not recognized him?! I’d dreamed about that look, dreamed about those eyes!

“What?”

“You’re that cop!”

His eyes widened and he straightened slightly. “I didn’t think you recognized me.”

“You knew who I was and you didn’t say anything? You’ve just been acting like—like you cared?” I gasped again. “Were you even—” I backed away from him and grabbed my purse.

“Say it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said coldly, and stood up before he could trap me in the chair again.

“Cassidy,” he pleaded, but I was already walking toward the side exit door that emptied out into an alleyway. “Cassidy, wait!” Connor’s hand grabbed mine and he brought me to a stop. “It does matter. You need to talk about it.”

My hand involuntarily tightened around his even as I tried to walk away. “Are you a therapist too or does it just come with being a detective?”

“Neither, but you’re never—”

“Stop with the hidden interrogation bullshit, Connor!” I cried “I know what you’re doing! You’re doing the same damn thing you did a week and a half ago! Only now you’re—you’re—you look like this!” I waved my free hand in front of him. “Did you follow me here? Did you think dressing like a normal person would help me open up to you? Were you even abused as a child or did you use that to get me to talk too? Did you just want to know my past so you could figure out if you made the right judgment on that call all those years ago? And why does it even matter anymore if they’re dead?”

His brows slanted down and he backed me up until I was pressed against the wall. “You think this is all some play to solve a case, Cassidy? A case that’s f*cking closed? That was barely even opened? You honestly believe I would make up some sob story to get you to talk to me?”

“God, just stop! I know all of this was so you could find out the truth about my life! And I know you people do that, you lie about stuff to trick people into saying what you need them to, you make up stories so they think you’ll understand. So I hope you feel better now that you’ve gotten what you’re here for, but I obviously have nothing to hide from you anymore! And if you really want to know what I got out of the will, Detective Green, I got her money. I got a lot of it. Yeah, that probably makes me look even worse than before, but I couldn’t care less about the money! I was shocked that I was even in her will. And another thing: the fire was no accident, but you won’t be able to find the person who did it, because she killed herself in the fire.”

“What?” His eyes bulged and one brow raised.

“She left me a letter, and from what she said in it, she was going to make sure both she and Jeff didn’t make it out, but I don’t think Jeff had a clue. So I don’t know how or what exactly she did. But there you go. She killed herself and him. Burned that godforsaken house to the ground and took them with it. There’s everything, Detective Green—”