Between Commitment and Betrayal (Hardy Billionaire Brothers, #1)(71)

His gaze was locked on me. “I want his full name and address,” he ground out loudly, but the volume of his voice didn’t scare me.

“Declan.” I shook my head. “This has been over for a while now.”

“He did all those things to you. He shouldn’t go free. He should be dead.”

He searched my eyes for how I felt, but I wouldn’t hide it. Most days, I wished I’d pulled the trigger after hearing what he did to the others, after they called and cried to me like it could absolve them of the burden and trauma he left them with.

“Everly, fuck.” He paused like he didn’t know how to say the next words. “I was rough with you last night. I’ve been rough with you.”

“I wanted that from you.” I poked him in the chest. “I get to want what I want, Declan. Why can’t I, huh? You read the article. The media got what they wanted. Andy got what he wanted from me too. But do I get what I want ever? To move on?”

He petted my hair, trying to take away my pain, but no one could do that except for me.

I sighed and shifted in his lap to look out the window instead of in the eyes of a man I was falling for when I shouldn’t be.

“The media never covers the aftermath of a victim.” I pushed the blankets off and went to grab the jersey he’d dropped. He let me go, knowing this was important for me. I put my hands on my hips, jersey hanging down my thighs, and faced him. “I’ll be honest. Yes, he took control of my body for a few minutes. That’s it. Was it the longest couple of minutes of my life? Probably. Have I struggled with my sex life since? Sure. Will I always? I don’t know. Either way, I learned that night that I could fight back. That I wanted to fight. That I wanted to survive.”

“It’s why you insisted on the self-defense classes,” Declan said, like he was putting it all together.

“Sure. Among other things. Andy had hit me before that. Self-defense is a gentle reminder that I shouldn’t allow that without fighting back. I did for so long. And I jog to work even though there may be a risk of assault, but I’ve equipped myself. I wear what I want even if I have to plan ahead to quell my anxiety of doing so. I don’t think it’s fair that I should live with a burden he created.”

“Jesus Christ. I …” He pulled at his hair. “I’ve manhandled the shit out of you more than once, Everly.” Regret he shouldn’t feel was something I knew I had to blame on my ex, another wrench thrown in for survivors of abuse that their lovers had to endure too.

“And so … what? I have to take a gentle lover now because I’m some victim when that’s not what I want? Not only can I not act out, but I should be careful where I go now, be aware of who I love, stay cautious and have every one of those responsibilities put on me? I have to consider it all every day, and I don’t want to. I don’t freaking want to.” I repeated it pointedly, furiously.

I hated that when I glared at him in front of me, his eyes were glassy too. Declan, the man who acted on every emotion was now holding his back from me too.

I dug my nails into my palms, ready to let him know this last thing and then package this up in a box to bury far, far away as a memory I didn’t want. “You know, my lawyers said the best way for a ‘mixed woman’ to fight the media is to stay calm. That I’d done a good job not hurting him when I had the power to. I was praised for not taking his life and having a level head even though he’d taken everything I was from me.” I dragged in a shaky breath. “I’ve made sure to always have a level head now with cameras on me. You’ll be able to count on that for the remainder of this marriage, at least. If I cried back then, it would have made me look crazier. If I screamed or got mad, it would have been over. My mom did. She grabbed a cameraman one time to protect her only daughter. You know what they did? Labeled her as trash.”

Just that one day had created so much turmoil for us both. I remember how she’d cried, how her braids slid over her shoulders as she hung her head, and I vowed then to never let the media get to her again.

Calm. Silent. Void of emotion. My demeanor was a weapon in that courthouse that I used effectively.

“You deserve more justice than what you’ve been given.” I saw how the veins on his neck protruded, how his jaw worked, how his knee jumped in fast fury.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m trying to live my life the way I want and feel what I want. I won’t live in fear or be ashamed of my desire for another person because of what he did to me.”

His jaw worked up and down. Up and down. When someone cares for you, your pain is their pain. He was mulling through what I knew most people in my life had to work through, and it wasn’t easy. Tonya couldn’t even do it.

“I’m still me, Declan,” I whispered, not sure he understood that I wasn’t ruined, that I wasn’t tainted by all this, that I’d survived in the best way I knew how.

“But, baby, you’re so much more. Don’t you get it? You’re the drive to keep going when someone took everything from you. You’re the will to survive when most of us would have given up by now. You’re all the raindrops in a tsunami of courage and strength.” He got up and came to me, lifted his hand to my cheek, but before I could get comfort from his touch, he fisted it and pulled it away.

There it was. That past catching up with me and molding the people around me again. The past followed me everywhere. It shaped the present and the future. A past I couldn’t escape no matter how hard I tried.