The Passing Storm(84)
A terrible miscalculation. For the rest of her life, she’d question why she didn’t scramble inside the car instead.
She blurted, “I guess wifey got in the last word.”
Anger surged across Mik’s face. “Who gave you permission to disrespect my wife?” Catching Rae by the shoulders, he stripped off her coat. She was about to scream when he clamped a hand across her mouth.
He shoved her into the car.
Chapter 30
Sharing the grim secret brought no relief.
Mostly, the telling brought shame. A black tide impossible for Rae to outrun. She let it rush over her.
Beside her on the couch, Griffin stared straight ahead. He gave no reaction.
When it seemed he’d never break the silence, she rushed into the void. Rae wasn’t sure which was worse. The telling, or the consternation turning Griffin’s features to stone.
“That night . . . I never should’ve opened the bottle of whiskey. Why did we even take it from your father’s liquor cabinet? Teenagers do the stupidest things.” Rae got to her feet. She needed to escape the black tide threatening to drown her. “It’s not like I’d ever been drunk before. That March after the White Hurricane, we’d only just started sneaking into your dad’s liquor cabinet—believing we were old enough to imbibe, which we weren’t. I guess I was getting bored, waiting for you to show up. Downing all those shots of whiskey was my first mistake.”
Nervously she cast a glance. Was Griffin listening? His eyes were glazed.
“My next mistake was sticking around. Once Mik and Penny came into the parking lot shouting at each other . . . I should’ve got back in the car. Right then, before everything spun out of control.”
Slowly Griffin lowered his elbows to his knees. He clasped his hands like a man seeking the solace of prayer.
Dragging her attention away, Rae looked out the window. “I didn’t have my cell phone—I was so upset with my dad that night, I’d stormed out without grabbing it. Even after I got to your house, I didn’t realize I didn’t have it. A typical Rae move, leaping without thinking. Anyway, I should’ve left the parking lot once the Galeckis showed up. Driven to the nearest house and banged on the door. It’s not like I could’ve driven home. I was too drunk.”
For a moment, she was angry at her younger self. Furious at the inexperienced girl whose actions led to terrible, unforeseen consequences. With effort she resisted the sinking sensation gelling inside her. The destructive thought had plagued her throughout her early twenties. As if she’d been responsible for her own rape.
It wasn’t my fault. I know that.
She knew the self-reproach was falsehood. Those corrosive thoughts only made the healing more difficult.
Rape is an act of violence. I’m not to blame.
“The last mistake I made that night? It was the biggest one of all.”
She leaned against the window’s glass, welcoming the chill. Welcoming the cold understanding. There was only one path forward. Live with the scars from that act of violence.
She was still learning.
“After Penny struck Mik, I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Griffin, I can’t explain it . . . it was terrifying and funny at the same time.” Miserable, she pressed her face fully to the glass. Pinpricks of pain chilled her skin. “No—that’s not accurate. That’s what I believed at the time. Probably believed for a long time afterward. Here’s the truth: I was so frightened, I automatically mouthed off. Went into my comfort zone of cracking jokes. As if I’d bring the situation under control by taking charge in the most asinine way. My stupid, impulsive habits. I always leap before I—”
Startled, she lifted her face from the glass. Soft, nearly imperceptible sobs reached her ears.
Griffin was crying.
He’d buried his face in his hands. His shoulders heaved as he tried in vain to muffle his despair. Apparently to keep himself together until she finished rambling. Rae swallowed down a sob. His grief was tangible, more powerful than incense.
Sensing her appraisal, Griffin dragged his hands from his face. In a flash, his gaze turned to steel.
“I’ll kill him for what he’s done to you.”
“Wait. Griffin, no.” She took a step closer, hesitated. “I didn’t tell you so you’d take revenge.”
“He’s a dead man.”
“Griffin!” Stunned, she wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you hear yourself? You’re not being rational. Stop talking like a crazy man.”
“Mik has to pay for this. I want him to pay. Barring that, I’ll settle for seeing him do a long stint in jail.”
“No.”
“Now, hold on. Rae, we can’t let him get away—”
“No!” Lifting a hand, she thwarted further protest. “You’re forgetting about Quinn. What will it do to him, if I drag his father through the courts? Assuming I even can.” She had no idea of the statute of limitations on rape. Nor did she care. “It’s over, Griffin. You’re behaving as if this happened tonight. Deal with it—I have. I’ve made my peace with the past. You must do the same.”
“How can I, after what he’s put you through?”
“Because I’m asking you to.”
Surrendering to her decision, he rose. This time when he approached, he didn’t wait for an invitation. He bundled her into his arms. Griffin was a large man, but he’d always been uncommonly gentle. With the lightest touch, he steered her cheek to his chest. Held her against the uneven thump of his heart as grief shuddered down his spine.