One Week Girlfriend (Drew + Fable #1)(48)

Fable just stands there gaping at me, her eyes still flooded with tears. “How—how old were you when this first started?”

“Almost fifteen.” Horny as f**k, too. Adele knew it. She was beautiful, mysterious. She flattered me, flirted with me and I responded. She’s only eleven years older than me, she’d tell me we had more in common than she and my dad did, and then the next thing I knew, she was sneaking into my room in the middle of the night, touching me. Going down on me, making me come so hard, I thought I would black out.

I was young, full of hormones and eager to f**k. Constantly. And despite the shame and the hatred I had for myself and for her, I secretly wanted her to get me off. Sought out her attention because for a brief moment, I felt wanted, desired, loved.

And after, when she’d leave me alone in my room, I was ashamed. Disgusted. Full of hate for her and for myself. For my dad, who was completely blind to it all. For my mom, who died when I was young and wasn’t there to protect me.

“You were a child and she took advantage of you, Drew. That’s not an affair between two consenting adults, that’s your stepmom molesting you.” Her voice is shaking, her entire body shakes, much like mine, and then she does the craziest thing.

She runs to me and grabs hold of me so tight, like she’s never going to let me go. She’s crying, sobbing into my shirt and I slowly slip my arms around her and hold her close. I have no tears, there’s no sadness welling up inside me. I’m emotionless. Blank. I think I might be in shock.

I just confessed my darkest, dirtiest secret and Fable didn’t run. She didn’t laugh, she didn’t mock me, she didn’t point any accusatory fingers.

For once in my life, I feel like I’ve finally found someone who understands.

Fable

I knew it. As much as I didn’t want to face it, I knew the problem stemmed from Adele. As the week wore on, more and more clues were revealed, and my suspicions grew.

And now they’ve been confirmed.

Hatred fills me, so overwhelmingly strong I’m dizzy with it. I hate that woman for what she’s done to Drew. How she continues to torture him. She’s disgusting. She’s a f**king child molester who should be in jail, for the love of God, how she took advantage of Drew.

I hate her with everything inside of me.

“We need to go,” I say against his chest, my voice muffled. I pull away so I can look up at him, notice that his face is completely devoid of emotion. He’s in shutdown mode and I can’t chastise him since he’s most likely using it as a coping mechanism.

The minute we get back home, I’m telling him he needs to go to a professional therapist. Get what happened to him out of his mind once and for all. Not that he can ever let his past experiences go for good, but he can at least talk to someone. Seek help so he can better cope with everything.

“Drew.” I shake his arms and his eyes focus on me once more. “We need to leave. Now.”

“You’re right. Let’s go.”

I run to my room and toss everything in my bag, then zip it up. I grab my purse, my sweatshirt I’m going to wear and glance around the room, making sure I haven’t left anything.

Really wouldn’t matter if I did. I so want out of here, I don’t even care.

I wait for Drew in the living room, keeping watch out the window, my gaze zeroed in on the main house. They haven’t left yet for whatever they planned to do to mourn Vanessa’s death. I see the Range Rover parked out in the drive, as if Drew’s dad pulled it out earlier in preparation. At least it’s not blocking Drew’s truck.

Thank God.

“Do you want to say goodbye to your dad?” I ask when he comes into the living area, his bag slung over his shoulder, his expression still somewhat blank.

He slowly shakes his head. “I’ll text him. Have they left yet?”

“No.” The panic is blatant in my voice and I clear my throat, irritated with myself. “Drew, I don’t think it’s a good idea if we go over there…”

“I don’t either,” he interrupts.

Relief sweeps through me and we head out to his truck with hurried steps, my movements downright frantic as I toss my bag into the narrow back seat of his extended cab. He climbs into the truck the same time I do and we slam our doors in unison, Drew jabbing the key into the ignition.

We’re so close to being out of here, I can almost taste it. I’ve never been so happy to leave a place as I am at this very moment.

“Andrew!”

I jerk my head to the left, watch in disbelief as Adele runs toward the truck, stopping at the driver’s side door. She’s smacking the glass with her fist, yelling for him to roll down the window and he stares at her, his hand on the gear shift, ready to put the truck in reverse.

“Don’t do it,” I murmur. “Don’t open the window. She doesn’t deserve your attention anymore, Drew.”

“What if she tells my dad?” His voice is small, he sounds like a little boy and my heart breaks for him. His pain has become mine.

“Who cares? You’re not wrong in this situation. She is.”

Keeping his head bent, he reaches out and hits the button so the window slowly rolls down. “What do you want?” he asks her coldly.

“Just…please come with us. I want you there, Andrew.” She flicks her cold, hard gaze at me briefly and I stare back. Just as cold, just as hard.