Crushed (Torn #7)(35)

“Where are you going, Amber?”

“Somewhere,” I mumbled out, loathing the fact that he seemed to want to know where I was going most of the time these days.

“Wait up a sec—”

I didn’t wait. I couldn’t. Everything was blotted out, and all I could see was Rob and hear his scratchy voice ringing in my ears as I tried to sprint my way out of there. I was desperate to be alone, away from prying, dark eyes that took in whatever I did, as if he could see through my shaky barriers and the fa?ade I was portraying, as if he could easily see through my lies and faults.





Chapter Nineteen





One thing I realized was that I couldn’t be anywhere that people knew me too well since they would suspect something was amiss. Try as I might, I couldn’t escape the demons that constantly plagued my mind. I was suddenly back there, on that night when everything crumbled and I was left defenseless while that pig of a man took advantage of me.

Almost running up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, I reached the safe confines of Carter’s room before hastily locking it, as if Rob was chasing me, as if he was there, in this house, laughing and taunting me.

Heaving and huffing, out of breath, I almost jumped out of my skin when a loud pound came at the door.

“Amber! Open up!” Brody demanded, making me freeze on the spot as I stared at the door, weighing my options, and then he pounded his fists once again. “Open the f*uking door!” he threatened, making me think twice about not letting him in.

Exhausted from physical, mental, and emotional exertion, I decided against my better judgment and opened the door. Unlocking the bolt, I barely heard the click before he pushed through, barging right in like he had every right.

“What was that all about? What’s been going on with you?” he shot the questions out one after the other, leaving me speechless and a bit nervous.

“I can’t—I can’t talk about it,” I stuttered, looking away before pacing.

Clearing his throat, he kept his eyes trained on me like a hawk as he said, “That’s your choice, but unless you plan on talking soon, I’ll be stuck next to you like glue until you feel like it’s time to fess up.”

Was that a threat? “That’s not fair.” I threw him a pained look, needing him to just leave me be.

“I know it isn’t, but I care about you, and I can’t sit back and watch you walk around with your head low and with fearful eyes. Call me a dick or whatever, but I’m sticking around. Here. In this room.”

Our eyes clashed, and I noted how serious he was, that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he meant it when he said he cared for me. His words left me emotional, and though I tried to grasp at the last straws of my strength, I knew I wasn’t going to make it.

I had held it in for as long as I could, but this time, my energy, my will ran out. Holding it together was so hard, so difficult. I was choking in my own world, and I needed someone to save me.

“I did something”—I couldn’t look at him as I uttered the words. It was all too much to bear—“something so horrible that I can’t even forgive myself for being so stupid.”

“Whether it’s good or bad, I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Brody took a few steps towards me but stopped when he saw something in me. Maybe he realized how fragile I was. I wasn’t sure, but keeping him at arm’s length made it easier for me to speak about what had taken place that night.

Keeping this wretchedness to myself was taking a major toll on my body, on my mind. The guilt and blame weighed so heavily on my soul I didn’t have the energy to keep it together.

I was damaged inside and out, and whether Brody would be disgusted by my revelation or not, at least he would understand where I was coming from. However, in the back of my mind, I prayed he would at least try to be less judgmental of my horrid actions. In some ways, I needed him to supply me a little strength to fight this through.

“Whatever happens after I tell you, I need you to make a promise,” I softly demanded, needing his reassurance, his promise, his word. He had to know how delicate this situation was; the hardship of even considering speaking about it was killing me slowly. “You have to promise me on your life that you won’t tell anyone about this, not even if you feel so strongly about it, not even if it pushes your buttons, your boundaries. You have to promise me you won’t utter a word to anyone.”

“What did you do, Amber?” He had a look that made me shiver, as if he, too, knew how awful this was going to be.

“I can’t tell you until you give me that promise, Brody,” I persisted, knowing I was gambling on his reaction and hoping he wouldn’t see me differently after my confession.

He nodded, his brows furrowed, as he gave me a look that made me think he knew and felt my deep pain. “All right. I promise not to tell a soul. Whatever I hear from, it ends in my ears.”

Hearing him gave me encouragement.

“Thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate this.” Clearing my throat, I braced myself as I catalogued my thoughts. “Well, it began about a week ago.” I paused, shallowly breathing as I tried to muster the strength to get the words out. “That night … that night before Carter left for Brazil the next day…”

Brody growled from across the room. “Don’t tell me Carter did something f*uked up to you, or I’ll kill that SOB!” he snarled angrily.