MY COCOON BURST.
The warmth and security that surrounded me splintered as my eyes sought out Blake’s. A smirk tugged the corner of his lips, and I knew he was misinterpreting my terror for shock.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
“He-llo! Sister outside.” Abby’s voice had a playful ring to it that only alcohol could cause.
“You knew they were coming?” I sat up, pulling the sheet around me.
Blake twirled a long lock hanging loose down my back. “Yep, Damon called me and asked if I was having my yearly party and said he was bringing Abby for the first time. I thought it would be a nice treat for you to see your sister.” He beamed with pride, looking satisfied that he had done something good for his girlfriend.
Oh, Blake. Read the damn journal already!
“Awesome.” My sarcastic voice tapered off as I sought out where my clothes were discarded, scared those two would find their way in before I could put them on. I sprang up, plucking my underwear and dress from where they lay as Blake did the same at a much slower pace. Hopping my foot into one side, I called out, “Coming!” But the music was so loud, I wasn’t sure she could even hear me.
Any alcohol I’d consumed earlier dissipated with each bang at the door. Staring at the knob, I smoothed my hands down my dress one last time before doing the same to my hair. With one final drag of air into my lungs, I closed my eyes and pulled any stray bits that had flaked off of the steely exterior I had built back into myself. I needed to remember who I was now and say goodbye to the scared little girl of my past. I couldn’t let being faced with the monster, who’d held me captive in my own silence for all these years, stumble me back to anything other than the strong girl I had spent the last few months building. I was different now.
And it was time he knew.
But, I had to be careful. Almost everyone I cared about was in this house right now. Two of them knew who my abuser was, and one was a few pages away from finding out. I needed to play my cards right if I was getting past this weekend. With a renewed confidence, I threw back the door.
Abby, mid-make-out session, fell backward into me, the fall unsealing her lips from Damon’s, whose brown eyes immediately landed on mine. Giggling, Abby spun to wrap her arms around my neck, and I cringed, knowing those same arms were just circled around him.
“Evaaaaaaa!”
Damon’s lip, pink from my sister’s lipstick, curled up in the corner. “Hope we didn’t interrupt.” He dragged his cunning gaze from mine to behind me.
Blake pushed up against my back, reaching over my shoulder to give Damon a pound as Abby pet the side of my face. “I missed you so much, you little stinky-head.” The strong aroma of alcohol floated off her breath.
My nose scrunched at the smell. “How many drinks have you had, Abs?” The half-mast of her glistening eyes and waver in her step told me it was probably more than a few.
“Aww, sissy-poo is worried.” Damon tapped the edge of my nose. The burst of his cologne rotted the contents of my stomach, sending a ball into my throat. “Don’t worry about her, beautiful. She’s in good hands.” He wiggled all of his fingers at me as though he were about to tickle me, and I cringed at the thought of him making contact.
My back bumped into Blake who was still so close, and he wrapped his arms around me, reminding me of his security. I straightened my posture, not wanting to give away that small lapse of strength, but I didn’t miss the tic in Damon’s jaw as his eyes drifted to Blake’s arms. He quickly pulled Abby into his own, and the inebriated fool sunk into his neck with another giggle.
“Where are you staying tonight?” I asked Abby, even though I was certain she’d go along with whatever the douchebag said. The last thing I wanted was to be under the same roof as him, but it was late and I didn’t want either one of them driving back to Damon’s place in their current state. Judging by the looks of them, I wasn’t even sure how they had made it here.
Before they could answer, Blake chimed in, reading my mind. “There’s plenty of space, so grab a room. I don’t want you guys driving.”
With an evil glint in his eye, Damon answered while looking at me rather than Blake. “Yeah, that’s probably best.” I shivered at the coolness that floated from his eyes, straight into my pores—the hidden meaning he meant for his words to deliver to me and only me. Damon straightened, loosening his hold on Abby to look first left, then right.
“Any one of these cool?”
His movement forced Abby to stand on her own. Unbalanced, she swayed, palming the wall with another short giggle. Her line of sight followed Damon’s, sweeping both ways. As her eyes swung left, a look of fright washed over her porcelain features, a hiccup swallowing her air in a large gasp. Eyes wide, I watched the blood drain from her face in one fast swoop, her smile slumping at the corners. I followed her gaze to find Eric standing at the end of the hall, leering at her. A beer hung lazily from his pointer finger, but his stance was sharp. Although I’m sure a million emotions were running through him, he didn’t give anything away. He just didn’t move, almost like he was testing out whether or not she would run into his arms. Damon was, of course, her fiancé, so she couldn’t do that, but I noticed the pulse in her throat and the small step she retreated from Damon.
Damon’s smile sagged as Eric began a slow prowl toward us, his hand flinging up to flip the beer bottle toward his mouth, his eyes insistent on staying glued to my sister. She was usually more careful. I knew if she hadn’t been such a drunken mess that she would have anticipated Blake’s best friend being here. Though they had only shared one kiss, and it was a secret only a few of us knew about, it was enough to start a fire that didn’t seem to be easily put out.
And Damon felt it.
I knew he did. I only prayed he didn’t act on the sudden hatred I saw ticking through his veins. Like a frayed electrical cord, I watched him zap back and forth, twitching, barely containing the lashing I was sure he wanted to dish out. According to Abby, Damon hadn’t drunk in months. To Abby that was just a day, but to me it was the day he nearly brutally raped me. Witnessing Eric and Abby together was what had set him off and, as I looked at the deranged swirl beginning to swarm his irises, I saw that same Damon take root. I hoped he would handle the liquor he’d already consumed better than he had that day, and that no one had to feel the wrath of the true Damon.
His fist clenched, and his gaze swung to Abby. On instinct, I stepped between them just as Eric approached.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Eric’s lip curled as his line of sight finally released Abby and dragged to Damon. In a slow incline, Eric dragged his fist up for a ‘pound’, his voice low and devious, matching the motion. “Sup, bro.”
Damon hesitated, a malicious gleam in his eye as his fist collided with Eric’s. “Sup.”
They each stared. No smile. No jest.
Just tension.
What was Blake thinking inviting them all here together where the alcohol was pouring from every corner?
I could honestly say the only thing he’d been thinking about was me, and his deep swallow told me he now realized what a mistake that’d been. Blake put a hand on my shoulder. “Babe, go help Abby pick a room. We’re gonna go get a drink, aren’t we, fellas?”
The apples of Abby’s cheeks were so red, I could practically feel the heat coming off of them. Luckily for her, they were still flushed from all of the drinking she had done, so there was a chance Damon hadn’t noticed. But, given the fact that they had spent almost their whole lives together, he knew her just as well as I did, and the hard set to his jaw told me he probably had.
His lip tipped in a devious smirk as something surely came to him, before his hand drifted back and swung in hard, making contact with her ass and jolting her back to reality with a squeaked gasp. She jumped as he squeezed. “Yeah, babe. Pick us a good room. I don’t want anyone to hear what I’m gonna do to you later.”
I wrapped my arm around my middle, nearly throwing up in my mouth. I knew that statement could have been taken in one of two ways, even though no one else seemed to. Abby didn’t say a word. Didn’t stand up for herself or tell him to go to hell.
Nothing.
I wonder if she’s as broken as I was.
The thought rolled a second wave of nausea through me. Again, I yearned to tell her all that Damon had done to me, to free her of her own set of chains. But, once again, now was not the time. I couldn’t out him and embarrass her like that in front of everyone we knew. Besides, she was too drunk to process it the right way. When I told her, it would have to be done delicately, especially after the lack of reaction I’d seen with the crass way he had just treated her. My sister was going to need kid gloves with this.
A lump built in my throat, its burn too painful to swallow, and I had to look away. I laced my fingers with hers. “Come on, Abs. I have the perfect room.” When she didn’t move, I lightly tugged, squeezing her hand gently as an urge for her to follow me.
Water built in her sad green eyes. “Yeah. Sure.” She tucked her hair behind her ear and dipped her head low, following me.
I secretly wanted to kick Eric in the shins for starting anything. He knew exactly what he was doing, setting her up like that. But in his defense, the situation bothered him just as much, and he was only making a play for the girl he wanted as bad as Blake had wanted me. A heaviness weighted my heart, instantly understanding the pain of wanting something you couldn’t have. He didn’t know the situation he was putting her in or how dangerous Damon could be.
When I came across the first empty room, I quickly ushered her inside and shut the door behind me. Before it was even closed, she crumpled to the carpet, sobbing into her hands. On instinct, I dropped beside her, holding her close with shushing tones while rubbing circles along her back.
“I did it again!” she wailed.
I shushed some more as fresh tears heaved her back. Riding her waves, I tried to tell her it would all be okay, even though a nagging pit sat low in my stomach, telling me I was probably wrong. But everything happened for a reason. I believed in that. There had to have been a purpose for what I had gone through—for the situation we were faced with now. And I had to hold faith that, once the fog I had been drifting through lifted from the murky air, we would all be able to enjoy the rainbows in its wake.
Abby collapsed forward, her forehead buried between her thighs, muffling her voice. “He won’t believe me after this one.”
Trying to gather my words, I continued to rub her back. When I didn’t answer right away, she dragged her head to the side with a sniffle. Mascara tracked her cheeks and streaked her pants. “I convinced him last time that what he saw between Eric and me was all in his head, but he’ll know for sure now.”
I recited the words running through my head. “Everything happens for a reason, Abby.”
She stiffened under my palm. “What are you trying to say, Eva?”
My heart was surprisingly calm as I answered. “I’m saying maybe fate keeps putting you in this situation for a reason.” I tried to get her to see the light without having to delve into the truth of the situation. Knowing my sister, she wouldn’t make it that easy.
She sat upright. “So my fiancé can hate me and lose all trust in me?”
I repressed a snort and fought hard not to roll my eyes at the trust statement.
Trust.
What a funny five letter word that people put so much faith in. At the end of the day, for most, that’s all it was—those five measly, meaningless letters.
She should only know.
I gulped. “Abby . . .” I exhaled, my brain whirling in the blur of a tornado as to where to begin. I took her hands in mine. “Maybe Damon isn’t to be trusted, either. Maybe . . .” My eyes roamed the room as though something in it would lend me the right words to use. “Maybe you’re meant to explore other avenues because Damon’s not for you.”
“Not for me? He’s only ever been for me! I was just a kid. Remember that?” Her eyes were wild, desperate for answers, daring me to give her the wrong one. I knew my sister was teetering on the brink of a meltdown.
Trying to calm her, I rubbed my thumb along the back of her hand. “When you truly love someone, when it’s the right someone, they’re supposed to be your beginning and your end. Your world should stop and start with them.” I explored her eyes, imploring her to listen. “Maybe Damon was your beginning . . .”
She dropped her head, her face beginning to crumble in the center as though she were about to start crying again. I lifted her chin with my finger, intent on getting my point across. “But maybe he’s not your end.”
“Why do you keep saying this to me?” her voice rasped. “You’re supposed to be my support system. My maid of honor. My best friend. And all you do is run away from me and spew hatred at my fiancé.” She shot to her feet, wiping down her cheeks, muttering, “I’m so fucking stupid.”
I hopped up, chasing after her toward the door before she could leave. I reached out for her hand, and the second our skin made contact, she spun to face me like a rabid animal. “I should’ve never come here. Stupid me, I keep looking for my sister—” The tone of voice she used when saying that word was so hypocritical, it was its own slap in the face. “—when all you are now is a stranger.”
That stab to the chest made my legs retreat a step. I pushed a palm into my heart, squishing away the hurt they brought. Behind her words, I could see a scared little girl. My big sister. The girl that I idolized and had looked up to my whole life. Who had taught me how to put on lipstick and stuff my bra before my boobs grew. Who had played with my hair and shouldered the blame with my parents every time I’d been about to get in trouble. “Don’t say that.” My voice was a mere whisper as it floated through the air.
“Why not?” She squared her shoulders. “It’s true.”
I thought then, about telling her. I thought about finding the right words. The words she would believe over everyone else’s. Over his. Then . . .
I looked into her frightened, glistening eyes and the red vines slicing through them.
She’s too drunk.
Instead, I reached for my bag of tricks—the façade that I had spent the last few months demolishing. The cure-all. I pieced it together and pasted it firmly in place with a deep breath. What used to feel like a second skin felt foreign to me now, like an unfamiliar coat that didn’t quite fit right. “It isn’t true, Abby.” I used my most soothing tone as I stepped toward her, calm washing over my eyes. “I know it seems that way, and I promise I’ll fix it. After this weekend, we’ll get together, just me and you, okay?” When a pinch of tension rolled off her shoulders, I took one more step. “Right now let’s focus on you. On fixing this mess. Deal?”
“I don’t know how,” she whispered, not really looking at me but somewhere far away. My heart broke for how lost she seemed.
“I’ll help you.” I scooped her hand into my own, and her gaze fell to the gesture before rising to meet mine. With a sturdier voice, I reiterated, “I’ll help you.”
Abby’s arms were around my neck so fast, the force knocked me backward before I could find my footing. She squeezed hard, the smell of alcohol curling through the cotton candy scent she always wore, reminding me to tread lightly with her.
“Eva?” She spoke into my hair.
“Yeah, Abs?”
“You feel different.” She pulled back and moved her palm over my stomach. “Are those cubes?” she squeaked.
I giggled at the look of shock in her big eyes. “Maybe a little. You haven’t seen me in a while. I’ll introduce you to my trainer. He’s here.”
Shit. After I said that, I immediately regretted the words. Introducing her to Drew wouldn’t be a good thing. It would most likely mean simultaneously introducing him to Damon, which could never happen. Ever.
“Get out! You’re, like, all muscle-ly and stuff.” She wrapped an arm around my bicep.
“Lil’ bit.” I smiled proudly. “It makes me feel good.”
“I’m glad.” Abby smiled back at me, her eyes reminiscent of something her mouth didn’t betray. The both of us remained quiet for a bit, happy for the rare gift of being alone in each other’s presence.
“Now,” I broke the ice. “What’re we gonna do with you? You’re a hot mess.” I laughed, smoothing back Abby’s long brown hair.
“Fix it,” she stated simply.
“Here’s the plan. Let’s freshen you up, then you’re going to go downstairs and make nice with your fiancé.” I paused, trying to remain strong through the idea of still calling him that. “Surely after a kajillion years, you know how to do that, yes?” I raised a brow.
“I think I can handle it.” She seemed to be brightening.
“Good. I’ll keep Eric distracted while you do that—and possibly knee him in the balls for this. After that, you can excuse yourself to bed to nurse the coming hangover you’re going to have tomorrow so you can avoid being trapped in a Damon and Eric sandwich again. Cool?”
Abby licked her lips and opened her mouth, no doubt to bite on that sandwich statement, when I held up a hand in front of her face. “Too soon for jokes, miss. Shutty.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
“Now come on. We’ve got some serious work to do,” I sighed. “Where’s Jace when you need him?”