Page 9

“About Dave?” I dare to ask, knowing mentioning his name pisses me off.
Her lashes flutter. “Yeah. I mean, I was stupid for so long.” Her gaze drops to the snow as if maybe it holds the answer. She never looks at me. It seems to me she needs to talk, and I’m not about to interrupt. “I look at Evan and Ami, and I can’t stop thinking about what happened to her. She looks good. She’s healing, so why can’t I get over what happened to me? She got over it? Why am I still being a bitch about it? He didn’t even hurt me like he did her.”
“Callie—”
She doesn’t let me say anything. “Why did I constantly put myself in that situation time after time when I knew what he was doing?”
Constantly? As if this happened more than once? I want to ask her, but I also don’t want to make it worse for her. So I keep quiet and let her vent.
I know a lot more about Callie than most of the other guys she fucked around with. Mostly because I listened. Something others don’t care about. They’re there for one thing. Not me. Well, I wanted that one thing. I wanted to fuck her as much as the next guy, but I also care for her. She’s had a rough life so far. You’d never think it looking at her—so put together, with a good job, and pampered—but she’s independent, and considering where she’s come from, that speaks volumes about her as a woman. Being raised by a guy like Ed Pratt couldn’t have been easy.
As we walk up the steps of the Masen home, her shoulder bumps mine. “You talked to Dave, didn’t you?”
I nod, not knowing how she’ll take it. “I did. That night. I had to know why.”
A shiver works through her as we sit down on the porch swing outside. “And he said?”
My brows pull together, worried this will make her feel worse than she already does. “Do you really want to hear this?”
She doesn’t hesitate when she says, “I think I need to.”
“He said you deserved it.”
“He’s probably right.”
Anger immediately jolts through me. I’m no longer cold. I groan, unable to hear anymore. “No, he’s not.”
“I feel guilty. So fucking guilty because I put myself in that situation with Dave. I let him get that rough, and I didn’t stand up for myself, knowing damn well it wasn’t okay. I should… have never let someone treat me like that and think it’s okay. But I feel worse because I didn’t say anything.”
I said what I needed to say to Dave, and I probably won’t talk to him again. I’m not one to dwell on the past or things I can’t change. It doesn’t stop the fact that I want to kill him for making Callie think she’s not good enough.
“I… it wasn’t that I was being easy,” she adds. “I hate women saying I’m this way because I have daddy issues. Or abandonment issues. You know? For a while I thought I it was a bullshit excuse. But the more I think about it, the more it comes down to that. They’re right.”
Anger pulses in my chest as she continues. I hate that she’s taking the blame.
“I lost my virginity to Wes Taylor when I was sixteen in the locker room with two other guys watching,” she tells me, her words softer than before, as if admitting this isn’t easy for her. “I never felt ashamed, though it wasn’t consensual. I said no many times, but it went unheard. What I felt guilty about was that my father knew what happened and said nothing to me. Nothing! He treated Wes like royalty.”
My blood rushes to my ears, and they start ringing. Numbness spreads through my face, and I can feel every muscle in my body begin to tense and restrict. I draw in a shaky breath and try to remain calm for her. She doesn’t need this reaction from me. I know one thing. I need to find this Wes guy and beat his ass. Clenching my jaw, I stare at the ground, trying to force myself not to react that she basically admitted she was raped at sixteen, and her father knew it. A man in his position let his daughter get raped by a player? I hate him even more. I want to know what Dave did to her. I want to know because, well, I feel like I need to. She’s opening up to me, and I want her truths. I want to know her and be there for her. Maybe my reasoning is to understand where she’s coming from with all this. And where I stand in all of it. Or maybe I’m just fucking confused. Probably that.
I glance over at her, cheeks red, eyes glazed over. “What did Dave do?”
Callie hesitates but looks over at me. “You really want to know?”
“Not really. I don’t want to think about you with someone else, but maybe I can understand a little more and help you in turn. I’m your friend, Callie. You can talk to me about this shit.”
She chews on her lip, considering. “Dave, well… it started out fine, but he just got rough.”
“And by rough?” I think back to that chick that made me choke her until she passed out and how in those moments when she was unconscious, I panicked the fuck out. I legit thought I killed her.
“I…” Now she’s the one hesitating. “Are you absolutely sure you want to hear this? No take backs. You have to promise to still be my friend after this.”
I nod and hold out my pinky, as cheesy as it is. “Pinky swear.”
She locks her pinky in mine and lifts her eyes to mine. “It started out fine. Doggy style, and then things changed. After that, I don’t know. Somehow he hit me in my face and made me suck his cock. He got rougher, and that’s all I remember. I passed out at some point because I couldn’t breathe.”
My ears are still ringing. Rage pulses through me with every breath, but I’m good at stuffing that shit down. I did it growing up, and you know, I’m a fucking professional at disguising my emotions. I have to be. I have the best poker face around.
Sighing, Callie draws in another breath. “You probably didn’t want to know any of that, did you?”