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“Boys will be boys.”

And the girls had to pay for that...

I didn’t want to remember.

Nothing good came from those memories, only shame and disgust. But they barged in, unbidden.

They locked me in a janitor closet after school once. One of them stayed outside, letting the others come in and use me in any way they dared or knew how. A janitor, an old woman, yelled at them and threatened them with her broom, sending them scurrying away like cockroaches. I ran...

After that, I tried to be especially careful. I’d ask to use the bathroom before the last bell rang at the end of the day, so I could run home while everyone else was still in class. I stayed away from dark hallways and ate my lunch sitting on the floor in front of the teachers’ lounge. But they still caught me outside near the playground area that spring.

They ripped my dress and broke my bra. The one who did it fell backwards when the bra clasp snapped. I used the chance to run away.

Mama yelled at me for the ruined clothes and slapped me. The bra was a hand-me-down, the only one I had. There was no way my parents would buy me a new one. When I came to school without it the next day, they said I did it on purpose, that I liked being groped, that I was a whore.

That I was asking for it...

Repulsion ran through me in a shudder.

An arm hugged me gently. With his touch, the memories ebbed, and I gasped for air.

“Salas.” I turned to face him, grateful for the lifeline of his hug that pulled my mind out of the past.

Did I voice any of those memories out loud? I wasn’t sure. But he looked like he’d heard it all.

“It’s been years...” I muttered. “Long ago. In another world. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“If you want to talk more, I’ll listen,” he replied simply.

I shook my head.

“I don’t want to talk. Don’t want to remember. I left that world. I just wish it would leave me too.”

He stroked my hair, gently easing the pins out of my up-do and dropping them on the nightstand.

“Sometimes talking helps. Even the darkest things are less scary if brought out into the light.”

“Does it really help?” I asked. “Is that how you deal with your past? You talk about it?”

His hand stilled in my hair.

“No. I’ve had other ways to deal with it.”

“And did they work?”

“My past has no hold on my thoughts anymore,” he said with conviction.

If that indeed was the case, I envied him.

“Lucky you.”

“Yes,” he echoed. “Lucky.”

I FELL ASLEEP WITHmy nose pressed to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around me. The position was unusual for me, not even the most comfortable, but warm and safe. I used Salas’s large body as a shield against the nightmares that threatened to spill from my memories into my dreams. And it worked. I got a few hours of uninterrupted, dream-free sleep and woke up to the sun already rising over the horizon.

He snored softly with his nose buried in my hair. When I moved my head, a deep rumble sounded inside his chest. He shifted closer, his hips hugging my thigh.

We shared a blanket this time. I’d never put a nightshirt on last night, and his sarong must’ve shifted during the night. As he leaned into me, I felt no barrier between his skin and mine. Hot, naked male body pressed against me, and one part of it felt considerably harder than the rest.