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When the conditioner has been rinsed from my hair, I turn around to face him. Looking up into those beautiful light brown eyes makes me weak. He’s violent and murderous, but he bends and breaks for me, and me alone.
“Trav,” I whisper.
“Yeah?” he answers, gliding a shower puff full of body wash over my shoulders and across my chest.
“Tell me the rest of what happened.”
He pauses and looks at me, “What do you mean?”
“You said you left to keep me safe. But you also said you came back and I was gone. So what changed? What made you come back? If your dad was using me to control you, why come back at all?”
“Because I killed him.”
His response is fluid and stoic. No hesitation and no emotion. Just a factual statement that he’s relaying to me.
He killed his dad?
“Why?”
“Because I couldn’t handle his threats to you anymore. I wasn’t the lanky stoner from Lakeview anymore. I’d grown. I’d become what he wanted me to be. Turns out, the joke was on him,” he scoffs.
I nod my head, and silence fills the shower. He continues to cleanse my skin gently, paying special attention to where my wrists and ankles were bound.
“Spence?”
This time, I don’t correct him.
“Yeah?”
“You gonna tell me what you’re running from? Why you changed your name? I can find him ya know? Track Evan and Grant both down and kill the sons of bitches. You don’t have to keep being someone else.”
Sighing, it all weighs so heavily on me. Do I tell him? Do I let him in on my darkest secret? I know he’s savage, but what if knowing puts him in danger? The what ifs run through my head and make me dizzy.
“Stop thinking about it Spence. Just tell me.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I nod my head. “Fine.”
“All of it, tell me all of it.”
“Ok, but, let’s get out. It’s a long story.”
Reaching around me, he turns off the shower, and then he slides the door open, grabbing clean towels for both of us. Wrapping one around my shoulders, he slings the other low across his waist as we step out into the steam filled bathroom.
Drying off, I put on underwear and one of his large t-shirts and we both slide into bed. He’s naked. Always fucking naked. I swear to god, he’s going to be the death of me. Pulling me close, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and I settle up against him, tucked beneath his arm.
We lie in silence for a few moments and I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out, so I clear my throat and try again.
“When you left Trav, once he… once he realized you were gone, things escalated. They didn’t just escalate they got really, really bad.”
“Evan?” he asks, and I nod in response.
“He started dictating how I dressed. How I styled my hair. My makeup. Everything. I was a doll to him. I had to be perfect. And every night he came to me. During the day, I liked to hide in the basement and go through my mom’s things. He never looked for me there, and I felt safe. I - I found these…journals.”
I take a deep breath and he squeezes me closer, letting me know I’m not alone.
“He - he wasn’t my uncle, Travis.”
“What do you mean?” he pulls back a little and looks down at me, meeting my eyes.