Page 55 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

A TERRIBLE SECRET

Cassandra

Nathaniel hasn’t said a word to me since we got in the car. He drives us home in silence. The radio hums in a low and meaningless note, and the atmosphere is tense enough that even I stay quiet too, resisting the urge to check my phone. Text Beckett. Undo what happened.

I mean, what was I thinking?

The only answer is, I wasn’t.I wasn’t thinking at all.

I was scared and anxious.I still am. I really wanted Kayla to come with me and sleep at my house, and she seemed willing to come, but he didn’t let that happen.

I didn’t ask twice because I felt too scared of what would happen if I did. What if he attacked her next?

We pass the bridge leading to Port des Ondes.

The road is dark, and the headlights are blowing my vision.

Nathaniel starts whistling under his breath.

I’m too nervous to address the situation, and by the time we pull into the driveway, I feel ready to go to bed.

The moment we step inside our parents’ house, I rush to my room and lock it shut.

Through all the mess of thoughts clouding my mind, one still clings to the idea of hope.

Maybe this is it.

No screaming.

No bruises.

Just a bad night.

Hesitantly, I unlock my phone and check my messages with Beckett.

Our chat is empty besides our last conversation about his birthday celebration.

Beckett was born on October 31st, a fact that I’d forgotten until yesterday evening.

He texted me back just to tell me nothing special was done besides going swimming with Tony.

I felt bad for not remembering; I could’ve at least baked him a cake.

Other than that, nothing new, of course. But it’s not like I was expecting him to reach out to me in the first place. If I want to fix this, I need to be the one to make the first move.

Me: hi Beckett.

I know it’s late and you’re probably really angry, but I didn’t mean any of it. It came out wrong. I just…

Idk. I’ll go to sleep now I guess.

I just miss you and I don’t like fighting.

I don’t like fighting with anyone,but fighting with you tonight was the worst thing ever.

You won’t read this I guess, but I am sorry.

I’ll go to sleep now.

Beckett reads the texts, and I see the three small dots at the bottom of the screen appear and disappear until it’s been way too long for any real answer to come.

He won’t even text me back?

Okay. I guess that’s it then.

I slip out of my dress, hopping towards the bed. Clean my cuts, and change into pajamas.Sleep doesn’t come because I feel the urge to cry starting to rise, so I text Kayla instead.

We go over everything, dissecting it piece by piece.I try to reassure her that I’m okay and even go as far as coming up with stupid reasons to explain why my brother would joke about something so tragic as a teenager’s death, but I don’t find any strong excuses.

My best friend seems worried about me, especially after what she saw tonight. She thinks I should be calling my mom. I tell her that Nathaniel isn’t even that upset anymore. That it’s just…

It’s just a bad night.

Or maybe just a bad night until the pounding starts.

I flinch, suddenly startled by the noise. My gaze drops from the ceiling back to my phone. 3:00 A.M.

When did it get to be so late?

Why do I never see time passing anymore?

Down the hall, I hear his voice. My brother sounds the same as he did three years ago. Loud and strong. He wants something, and he won’t stop until he gets it tonight.

“Cassandra, open up the door.”

Don’t open the door.

“Please, I just want to talk to you.”

He doesn’t want to talk.

He will hit you.

He will hit you again and again.

He might even do worse.

“I’ll wake up Dad if you don’t,” he warns me, and I chuckle, a bitter, broken laugh, feeling my eyes tear up.

It’s such a brotherly thing to do—tell on each other—but never for us because Nathaniel and I are wrong.

We’re tainted. His sins and my silence have ruined everything, shattered whatever affection I once held in my heart for him.

I used to worship the ground he walked on; my brother meant everything to me.

He was, and will always be, my first heartbreak. I feel sick just thinking about it.

“Please, don’t hurt me,” I beg as I open the door, backing up until I hit the wall. “I can’t do this anymore, Nathaniel. I mean it. I really, really can’t do it. I’m so tired.”

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Nathaniel promises as he steps closer, fingers brushing against my cheek. When his hands are on me again, he sighs with relief.

I hate it.

I hate his touch.

I start, wanting to defend Beckett and Lucia, “About what happened tonight—”

“I thought about it, and I get it now.” Nathaniel cuts me off. “He got in your head, right? But I won’t let it happen again.”

He lowers himself, his face so close I can see his pupils. They’re blown wide. High. My brother is high again . He’s using things to cope that are only going to make him feel worse again . I have to deal with him alone because I’m the one he runs to when things get hard all over again .

Nathaniel breathes out, swearing above everything important, “I won’t let them pull us apart, not ever again.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“They’re vicious, Cassandra,” his voice drops, eyes burning into mine. There’s paranoia in his every move. I’ve never seen anything like it. He sounds insane. “They want to separate us.”

A chill slithers down my spine.

“Who? Who are they?”

I pause, considering who they might be. If I’m being logical about this, especially after what happened tonight, he’s talking about our neighbors.

“Do you mean Beckett and Lucia?”

His grip tightens around my chin. “Don’t say their names.”

“Okay,” I swallow hard, trying to loosen his grip by pulling his fingers apart. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Good.” His thumb skims over my lips. “God, I want you so bad.”

My stomach lurches. We’re too close.

“Nathaniel?”

“I try not to, but I can’t help it.” He presses his nose against my hair, inhaling the scent of me. “Ever since I first saw you, I just kept having these thoughts. All these thoughts, they keep plaguing me. I can’t stop thinking about it. About you.”

My whole body locks up.

“I need you to stop.” I manage to say, but body is shaking. “Please, Nathaniel. This isn’t right. Dad’s going to send you away again.”

The mention of our father, of Nathaniel being sent away, finally breaks the spell. He lets me go, and I scramble to the other side of the room for distance, grabbing something to throw at him in the process.

“I would never hurt you, Cassandra.” He frowns, staring at the small vase in my hands. “I swear.”

I shake my head. You already have .

“Why do you think they want to pull us apart?” I refocus, trying to get him to explain what’s making him drown in delusion. “They’re our neighbors, Nathaniel,” I emphasize. “Beckett is my friend .”

“How can you call him a friend? Don’t you get it?” Nathaniel starts gesturing around, desperate for me to agree with him. “It’s all them, Cassandra. They don’t understand what we have. All these people, they don’t get it. They never have.”

“You’re high,” I accuse, my voice breaking at the last syllable. “What did you even take this time?”

Nathaniel blinks.

His smile is lazy.

Drunken.

He sounds so far gone.

“I like him, Nathaniel,” I insist, trying to get him to see how foul his prank was. “He’s a good person, and you really hurt him tonight. Why did you do that?”

“I… I didn’t do it on purpose.”

He never does.

My brother is stuttering, and I wonder if it’s something he’s doing it to gather empathy towards him. Could he go as far as pretending to have emotions such as feeling nervous? Maybe.

“I know you’re just pretending to like him because of Dad.” He takes a step forward. “You’re so smart for doing it, you know?”

“Is this what you think I’m doing?” I shake my head, appalled at the thought that in the end, Nathaniel’s delusion has such deep roots.

“My feelings are not pretense, Nathaniel. When you hurt me, you really hurt me. When I say I like him, I mean it too. I’m not putting up a front right now. I’m so mad at you.”

“You’re mad at me?” His eyes widen with shock, and I start to hate what I’m seeing. This fake innocence doesn’t suit him. “That’s okay. I love you enough to forgive you for it.”

“You don’t love me,” I choke out. “And please, stop acting like this is all coming as a big surprise to you. You know exactly what you did tonight. You saw me having a life beyond this fucking mess, and you hated it.”

My words seem to rub him the wrong way.There’s nothing someone like Nathaniel hates more than to be confronted with the truth.

He can’t handle the thought that we’re actually a problem, he and I.

There’s nothing beautiful or pure about our bond.

Just hurt and mistakes piled up together, weighing on me.

And what happened with Beckett fills me with such visceral anger that I can’t help but fight back.

“How can you say that?” He takes another step, his voice so broken. Then, another. Until I’m being pressed again, trapped between him and my bathroom door. “You’re everything to me. You’ve always been—always been my everything. Ever since I saw you, and you were this small thing, I adored you.”

His hands grip each side of my face, keeping me right where he wants me.

I breathe in and out sharply and scream, “Get the fuck away from me!”

The voice in my head is warning me to run as his lips brush against the sides of my face.

This isn’t a home; in fact, this is a prison.

I’m being locked away from the world while he gets to feed me with fear and self-hatred until I am reduced to a fragment of a human being with no sense of sanity.

Once I become crazy, he will find himself vindicated enough for not getting everything he wanted the first time.

My brother is abusing me mentally and spiritually. I feel taken again and again. I don’t even have anything left to give.

“I hate you,” I cry. “I really hate you.”

“Cassandra, all I want is for us to be together forever,” Nathaniel tries to convince me. “You’re the most important person in the whole world—”

“If I’m that important to you, why do you always try to hurt me?” I try to pull away, but he presses himself even further, using his body to get me to stop moving. “Wait, Nathaniel, get off me!”

Pushitdownpushitdownpushitdown.

He isn’t going to kiss you.

He isn’t going to do anything.

No.

No.

No.

No—

“Stop!” The words slip out recklessly, my last resort hanging between us. I push him off, and he stumbles back towards the bed, a shocked look on his face. “Prove it!”

I don’t even know what I’m asking for right now.

I just need him to stop.

God, I can’t do this again.

“If you really care about me at all, tell me how you got the drawing.”

My brother stands still.

Our game .

“You really want me to prove it?” Nathaniel drops his arms along his body, like a puppet. “Who even cares about the drawing?”

“I do!” I snap, thinking of Beckett again.

If I find out what really happened, maybe I can fix things. Maybe the truth is how I get out of this mess.

“What the fuck did you do to her? I swear to God, if you lie to me again, I will never forgive you for it.”

“Fine,” his voice is flat, more distant than before. “If I have to, I’ll do it.”

The room is too quiet, too cold.I cross my arms over my chest protectively as a cold breeze slips through the window. It knocks the decorations I keep hanging on the walls, the one that’s made out of seashells. I stuck it near my bed frame a year ago, and now the wind is making it spin slowly.

Nathaniel’s smile stretches slowly.

“Well, actually…” He tilts his head, considering his options. “I might as well just show you.”

“Show me what?” I choke out, unable to breathe.

And then he answers, softly—almost sweetly—like this is a secret I’m supposed to be impressed by.

“I’ll show you exactly how I got rid of her.” Nathaniel pauses, arching a brow. “How I got rid of Lucia Evans.”