Page 132 of Ly to Me

I’m going to kill him. I’m going to cut off his fucking hands and force them down his throat for hurting her.

I could barely form the words as I asked, “He touched you?”

She nodded.

My throat tightened. “Did he…did…fuck.”Memories of taking her phone and Lyra using her safeword on me forced my arm to tighten more around her. What if I hadn't been her last, and he was? And then I all but forced her to be touched again.

Fuck, I had so much to fix.

“Did he rape you?”

Her forehead swept side-to-side against my chest.

I thought that would make it better. But it didn’t.

Hefuckingtouched her. He touched what was mine and tried to hurt her.

No.

Hedidhurt her, because here she was, years later, still affected by his actions.

“He doesn’t still live there, does he? Is that why you felt safe enough to come back?” Her body shuddered. Not an answer, but pressing her for one was wrong. She needed more time, and whether he was there or not didn’t matter. She’d be safe here with me.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. What he did”—my teeth ground together—“was wrong. What he did should have never happened. I can’t take away that day, can’t go back and show up earlier before Noah and Chet—” Even saying his name was putting a heavy shade of crimson over my eyes. I blinked until it faded. “What I can do is be here for you. Love you. Make sure no one else will ever put their hands on you again.” I pulled backand gripped her chin once more, pulling her gaze back to me. “You ever feel small like that again, you come to me, and I’ll do whatever I can to make it better.”

Her head bobbed in my hand. “Okay.”

My thumb smoothed over her bottom lip. “Noah was lying.”

“I know.”

“You know that now, but you spent years believing it was just as he said, that you were only a bet, and I understand why. I spent years believing you only wanted my money.” And another few wondering if what that fucking snake also told me that night was true, too.

“I never wanted your money. I only wanted you. Why would you think that?” she questioned, a deep scowl of confusion pulling at her brows.

“One of the last things you said was, ‘Is that enough?’”

“Enough to make you happy.”

“Fuck.” It’d never been about the money. She didn’t thinkshewas enough. “You were the only thing I wanted. You’ve always been more than enough.”

She nodded slowly.

“I’m so fucking sorry I was late, but I was coming for you, sweetheart.” I exhaled deeply, piecing together that night. “But when I got there, and you weren’t there...” I searched her eyes, wanting nothing more than to not explain this, but she had to know. “Hewas the one who told me you left.”

TEN YEARS AGO

My mom and dad were waiting in the kitchen, my dad’s arm around mom’s shoulders as happy tears lined her cheeks. With one look at my suitcases, she straightened, though my dad didn’t release her.

“Toothbrush?”

“Check,” I replied quickly.

“Wallet?”

“Check.”

“Underwear?”