Page 126 of Restitution

I laugh. “He’d be mortified,” I say, wincing as Kade grabs a towel and cleans up my thighs. “Does the therapist help?”

“Yeah. He’s due to arrive today so we can work together in person, if he can get past the crowds outside the gate. He’s been teaching me these mentally stimulating exercises and how to compartmentalise my trauma. When things get dark, I’m learning to work my mind away from the disconnection. I’ve been seeing him since I was young, so I trust him.”

Being so focused on Kade and his downward spiral, I’ve barely spared a second to think about everything that happened to me. Everything I went through was packed into a little box and stowed away, waiting to be opened when the time was right. But it’s really a shattering hourglass, the grains of sand representing everythingwe’ve been through, and it’s close to cracking.

If talking to someone, a professional, makes Kade feel even a smidge better, then I should do the same. Maybe the weight on my shoulders will vanish – the hollow pit in my stomach threatening to break me.

Chris is dead. He can’t hurt me anymore. Kade brutalised him, leaving him on the edge of death, but it was me who slit his throat. I killed my abuser. So why do I feel like he’s about to pop out of the shadows and pull me under?

“Can… can I see your therapist too?”

Kade takes my hand and helps me off the bench, wrapping his arms around me with a warm smile, so our naked bodies are pressed together. “Of course. Anything you want.”

“Yeah. I think I’m ready to properly talk about everything.” I gulp and lace my fingers behind his neck. “I kept so many secrets, and I’m scared they’re going to drown me if I don’t actually… talk.”

Not with him. Not with my best friends or Aria, or even Kyle, who’s been calling constantly and insists on helping with whatever he can. Nora has apparently cut all ties with me, but I don’t care.

I can hold my hands up and finally have my voice – be heard without the fear of rejection or backlash.

Kade kisses the tip of my nose. “I’m proud of you. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it, but I am. You’re so strong, Stacey. You’ve been strong enough for the both of us. Thank you.”

I tilt my head. “Why are you thanking me?”

He kisses me softly. “I was an asshole, yet here you are.”

Laughing, I pull away and grab my clothes, and we dress. “We have years. Let’s make it up to each other until we’re old.”

Kade takes my hand and presses his lips to the top of it. “Years.”

37

STACEY

“When did it start?”

I tilt my head, looking down at my leg, which is folded over the other, my fingers fidgeting. “When I was fourteen. My mother died, and my dad married a woman called Nora. She had two sons.”

Kade’s therapist hums and tips his glasses up his nose. “Had?”

“One is dead.”

“And I assume that is Mr Mitchell’s doing?”

My eyes flicker to the side; I’m unsure how much he knows and how corrupt he might be. “What do you mean?”

“Was he murdered?”he asks.

“Yes.”

“Kade inherited many attributes from his father, but most of hisskillswere trained into him. I’m aware of these. I’ve been treating him since he was a boy and noticed a dramatic change in him when he was leaving his teenage years. He loves you, and has for a long time, but he had no idea how to control how he felt and sometimes it made him angry. But nowhere near the way he gets now. I know his aggression, and how deep he can fall into his own mind.”

There’s a pause, and he lowers his notebook. “If your abuser was the dead stepbrother, then I don’t need to do the maths to know who took care of him.”

For some reason, I feel comfortable talking to this man. Even though I don’t know him, I blurt, “Both of us.”

“Excuse me?”

“Both of us took care of him. Kade did the most, but I ended it. I had to end it.”