Page 130 of Under Your Scars

Brave.

That’s the word people use to describe you when you’re a victim and they want to support you but don’t know how.

But I don’t feel brave.

I feel broken.

“So you think if I had sex it would do more harm?” I ask nervously.

“I think you would never recover if you had sex right now, Elena,” my mom says firmly. “If you truly crave pleasure that badly and want Christian to be a part of it, just start slow and be careful, okay? He loves you. He will do anything for you, even have sex with you if you ask—but don’t unintentionally make him the bad guy by rushing into things. You have a lifetime to have sex. Give yourself the chance to recover, and your future self will thank you for it.”

Well, that’s it then. The verdict is in. I have problems for wanting sex less than a month after being raped. Maybe my mother is right, though. Just because my body craves pleasure doesn’t mean my mind does. I might just be experiencing normal, human wants and desires, but acting on them is an entirely different situation.

“Ellie, have you thought about getting a therapist out there in Meridian City? You are first and foremost my daughter. Talking to someone without an emotional connection to you will help you far more than I ever could.”

I nod, though it’s a complete lie. I haven’t once considered a therapist. The hospital gave me some pamphlets with information on how to find one, along with a sexual assault crisis hotline and, disturbingly, the suicide hotline. But I never thought about calling them. I ripped them up and threw them in the trash. Not because I didn’t want a therapist, but because there is so much I can’t say to them.

I’d have to leave out so much of the story to continue to keep Christian’s alter ego a secret, and I haven’t put much thought into what my story would be if I left him out of it. I wasn’t randomly targeted off the street and raped by strangers. I was taken because of who Christian is, as himself and as the Silencer. I was taken because his enemies knew how important I was to both sides of him. It’s a miracle they didn’t do the math and find out about him themselves.

“Do you think I should talk to dad?” I ask.

My mom scoffs. “Absolutely not. I’d give him the cold shoulder until he apologizes to you.”

She immediately looks like she wants to take it back. It twists uncomfortably my gut as she shifts awkwardly in her seat.

“I don’t like when we fight,” I say, staring down at my fingers with sadness.

“It’s not a fight. He said something horrible to you, and he owes you and Christian both an apology.”

“Christian is a good man.” I quietly reconsider my words and then add, “To me. He’s a good man to me. I wish dad could see that.”

Christian is objectively not a good man. He is a serial killer and though I’ve made peace with that after everything we’ve been through, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s got so much blood on his hands he could fill a lake.

Seventy-three people, by my count. Twenty-one of those have been since he met me.

Maybe that makesmethe bad guy.

CHAPTER 38

THE SILENCER

Elena’s father didn’t come out of his office all morning. Not even to say goodbye.

Good riddance.

It took every ounce of my self-control to not knock his teeth out this morning when he very clearly told Elena that he thought she was only good enough for me because it was easy to get her to spread her legs.

I understand that he has issues with me, but he has no right to take that shit out on his daughter. If anything, all his attitude is doing is pushing her further into my arms, which is fine with me. It’s where she belongs.

As I drive us to the airport, Elena picks at a few split ends of her hair and sighs. “Hey Christian?”

“Yeah, baby?” I reply absently as I take a sip of water from the bottle I took from her parents’ house.

“What did you talk about with my dad last night?”

It takes considerable effort to keep my demeanor calm and unassuming. “My father, mostly.”

“They really did know each other?”