Page 153 of Whisper

“Does it matter?”

“It matters more than anything else,” she answered.

I said nothing.

“I’ll go let everyone in,” she said, withdrawing her hand and leaving me with my brother to go let the fam into the house.

“Want me to kick them all out?” Kruger asked, watching them all file inside.

Yes. “No,” I replied. “I owe them an explanation. And an apology.”

“You don’t owe anyone jack shit.”

I half smiled. “Maybe not. But I want to tell them. It’s time.” And I was already vulnerable, so just getting it over with all at once seemed like the better option.

We got out of the car, the sound of the doors slamming echoing along the dark street. The row of townhouses was illuminated by streetlights, creating pockets of light over patches of green grass, concrete sidewalks, and the blacktop covering the roadway.

Despite all the units, the night was quiet, most windows darkened because the day had been put to bed. The simple thought created a sinking feeling and made my feet heavy. I looked up at my dark bedroom window, thinking of the bed beyond it with its soft sheets and pink blanket. It seemed unfair that after sleeping with him for only one night—Fine, it was two. I was now counting the jail sleepover. I had to take what I could get—I would now suffer so many sleepless ones because I wouldn’t be in his arms.

Did everyone get this attached so fast? So dependent? Or was that just another of my faults?

An intrusive thought bulldozed all others, making my mind do a U-turn. I never got to see all his tattoos. Our first time, I’d been exploring him, tracing the ink with my finger, and he’d asked if I wanted to see the others. I’d said no because I’d been too impatient to have him, and now I would never see them. I would never know what they were or be able to trace the designs.

“P.”

I snapped out of my head, attention flying to my brother.

“It’s okay if you want to be with him.”

“You know I can’t do that,” I said, the words ripping out of me from a deep, painful place, so hurtful I couldn’t even pretend Kruger was wrong.

“I know why you think that. Why you feel it. But I also know he’d move the earth if you gave him the chance.”

“I thought you didn’t like him,” I snapped.

“But you love him.”

I sucked in a breath.

“Not everyone is like them.” Ben persisted. He was a ruthless bastard when he wanted to be. “Some people will love you back.”

Oh, that hurt. It hurt so much I let out a low whine as my chest caved in. That was it, wasn’t it? Not only did they lock me up, abuse me mentally and physically, revoke my name… but they didn’t love me.

I loved them.

In spite of all the shit they did, I tried. I tried to be the good boy they wanted. A good boy worthy of love. I wasn’t enough.

In the end, my love was paltry and never once returned.

I couldn’t tell you which of these things broke me more. But growing up in the dark, lacking light and love? It stunted my growth, forever freezing a piece of me as the small, helpless boy that no one could love.

So yeah, it was nearly impossible to believe what Ben said.

“You, Jess, and Gram are different,” I whispered, voice wet.

He thumbed over his shoulder toward the front door. “I got a whole house full of people about to prove you wrong.”

I hesitated.

---