Page 15 of Saviors

“And who are you?” My mother bristled. But her tone made it clear she didn’t care. She saw him as another mistake I was making.

“We’re the ones who found her.” Connor shifted to my other side.

“Found her where? Tied up?” Connor’s jaw flexed at my mother’s questions. I felt his body heat through my arm. It lent a quiet strength I craved, but couldn’t seem to latch onto. “Didn’t think so.”

“She was held against her will.” Maverick said from behind me. I didn’t know if it was intentional, but suddenly they were surrounding me. Protecting me.

Their warmth pressed in on me from every side. My jaw quivered as I suppressed the tears. I was finding more empathy in strangers than my own family.

Their stoic demeanor rubbed off on me. Calmed me. I focused on what was important, not the emotion swirling in my gut. “Mom, have you spoken to Craig or Aaron? I need to make sure they’re okay.”

I couldn’t go to the police. Simon said he had contacts there, but if I reached Craig and Aaron, I could convince them to leave for a while.

“They’re fine. I saw them last night.”

The tightness in my chest loosened. “I need to call them. Warn them. They might be involved in something bad.”

They didn’t know what kind of man Simon was. I needed to ensure they never worked with him again. Had to keep them safe. Or all of this was for nothing. All my pain would be wasted.

“Don’t fill their heads with your story.” She rolled her eyes in another dismissal. “Their business is doing well. You should take a page out of their book. If you’d stay more focused on your dream, maybe you won’t be relying on a guy to pay your way.”

Laughter burst through my chest, but there was nothing pleasant about the sound. I almost wanted to cry. Her narrative that I was the one who wanted to pursue piano felt so normal. As if the last few months never happened. Like impressing her was still my biggest problem.

But they had. And she didn’t care.

“Are you serious? I almost died.”

“Honey, it’s fine.” She waved her free hand in the air, brushing me off. “I won’t talk about your ex again. You don’t need to lie to cover up another failed relationship.”

That’s what they believed I was doing. That’s why they were being so cold and indifferent.

“But you do owe your mother an apology.” My father’s tone was stern as he gripped her hand tighter.

My lips parted in shock. My limbs froze. He wanted me to apologize for being kidnapped. This is what my parents thought of me? I was a liar. Dramatic. Someone who wanted attention. Who caused problems.

I couldn’t make my throat work. Couldn’t push out a protest. Any words to convince them of what had happened.

I’d been tortured. Raped. I’d suffered for them. For my brothers. So my captive wouldn’t hurt them. And they didn’t believe it. They didn’t care.

“Violet, pack your stuff.” Reid’s voice was coated in an authority I couldn’t reject. “We’re leaving.”

For a moment, I paused and stared at my parents. They shared a knowing glance. It was as if I was a toddler having a tantrum, and they thought the best way to handle it was to ignore me. There was no plea for me to stay. To forgive. Nothing.

I was nothing.

I moved like a zombie, walking through the kitchen, dining room, and back to the front door. Turning left, I went up the stairs.

Vaguely, I noticed Connor and Maverick following me. But it was like watching an old movie. The images around me were fuzzy. Grainy. The noises were distant.

I wondered what else I could’ve done to make them believe me. What I could’ve said. Should I have shown them the bruises? Gone to the hospital and had a doctor explain?

But having my agony denied was like a bullet to the heart. I didn’t want to convince them. I wanted them to trust me. See me.

As I opened the door to my childhood bedroom, I noticed the boxes. They were labeled ‘Violet’s apartment.’ My lease had obviously been terminated when my rent went unpaid. Still that hadn’t been enough for my parents to notice.

It was clear there was no way for me to make them care about me. To love me.

8

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