Page 81 of Pretty Broken Things

How about the fact that none of you know a goddamn thing about me? I don’t say that though. Instead I say, “I don’t think anything I say will convince you to trust me.” Just saying those words exhausts me to the depths of my soul. Is this what it feels like to give up? I’m so tired of always struggling.

“I’ve done a lot of shitty things lately, and the reasons why don’t matter.”

“They matter to me,” Ford says as he enters the room.

I should have been prepared to see him, but it still sends a jolt through my middle.

“I understand,” Raven interjects. “I didn’t have friends when Kyle came for me the first time, so I was already isolated. I’m willing to bet you were up for auction too.”

Was up for auction? Shit, he sold me on a daily basis.

“Is that what this is?” Lucien gets in my face. “Trying to save your own ass?”

If only he knew how wrong that is. If I wanted to save my own ass I’d be a thousand miles away. Not that my staying here was entirely altruistic. My plan was, and still is to an extent to see Jesse and Poppy dead. It just so happens that my goals and their needs coincide.

“Does it matter? Is she less worthy because she was in danger too?” I am starting to see why everyone loves Raven. I think I like and hate her at the same time. I wonder which emotion is going to come out on top.

Ford glares at me from across the room, and their conversation fades to a buzzing sound in my head. Ever since Jesse took me, I’ve been able to shrink inside myself to escape my reality. I’m not sure if it kept me sane, and I don’t know if I’m happy that it kept me alive.

Bits of the conversation around me start to filter in my consciousness. They’re planning an ambush, but they’re overlooking the most obvious solution. I’m not sure what possesses me to raise my hand, but here I am offering help to people who would sooner believe I was the bride of Satan than that I am trying to help.

“I’ve got an idea. We use his plan against him. He wants Raven, right?”

“Absolutely not,” Sin says automatically.

“Let her talk,” Raven demands.

I’m teetering toward liking her. She’s got a spine. I can appreciate that.

“He’s arrogant. If I tell him I can get him access to Raven, he’ll believe me.” Or he’ll kill me, but I’m a bit too numb to really care.

“How do we know you aren’t playing us? Is this your plan, Tessa? Gain our trust, then turn on us?” Ford asks me.

Pain spreads through my chest.Enough, I tell myself. Why can’t I shove him out of my heart? It’s clear whatever he once felt for me is dead. No matter what I do or don’t do, he’s convinced himself I’m the bad guy in our story. I’m done trying to atone for something that happened over two years ago. Something done out of love. I can see I hurt him deeply, but if he ever really loved me he wouldn’t have set out to destroy me the way he has.

“I’ll get him there, you plan it. I’m not asking you to trust me.” I’ll never ask him for a damn thing again. “You shouldn’t. I haven’t earned it, but I want to help.” I guess nothing I’ve done has made up for what I did at eighteen. And, now I know there’s nothing I can do in his eyes.

* * *

The guys circlearound each other to discuss battle strategy. It sounds violent and dangerous to me, but three of the five are experienced killers. I suppose it makes sense to leave the plans of bloodshed to them.

Raven keeps looking at me like she wants to ask something. I raise an eyebrow in a silent encouragement to speak her mind.

She looks back at the guys, and leans forward to whisper. “The guys aren’t paying attention to us, so tell me honestly, why are you helping me?”

At least she seems to be giving me the benefit of the doubt. I’m still conflicted with how I feel about her.

“You want honesty?” I ask her. No one else around here seems to believe me when I speak the truth.

“It’s what I asked for,” she replies.

“No, I don’t like you, but I imagine you feel the same way about me for the same reasons. I know I hooked up with Sin, but that doesn’t mean I liked seeing you with Ford. So, yeah, I hate you. I’ve loved him for practically my entire life, but I’m not good for him.” Every time I’m around the guy I first met, the one who gave people a chance, disappears. I bring out the worst in him, and the sooner I’m gone, the better off he’ll be.

“Is that what you’re doing now? Trying to be good enough for him?” It’s the first thing Jen has said to me since the cabin.

“This is me trying to be good enough for myself.” They said they wanted the truth. Even if I tell them, they might not believe me, which oddly makes it easier to share this secret. “Do you know what it’s like to look at yourself in the mirror every day and hate what you see?”

“I can’t say that I do,” Jen murmurs.

---