Page 83 of Getting It Twisted

My scoff comes out as more of a sob. “Fuck, you’re clueless sometimes. He made me suck his dick, okay?”

“Oh god . . .”

“Yeah, that’s right. The world isn’t just sunshine and rainbows. But of course, I already knew that when I knelt with my hands cuffed behind my back, getting ready to suck your uncle’s—”

“Stop.” His hands tighten on me, his breathing rough and fast. “I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill all of them.”

“You get it now? You get how fucked up I am?”

“It’s not you, Nate. It’sthem. They’re the ones who did this to you. You were just a kid. You’re not the one to blame; they are.”

Goddamn it. My eyes burn, and stinging tears trickle out when I blink.

“Come here.” Daniel opens his arms, and I fall into his embrace. “I’ve got you.”

I cry into his shoulder, clutching onto him like a lifeline. “I’m sorry,” I choke out, my whole body racking with a sob. “I’m sorry for leaving you. Sorry for the shit I said. Sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not.”

“This kind of makes up for it.”

Me crying in his arms like a blubbering mess makes up for five years of heartbreak and sorrow? That makes zero fucking sense, but okay.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat and hug him closer. It’s all I can say, and it’s all I can do, as he strokes the back of my head and clutches me with all the strength in him, everything he means to me, and the forgiveness I thought I would never deserve.

I draw in a breath and let it out with a slump of my shoulders. “I’m tired.”

“Me too. Come, I’ll take you home.”

Home.I wince at the image that floats into my head. Compared to the safety of Daniel’s arms, the house at Wayward Road feels like something out of a horror movie. I knew from the start it wasn’t good for me to live there, but I didn’t care. I craved it. I wanted that horror—those memories—to sink into my chest and slice me open. But now . . .

“I don’t want to go back there,” I say, rubbing my cheek into Daniel’s chest.

“I know. You don’t have to.”

“I do though. I don’t have anywhere else to go.” I sniffle around a final, chest-heaving sob.

“We’ll go to my place.”

“What about George? He hates me. He’ll beat the shit out of me.”

“He won’t. We’ll spend the night there, at least. After that, we’ll figure things out.”

Figure things out.He makes it sound so easy, but nothing’s ever easy with me—surely he must know that by now?

“B-Because . . .” The words get stuck in my throat. I’ve never felt more pathetic than this, but Daniel doesn’t seem to mind. I told him once that he likes my bite, but maybe he likes this side of me better. That would serve me right, wouldn’t it? All this time, I’ve kept these emotions walled off, but all it took was a couple of weeks in his presence for what’s been trapped in me for so long to come bursting out. It hurts, but there’s relief init too. Thousands of miles and countless hookups and orgasms couldn’t do what Daniel just did. “Because you . . .”

“Yeah, that’s right—because I love you.” He wipes my cheeks with his thumbs and smiles, despite my sobs. Because he knows my tears are not solely from pain. Heknowsme, like nobody else does. He’s seen me at my darkest moments, and even after everything we’ve been through—even after all my fuckups and mistakes—he’s still here.

He came for me. He loves me.

And when his hand reaches for mine, I take it.

Heat spreads from the arm wrapped around my waist and sunlight shines into my eyes. I turn around, and instead I face a different kind of light.

Daniel’s sleep-tousled hair spreads over the pillow. His freckles and golden eyelashes seem to shimmer in the sunlight. Eyes closed softly in sleep, with the slightest wrinkle between his brows . . . He’s so beautiful.

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