Page 19 of Saving Shepperd

“Where do you think you’re going?” he teased.

“I want to see them. I assumed you’d fish your phone out and show me.”

“In a second. I want to tell you the rest, and I’m enjoying holding you like this too much to move.” His voice turned low and serious on that last part. By the way it suddenly became hard to swallow or even take a full breath, it was like he was staring directly into my soul.

Oooh, serious Law was even sexier than playful Law. While I usually avoided intense conversation at almost any cost, this one was worth engaging in. Not sure how I felt so confident about that, but my gut was rarely wrong.

He went through the sad details of Stella’s abuse, and I listened as open-mindedly as I could. Oftentimes, when I shared even a hint of my history with someone, they did exactly what Law was doing. By sharing their own experiences, people assumed we instantly had some sort of connection or bond, and they were automatically qualified as a person I could trust and open up to. Not always the case. Also, if I told a person about my past, which I rarely did, the best thing they could do was listen and be compassionate. But for some reason, this seemed to be the go-to response.

Hearing about another victim suffering out in the world didn’t make me feel united with them. It made me angry. Angry that another person was robbed of joy and innocence by a predator.

Because I knew how that felt. Once something like that happened, you never really got over it. Every person looked suspicious or threatening, every situation looked like a trap.

Law’s intentions were pure, though. Based on what I knew about the guy so far, in his heart, he told me this information for the right reasons. He wasn’t trying to take over the conversation or shift the focus to him, or Stella. He was just trying to bond with me through a painful experience.

Normally, I would’ve ended this type of conversation after the first few lines, but I saw the amount of love he had for this child. Instead of feeling frustrated like I normally did, I wanted to comfort him in return. I wanted to give him the reaction I wished for on the rare occasion I shared my pain with someone.

Sitting up taller on his lap, I wrapped both arms around his neck and pressed my body into his. I squeezed him close to me, and we breathed together for a long moment.

Finally, I pulled back. “I’m sorry you and your family know what that kind of pain and betrayal feels like. It breaks my heart every time I hear about another person being taken advantage of by someone who should have loved them or cared for them.”

“You’re so brave,” he said into my hair. I had to consciously hold in my scoff. “I can feel the way your body just tensed in my arms that you want to refute that.”

Wow.The man saw things most people completely missed. Or if they did see my reaction to their comments, they ignored them and plowed ahead with their own agendas.

A soft smile played at my lips instead. “You’re very observant.”

“I can be. When something matters, or rather,someonematters. I want to learn all I can about that person.” He paused for a moment, and I could only guess he was trying to come up with a tactful way to ask something. That assumption was confirmed when he finally spoke again.

“I think you’re brave because you’ve been dealing with the trauma alone. And you go out in public every day, face the world, strangers…hell, maybe even the bastard who hurt you, and you haven’t told anyone what happened.” He maneuvered his body so we were looking directly into each other’s eyes again. “That’s incredibly brave, Shepperd.”

Before he even finished, I was shaking my head. He had it all so backwards. How could he not see that?

“I’m not brave, Law. I’m a coward. Instead of dealing with what happened, I bolt. I’ve been running for so long, I’m out of places to hide.”

“You don’t have to hide from me. And whenever you want to hide from the rest of the world, run to me. Okay?” He held my gaze until I dipped my chin in agreement.

“Do you see the guy still?” he finally asked quietly.

“No, it’s been years,” I said, always careful with the amount of information I released.

“An old neighbor? Distant relative?” he fired one after the other.

Why did he need to know? It’s not like it would change anything.

“No. No one like that.”

He just stared at me, seeming to encourage me to tell him without asking again.

And for some reason, I wanted to tell him. Maybe it would feel good to let the secret out. It’s not like he’d go down to my old school and find the guy. It was my understanding he’d died years ago.

“It was a janitor at my school. I think he molested my oldest sister, too,” I blurted and waited for the earth to open up and swallow me. For so long I was terrified to say the words out loud. Convinced something tragic would happen when I released my truth. Now that I had, and literally nothing changed, I was incensed. There was no monumental sense of relief, just stifling heavy air between us. I tried to bolt, and damn the guy for already having my number. He wrapped his arms around my waist a little tighter and just stared.

“What?” I bit, pissed that he wouldn’t let me stand.

His voice was gentle and soothing when he said, “Calm down, darling. I’m right here. Nothing’s changed. I’m still right here.”

I tried to stand again, and that time, he released his hold on me. I shot to my feet, stumbling from the extra force I used. Law was on his feet in a second steadying me with large, confident hands on my hips.

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