Page 112 of Under the Ink

Raising his eyebrows, he said, “Asshole?That’s really Christian of you.”

“I’m not claiming to be one.”

“Well, you were back then. And maybe you don’t remember all those months we talked about getting married once we were both out of school.”

“Of course, I remember.”

“And how we justified having sex—because we’d be married in the eyes of God. Like Old Testament. Technically, we’ve been married ever since that moment.”

“We’renot. Because I never consented.”

“Youdid. You just didn’t know it.”

It didn’t matter what Jacobsaid. Naomi now knew the full truth—shehadbeen assaulted.Raped.And everyone she’d turned to afterward had simply made things worse. So all that shit had nowhere to go but deep inside…to a place where it didn’t fit, where it had never belonged. Naomi had spent all those years trying to get it out with thousands of little cuts, letting a little pain inside escape every time.

Somehow, knowing the truth felt like a salve on all those old wounds.

“I didnot. And I wonder how church members and voters would feel knowing the truth.”

A tiny glimmer of fear appeared in his expression, quickly hidden under a smirk. That smirk used to make her toes curl when she was an innocent girl—and now she wanted to slap it off his face. He said, “Go ahead. Try it. You think they’d believe you? The slutty freaky girl covered in the devil’s artwork? Yeah, you try.”

She searched his eyes, finding herself at a loss for words.

Because she knew he was right. The church—even Winchester itself—was full of Mrs. Rodenbecks, judgmental people ready to blame the world’s ills on anyone they could point their finger at.

But she had one last jab. “Maybe I’ll just tell your father.”

Tilting his head, he brought it close to her face, and she froze, her body poised to defend itself if it came to that.

But he’d be stupid to hurt her here in a public place.

“What makes you think I didn’t already confess all my sins to him?” But the man didn’t sound repentant, not by a long shot.

“I think you need to confess your sins to God…becauseheknows what you did.” Turning, she started walking toward the doorway to the ballroom, the shoes Ginny had chosen for the bridal party beginning to make the back of her heels hurt—but she would stand tall, proud, and confident until she was out of this man’s sight. “You can’t hurt me anymore, Jacob.”

For just a second, she considered saying something sarcastic about praying for him, but she didn’t want to. Because for the first time in the longest time, part of her felt light.

Felt free.

And her mind shifted from this person who didn’t matter to her, not at all anymore—to the person who did.

To the man who’d treated her like a precious jewel, like something sacred. Who’d seen her for who she really was and loved her just the same.

To the man she realized she loved back…and yet she’d hurt him with her cruel words.

As she re-entered the ballroom, she realized Jacob was sayingsomethingto her…but she couldn’t hear him. In her mind, she was already somewhere else.

And she knew she needed to make things right with the guy who really mattered.

WINCHESTER, COLORADO

SEPTEMBER 12, SOMETIME AFTER 9:00 PM

“Ginny, what kind of jerk—”

“Nonsense.”

Walker said, “Whatever my wife wants, she gets. So get in.”

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