Page 87 of Still Beating

She asks the question so casually—so nonchalant.

But it thunders through me like a typhoon, wreaking havoc on all of my fragile insides. My skin tingles, my hands clam up, my legs start to wobble in place. I latch onto the edge of the countertop to keep myself steady as I hold my breath. I hold it for a long time, afraid that my oxygen alone will spill out all of my secrets. I hold it until I feel dizzy and sick and lightheaded, and then I let it out like a harrowing confession. “I-I don’t want to talk about it, okay? It’s personal and traumatic, and I’m trying to forget those three weeks ever even happened…” I bite down on my lip to stop the words from flowing.

Mandy’s eyes narrow as she chugs down the rest of her wine. Then she slams the glass down on the counter, making me wince. “Something happened down there, Cora. I need to know.”

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“Tell me.”

“I can’t!” The tears start spilling, my voice catching and breaking. “I can’t.”

Mandy is about to bite back when my cell phone vibrates between us on the island, resting only a foot away. We both look at it.

Dean’s name lights up the screen with a text message.

I glance at Mandy. She glances at me.

Then we both lunge for the phone at the same time, with Mandy coming out victorious. I practically scream in defiance. “No!” I race around the island to where Mandy is reading the message with her back turned to me. I wait for her to face me, my shoulders heaving, beyond horrified and nauseated by what she may be discovering right now.

Mandy lets out a gasp that sounds an awful lot like betrayal. She whips around, her eyes watering, gleaming with rage. “Youbitch.”

I rip the phone away from her, my hands shaking as I skim over the message in a panic.

Don’t want to fight. Scared. I get it. Last night was everything. Slower. Start over. In this together.

Last night was everything.

“What happened last night, Cora?” Mandy demands, her tears erupting like rainfall. “Did you sleep with him?” Her voice changes in pitch, sounding more desperate and shrill with each word. “Did you fuck my fiancé?”

“I…”

“Tell me!”

I shake my head, a cry breaking through my lips.

“I want to hear it from your lying, filthy mouth.”

I’ve never seen Mandy so upset. I’ve never seen her radiating blindhatelike this. I feel like I’m going to throw up or keel over and die from abject humiliation and all-consumingguilt. “We… we were forced to have sex in that basement.”

Mandy pales, her eyebrows creasing. “What?”

My chest expands, up and down, hard and fast. “Earl put a gun to Dean’s head and made him do it. We didn’t have a choice. We…” I dig my fingers into my scalp and tug my hair back. “It was awful and sick and beyond depraved, but…”

“But… ?” Mandy sounds horrified. Appalled.

As she should.

“But something happened, okay? Something changed between us, and I can’t explain it. I thought the feelings would go away when we returned to our normal lives, but the connection is still there. We can’t shake it. I never wanted this to happen, Mandy…” I continue to crack and break and splinter, my entire body shutting down. “I never wantedanyof this!”

Mandy’s eyes assess me with a quiet rage. Her chest is beat red, the heat climbing up her neck and staining her cheeks and ears. “Did you have sex last night?”

I pull my lips between my teeth to keep them from quivering. Then I lower my chin, unable to look her in the eyes as I whisper, “Yes.”

Only a heartbeat passes when her hand flies out and connects with my face. I inhale a sharp, startled breath, the sting of her slap rattling my bones.

Mandy has never hit me before. I’ve never hit her.

We’ve argued and bickered and not spoken for weeks, but… this is different.

---