Page 102 of When Hearts Awaken

I shake my head and slump on to the seat, my body exhausted, my energy depleted.“Nobodybelieved me. My best friend and boyfriend both left me within forty-eight hours of the worst night of my life. He quit the academy the following month and cut off all ties with me. He never even apologized to me! Since then, I couldn’t dance Odette. I couldn’t be the beautiful white swan. I couldn’t let anyone close to me. I buried my anger and trauma into the deepest part of my heart. I was grossly violated, but I swore I’d protect myself in the future. I wouldn’t let my body or my heart be hurt again.”

The next words come out in a whisper. “I guess there was a silver lining—I didn’t get pregnant or catch any diseases. I never told my family, my other girlfriends, or even Lisa. Nobody else knows. I don’t want them to look at me differently, like I’m damaged. I don’t want them to feel sorry for me. I’m not the only woman this has ever happened to. Shit happens in the world and this just happens to be my pile of shit. I don’t want to be any different… I want the old Taylor Peyton to live on in their eyes.”

Slowly, I unlink my hand from his and fold my arms over my chest, my eyes still squeezed shut. “You once asked me what happened to me, if I hated myself, and I lashed out at you because,” a lump forms in my throat, “because you were too close to the truth. So now, you know everything. You’re the only person who knows all the ugly details. And to this day, those bastards are out there living their lives and I-I’m trapped.”

Pain tears my insides as I whisper the rest of the story, “I still hear their voices, the awful things they said to me. They mocked me, saying I must be enjoying my first cock since I was thrashing under them. They said no one would miss me. They called me little beauty. I didn’t want to be beautiful anymore. They called me Harriet. ‘Fly Harriet.’ For the longest time, I’d obsess over these phrases, trying to figure out what they mean, trying to make sense of why this happened to me. But it was useless. I realized there was no way to rationalize what these monsters did to me.”

I brace myself for judgment, for the same words of betrayal and cold revulsion I heard from Camden, the horror I saw in Alexis’s eyes, or the pity from the cops or the therapist. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, needing to brace for the inevitable.

But instead, I feel his large hands on my shoulders as he turns me toward him. His reassuring scent wraps around me like the sweetest embrace, and I want to cry. I want to melt into his arms, but I’m also afraid to open my eyes.

I’ve never felt so naked before, like a rose in the barren winter, all the beautiful petals gone, only the ugly thorns remaining.

Who would love me now?

Maybe that’s the secret I’ve been hiding all along. The biggest fear in my lovesick heart. The reason I haven’t let anyone close is because I won’t ever have to be disappointed when they don’t love me back.

Chapter 43

Her eyes are downcast,her cheeks wet with tears.

She won’t look at me.

For the first few seconds after she shared her trauma with me, I couldn’t think. I was filled with murderous rage at the monsters who did this to her, the men who fucking clipped her wings. I wanted to find them, hack them into tiny pieces until there’s nothing left of them.

But I forced myself to tamp down the violent urges because a stronger, much more powerful emotion coursed through my body.

Protectiveness—the need to make her feel better, to chase away the demons clouding her eyes.

Gently, I turn her toward me, my fingers shaking, my heart rioting inside my rib cage.

Swallow the rage, Charles. Feel the pain, which is only a fraction of her pain.

“Look at me,” I rasp, my voice sounding unused.

Taylor shakes her head, her tears falling onto her lap. They’re like bullets to my heart. I want to take them away—absorb all her agony and leave her unscathed.

I clasp her cheeks, my thumbs wiping the wetness as heartache spears into my chest. “Tay, you listen to me. It’s not your fault. I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you. You’re not broken. You…You’re fucking amazing. I’m not worthy to be in your presence. I—”

“You don’t need to say that to make me feel better,” she whispers, but she slowly lifts her head. The grief in her stormy gray eyes unmoors me.

Words aren’t enough. I don’t have the words to express everything inside me. Instead, I haul her to me and crush her in my embrace. I tighten my arms around her, needing to feel her warm body, her vitality, her strength.

I want her to know I don’t care about her past, I just want her future.

“You are a fighter. To have undergone everything you went through and still be standing before me, the most breathtaking woman I’ve ever seen… Trust me, Taylor. I beg you to believe me.”

Her lips wobble as she pulls back and stares at me and it’s then I notice she isn’t wearing her nose piercing, nor does she have her usual dark makeup on her face. She’s a mess of tears, her hair in disarray. But goddamn, she takes my breath away.

She’s the person I want to share my future with.

“You don’t think I’m damaged? So fucking messed up?” she whispers. “You don’t think I’m dirty?”

The anger packed deep at the base of my spine rears to life and I want to jump on a plane and find those bastards who hurt her and eliminate them from this planet.They did this to her. They violated her body and scarred her mind.

“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. I…I…Fuck!” I crush her in my embrace again, my words still jumbled in my brain. I feel useless, like nothing I do or say will ever make her feel better, because how can it? How can simple words take away a horror no one should ever experience?

“Ch-Charles,” Taylor sobs into my chest, her lithe frame shaking in my arms. My eyes well with tears as I’m hit with a helplessness I’ve never felt before in my life.