Page 87 of Moth to a Flame

The moment I found out about what happened to her, was the moment his fate was sealed.

Fire and brimstone are coming for him.

His pain and humiliation after Bobby’s attack were nothing. My revenge on her rapist has only just begun.

She’ll see it, too. I’ve been saving the photo for tomorrow, for when I’ll ask her to move in with me. An early engagement gift.

This takes precedence over everything.

She has to let it out for her sake. She won’t deal with this shit alone anymore. She won’t ever have to.

“I.” I kiss her tears off one temple. One cheek. “Love.” I repeat the motions on the other side. “You.”

I’m back to looking at her, our faces mere inches apart. Anger ripples from every cell in my body, and it’s killing me to keep it inside.

“You’ll be so disappointed.” Her voice is shaking, and I hate it. I hate the way her lips quiver harder. “You will.”

“Never.” The word comes out as harsh as I intended it to. “Fucking never. You were raped. You were tortured. You were fifteen, for fuck’s sake. None of this was your fault. Nothing, nothing you can say will ever disappoint me.”

She blinks furiously. Narrows her eyes. Works hard to believe me while tears run down her cheeks.

“Please, Regan.” Never in my life have I begged. Not even to God. I’m begging her. “Talk to me. Let me do what I was born to do. Protect you. Love you. Help you. Goddamn it, let me.”

“The night he came after me…” A sob catches in her throat. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip. I keep rubbing circles over her temples with my thumbs. “I took a shortcut home through Central Park. It was dark and late. I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have gone through there that late.”

“Stop that.” I rip her lip away from her, sinking mine into it. The pain makes her eyes focus on me again. “You have every right to walk wherever the fuck you want. This city is your home. You weren’t asking for this. Tell me you understand.”

“I understand, but…”

I’m sure she was told the same words over the years. It’s obvious her family loves her. She went to see a therapist and they for fucking sure told her that as well.

Doesn’t matter. I’ll repeat it to her until the day I die.

“No buts.” I only reach back to throw a cover over us, then I’m stroking and holding her face again. “Tell me you understand.”

Deep inhale. “I do.”

“Go on.”

“He showed up out of nowhere. There was no one else on that trail. No one else around us. My phone was in my pocket, and I was too numb to get it out.” She sees I’m about to give her another lecture about misplaced blame, so she rushes to add, “It wasn’t my fault. I’m just telling you I couldn’t. I couldn’t move, either.”

“His fault.” I have to repeat it anyway. “It was this motherfucker’s fault.”

“He looked disturbed. Like he wasn’t in control of himself. Asked about my age. He hoped I’d be younger. I thought that maybe if I told him my name, he’d see me as a person. When that didn’t work and he dragged me behind the bushes, I told him I was fifteen. I hoped that maybe when he found out I was older than what he’d expected, then he’d let me go. He groaned then said,a minor is a minor,and he…”

Though she’s silent for a long time, the room isn’t quiet. My teeth gnash loudly. Growl after growl erupt from my throat. Watching her relive that horrible night makes my lungs burn. I regret so fucking hard that I let Bobby cut Lester’s dick off.

It should’ve been me there.

And it wasn’t.

“First, he raped me with his p-p-penis.” Her eyebrows scrunch, her chin wobbling. Tears cascade down her cheek and temples in a steady stream.

I grip her tighter, hurting her with how hard I hold her. How close I press her to me. She needs me to do it. To remind her I’m here, that she isn’t there.

I need it just the same. Otherwise, I’ll leave her alone with her tears and heartache while I go burning down Central Park until there’s nothing left.

“When he was done…” Her hands drop from the sides of my neck, but I force them back right where they were. “When he was done, he put his—his—”

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