Page 41 of Pretty Lies & Ugly Truths

“You wanna tell me what happened?” he asks softly, taking a seat next to me on the bed.

No. Not really. I have never told anyone about what happened. I just buried it in the back of my mind where I never have to think about it. But I know that if I was going to talk about it to anyone, I could talk about it with Archer.

I’m quiet for a few minutes as I try to find my words. He doesn’t rush me; he just sits there waiting patiently.

“I just think…I would rather not be restrained. If that’s ok with you?”

“Of course that’s ok,” he says like it should beobvious. “Baby, I would never intentionally do anything you don’t want me to. Just say the words, and I will stop. Always.” I sag in relief, grateful for his understanding. “But before this can go any further, I need to know… Maggie, did someone hurt you?”

He tucks a stray lock behind my ear, softly stroking my cheek. I sit quietly, unsure how to answer. He must see something written on my face, because his eyes fall shut.

“The fact that you had to even think about that tells me more than I need to know.” His voice shakes with barely concealed rage.

“It wasn’t like that… Well, not really. I mean I didn’t say no,” I say, my voice coming out small. “I couldn’t. I was too out of it. I had too much to drink that night. But he didn’t actually hurt me—at least not more than it was supposed to I guess.”

His face softens as he takes my hand in his, stopping me from picking at my hangnails, a habit I haven’t done in years but seem to be doing too often these past few weeks.

“It was your first time?” he asks. When I nod, he looks away, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Christ,” he says, pulling me into his arms. “Baby, I am so damn sorry you had to go through that.” His thumbs swipe across my cheeks, wiping away tears I didn’t even know were there.

I think in the back of my mind, I always recognized it for what it was, but somehow, I had convinced myself that since I never said no, it wasn’t rape. I thought maybe it was my fault because I drank too much, that I allowed itto happen because I didn’t fight back, but I know that’s all bullshit.

If the same thing had happened to any one of my friends, I would be out for blood, and apparently Archer is too, because he says in a serious lethal tone, “Just say the word—tell me who, and I will make that piece of shit choke on his own fucking balls.”

I obviously have a sick, twisted sense of humor because the mental image my mind conjures of Josh with his balls down his throat makes me bark out a laugh.

“No, but—thank you.”

“Now, you busted in on me because you had something to say, so let’s hear it,” he says, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth before leaning back.

That moment feels so long ago, I have to wrack my brain to remember.What did I come in here for?Oh right.

“Oh… I was wondering about what’s gonna happen Friday…after I go home.”

“I told you I would make sure you’re safe. So, if you’re worried…”

“No,” I say cutting him off, “Not that. I’m not worried about that. I trust you to keep me safe.” Something flashes in his eyes before he takes on a tortured expression, and I’m already mentally preparing myself for the rejection I know is coming, but I push through, needing to hear him say it.

“I meant what’s going to happen with us? Despite the circumstances, I have enjoyed being with you. I guess what I’m trying to say is that…I’m not ready for whatever this is between us to be over.”

He doesn’t speak for so long, I can only assume he’s looking for a way to let me down easy, to soften the blow. So, when instead he hauls me onto his lap, I let out a squeal of surprise.

“Come here,” he says before wrapping his strong arms around me in a crushing hug.

“I don’t know if I’m capable of what you’re asking for. I’ve done things…” He trails off, tightening his hold as he continues to speak low into my ear. “Let’s just say—I’m not a very good person. And some of the things I have done, there’s no coming back from. You are entirely too good for me, and if I was a better man, a stronger man, I would let you go right now.”

“No—that’s not true…” I argue, trying to pull away, but he doesn’t break his hold.

“Ishouldlet you go. Trust me, you’d be better off.” My heart breaks for this man, who is so full of self-loathing that he can’t see his own worth. “I should let you go,” he says voice cracking, “but the truth is, I don't think I can.”

I push against his chest, and he finally loosens his arms. I turn in his lap to straddle his hips, holding his face between my palms, the same way he has held mine so many times.

“I can’t speak to the things you’ve done, but trust me when I say, you have done more for me in these past few days than anyone elseeverhas. You make me feel beautiful, cherished, like I’m worthy of being loved. It’s because of you that I’ve been able to take my first full breath of air without feeling like I am drowning. You are a good man, Archer. At least, you are to me.”

Before I can even finish speaking, his lips are crashing down on mine, taking my mouth in a clash of teeth and tongue. His hand comes up to gently wrap around my throat in a possessive hold.

“Is this ok?” he breathes against my mouth.

---