Page 109 of Ruined Vows

He got really mad then and started yelling at me about how I’d killed his hard-on.

“But I guess he wasn’t used to using condoms, so between that and the beer or whatever, he couldn’t keep it up.”

“So the fucker was drinking?” Isaak asks heatedly before swearing. “Shit. Don’t answer that. Did you catch a ride home after that?”

Suddenly, the tears I’ve been managing to choke back aren’t staying put anymore, and I let out a loud sob.

Seeing a highway exit, I take it, even though it means recklessly pulling in front of another car.

“Jesus fuck!” Isaak shouts, grabbing onto the car door.

But I don’t care about anything. I can barely see the windshield because of the tears suddenly flooding my eyes. As soon as I leave the exit ramp, my foot hits the brakes. It’s a nowhere exit. No lights or gas stations. I pull off to the side as soon as I see that there’s a wide-enough space for my Mini, bringing the car to a stop as I finally let the sobs free.

“Kira. Kira!”

I hear Isaak calling my name, but I’ve got my head buried in my arms across the steering wheel.

Because, oh god. Ohgod.

No.

No, I didn’t get an Uber home after that.

FORTY-TWO

ISAAK

I don’t knowwhat the fuck is happening. Kira barely makes it off the highway before pulling the car off the road and under a stubby tree before jamming it in park and absolutely losing her shit.

I yank the parking break to make sure we’re parked, then unhook Kira’s seatbelt. As gently as I can, I lift her out of the driver’s side seat and into my arms.

“Is this okay?” I ask. I’m pretty sure of her answer even before she nods against my neck because as soon as I’ve gotten her into my lap, she completely collapses on me and wraps her arms and legs as tightly around me as much as she can in the front seat. Like she’s a koala bear and I’m a tree.

I stroke my fingers through her hair. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper into her hair, tucking her as tightly against my chest as I can.

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s okay now. I’m so, so sorry.” I don’t even know what I’m apologizing for. For bringing any of this up. For whatever happened to her that night. For my murderous thoughts toward Drew, because seriously, the next time I see that guy, all I’m gonna want to do is stab my sharpest knife through his ball sack and twist until he bleeds out.

She pulls back, both her eyes and nose running, and both red. “I don’t even know why I’m crying. He just ended up shoving his fingers inside me. It’s not even a big deal.”

Every cell in my body goes ice cold. “He did what?”

“When he wasn’t hard enough to go in, he put a few fingers inside me instead.”

Afew? She hasn’t said so, but I’m assuming she was a virgin.

“Did you want him to?”

“We were past that part, I’d thought.”

“What part?”

“The putting it in stage.” Another hard sob. “I can’t remember if I told him I wanted to stop. I just thought it was obvious because I was crying so hard.”

She was crying, and that fucker still?—

“But he didn’t stop?” I ask through clenched teeth.

She shakes her head. “He just sort of fell back on top of me and shoved his fingers in.”

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