Page 114 of The Catalyst

My stomach drops as she wraps her arms around her midsection, trying to block out the view of her skin covered in those marks. Some are faded and some are brand new.

“Who did this to you?” The worst-case scenario runs through my mind, and I feel like I’m going to be sick. I was right to stop Nigel from coming in here. I don’t know what he would do if he saw her like this.

“My mother’s boyfriend,” she confesses as she falls down the wall, sitting on her ass. Aimee pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her cheeks there, calming down her breathing. Her mountain of black hair falls over her shoulders like a waterfall, forever unaffected by anything happening. It looks like it's freshly styled, even with how much she has been crying, probably since she left the party.

“Was it…just once?” I question, hoping not to upset her.

She slowly shakes her head. “Since I was fourteen–a year after my mom made me leave with her. She wanted to bring my brother with us, but…the new man in her life saidno boys.” A sob falls from her lips as she lifts her head. “He’s a monster. It was bad enough that he was hurting me, but he was hurting my mom, too. She’s gotten pregnant five times since he took us. At four months along, she found out it was a boy two different times. Each time, he sent my mom to California to see this awful doctor who would do what he called a late-term abortion. She said they came out alive. Small, but moving. They didn’t deserve that, and neither did my mom. She didn’t want to do that, and hemadeher. I couldn’t take it anymore. I had to leave, even if she wouldn’t. I’d rather die than go back there.” She shakes her head vigorously with the same rage across her face I’ve seen on Nigel’s from time to time. She really means it. She would rather die than go back. That alone should say how horrible it was for her, and I can’t say it's unimaginable. What she described sounds like hell, just from what her mother has been going through.

“Aimee?” I whisper as I try to hold back from crying. “Was he just being physically abusive toward you, or was he also…” I trail off because I can’t get the word out.

It’s at this point I realize how sheltered I have been my entire life. Until now, I’ve been too young-minded to even conceive of a man doing such a horrible thing to his fourteen-year-old step-daughter.

“Raping me?” she finishes for me before huffing, rolling her eyes. “I’ve only ever consented to one man, and it sure as fuck wasn’t him.”

* * *

It took some time,but I managed to convince Aimee to transfer from the hotel to my house. She got the room under her name, and if her stepfather comes looking for her like she thinks he will, she’ll be a sitting duck here. At least, at my house, she’ll only be a few streets from Mason Road, and I can get one of the guys to guard the house, but I doubt the nameless piece of shit will be able to track her there.

I covered my tracks pretty well when I ran and Nigel still found me.

As soon as she is out of the hotel room–fully clothed again–Nigel wraps his arms around her and holds her like he never thought he would get the chance. Aimee cries even harder than she did when she told me her horror story in detail, but these tears are full of joy and elation.

It’s hard to watch and even harder to look away. I know things about Aimee and her experience that Nigel doesn’t. That makes this difficult to manage because he doesn’t know how fragile and abused she is. He doesn’t know how broken she has become. She might not stay broken, but that doesn’t change the way she will feel until she gets to that point.

Just as they pull away my phone vibrates in my pocket. I hurry to pull it out and see a string of texts from Teigan. I completely forgot that she, her sister, and her boyfriend–a football player named Malakai–were coming for a visit. They aren’t just in the area to see me but also visit with her family back in Hempstead. Her hotel is nearby, though. Grove Hill was the closest place they could get a decent hotel. That meant we could hang out, and she could meet Nigel, but this is shitty timing.

They just got here and are ready for dinner, which Nigel and I are supposed to be attending with them…tomorrow night.

“Damnit,” I curse, and Nigel releases Aimee, turning to me with a quizzical gaze.

“What is it?”

I groan. “Teigan, Delaney, and Malakai happened. Their plane arrived early.”

Granted, their flight wasn’t supposed to arrive until about five in the morning, but Teigan didn’t want to deal with an overnight flight and being jet lagged, so she found an earlier flight and didn’t tell me before they departed. Classic Teigan Harper.

And I still have to escort Aimee to my house and help her settle in. I’m too tired for this shit.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Nigel groans.

I text Teigan before turning to Aimee, who seems uncertain, but seeing how frail she is, I make my decision. “You hungry, Aimee?” I ask.

Her eyes widen, and her gaze dashes between me and Nigel before her shoulders relax, and she nods. “Fucking starving.”

March 6, 1815

Five days. It’s been five days since we left Aodh’s ranch, and he sent us off with a farewell and enough food to last us a few days, but the elements are draining, especially for the children. Aileen hasn’t fully recovered her strength from our son’s birth, and Tadhg has been unwell. We grew used to sitting around. I knew our journey would be difficult, but I did not foresee how hard it would be for all involved. Our rations are dwindling, and there’s no sign of animals for us to hunt or berries to pick. Ice coats the ground, and I fear our children will not make it to our final destination.

God help us,

Séamus O’Reilly

CHAPTER 43

NIGEL

Ilean against my truck as I smoke my cigarette. I needed some fucking air desperately. Teigan and Delaney Harper were fine. They’re nothing special, but they mean a lot to Beth, so I’ve put in the effort. Aimee seems to like them, too, but they aren’t where my issues lie.

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