Page 80 of Beg Me Angel

I wonder if Mom kept mine?

“Vera?” The voice caught me off guard, causing my body to jerk in surprise.

Twisting around, Sara was standing on the step, her eyes already teary and glossing over. I stood silent, not speaking, not even sure how to begin or what to say.

On the outside she looked the same. Her hair was still a deep burgundy with bleached tips, her makeup bold and bright just as she always had it.

But there was one difference, her eyes. They seemed dulled, clouded in depression and sadness. Tilting my head, I thinned my lips, forcing a tight smile. I was doing my best to not just burst into tears right there, before one word was uttered, before a single sound was made.

Sara let the storm door close on its own, her arms hung by her sides, hands open and fingers splayed wide. “I—I. . .” She sniffled, snapping her hand to her face and wiping away the tears. “I—”

Swallowing hard, I took in a deep breath as my eyes welled up instantly, sending a wave of tears cascading down my cheeks. On impulse I stepped forward, wrapping my arms around her neck and hugging her tight.

Her arms clung firmly to my back, her fingers curling up and holding my shoulders. And as we stood there crying, sobbing on each others shoulders, I knew instantly. . .

Our friendship had changed, it had altered in a way that most people would never understand. Through that, we were forever bound, fused together by one night.

It wasn't just me, it wasn't just her. . . It was both of us.

Her voice was weak, tumbling out through quick breaths. “I'm so sorry, Vera, I'm so sorry.”

Pulling away, I held her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Why would you say that?”

Wiping her face with her hand, she ran her wrist under her nose as her lip trembled. “Because it's my fault, all of it was my fault.”

“You didn't do anything wrong, Sara, you can't blame yourself for any of it.”

Throwing herself back, her arms flew up in the air, slamming back down against her thighs. “But it is my fault. I drove us out there, I convinced you to get in the car with those guys, I told you to drink that shit. . .” Pausing, Sara curled her arms under her ribs and hugged herself. “None of it would have happened if I hadn't done those things.”

Gripping her shoulders, I turned her to face me, spinning her on her feet and making her wobble. “Don't you dare, don't you ever blame yourself for this. You couldn't have known what was going to happen, neither of us could. None if it was your fault.”

Sara stared at the ground, nodding her head. She was listening, but she wasn't feeling what I was saying. Her eyes continued to cry, the water rolled out drop after drop, dripping off her cheeks and landing on the cement step, melting through the snow that had blown up from the wind.

“Sara, look at me.” Slowly lifting her head, her lids lowered as her chest jerked to take in air. “You are not responsible for this, you're a victim too, we both went through the same thing.”

Shaking her head, her hair fell in her face, sticking to the wetness on her cheeks. “No, we didn't. I was found a couple days after, I wasn't hurt, I got away.” Her breathing picked up as she tried to stop herself from crying. It wasn't working, her eyes kept shedding an endless onslaught of tears. “But you suffered, you went through far more than I did.”

“None of that matters, Sara, none of it.” Slicing my hand through the air, I slammed it against my chest. “I'm here now, I'm here and I'm okay—we're okay,that's all that matters.”

I was angry that she would put any of this on herself. She wasn't responsible for the actions of another, she had no way of knowing what was going to happen. I didn't like how mad I felt that she was putting this burden on herself.

Being angry wouldn't erase the way she felt, it wouldn't stop her from wallowing in a self-induced hatred for the actions she thought she brought on.

Wrapping my fingers around her forearms, I wiggled her playfully. “Sara, look at me, I'm fine, I really am. Please don't blame yourself for this, because I don't. You didn't do anything wrong.”

Not one ounce of blame fell on her shoulders, not once did I think she was at fault for any of it. Sara and I had gone through the same thing, we had experienced the same hurt and pain. We just felt it in different ways.

I was afraid for her, not knowing what had happened to her was sickening. It drove me insane, forcing my mind to inflict the worst images possible. I hated it.

But once my memories came back, the detective let me read her statement. Sara had escaped, she had been able to hide and get away. For two days she trudged through the woods, in the darkness, alone and lost.

She was finally picked up by a little old lady; dirty, confused, struggling to remember what happened to her. She was trapped in the same nightmare I was, her thoughts trickling in like a slow drip. She remembered the driver and what he looked liked, but even that was still a question for her.

After they found me, she went to the station for a lineup and I still didn't even blame her for picking Pax. Her mind was fucked from what happened, weeks had passed before she even had an opportunity to put a face to her blurred memories. Pax and Glenn, for as different as they were, had similar features.

I could never compare Pax to the asshole that did this shit to us, but she went with what she remembered, and he fit the profile. They both had shaved heads, they both had tattoos and facial hair. Honestly, I couldn't even say for certain that if we had switched places, I wouldn't have ended up doing the same thing.

A small smile tugged on her lip as her eyes nervously darted around my face. “Thank you, Vera.”

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