Page 288 of As the Rain Falls
Always.
I bury my face in his chest, and we stay like this for minutes, gripping each other like we’re holding onto lifelines. Inhaling each other’s scent. Existing.
Then, I tell him everything.
Every bad thought I’ve ever had, every time I secretly hated Nathaniel and tried to forget about it. I tell him about the memories I’m not certain of too, and he listens without questioning any of it. I give him my best theories about what happened, even if I’m not sure if he’s following any of them.
I tell him about my parents, how they drain our savings to keep Nathaniel around because he can’t keep a job. How I want to tell Kayla sometimes, but I’m convinced it will eventually ruin our friendship. I’ll never be the same girl in her eyes again.
I tell him about the boys.
Allseven of them.
How I found them, how I made it happen.
With Dimitri, it was supposed to be nothing. I’d gone to the bathroom at school, but he followed after me, telling me I should pull my panties down if I wanted to be left alone.
I tell him how I don’t remember much of it, mostly because it barely lasted five minutes, and I only know this much because I counted the seconds in my head.
I watch Beckett start to shake with fury because that’s what happens when you care about someone and they’ve been hurt. Anger is what you feel, not dismissal, no matter how confusing every bit of the story is.
“Caleb talked me into it, but I still said yes. He has so many pictures of me, but I guess that’s besides the point now that everybody has seen me naked, anyway,” I trail off. “The others, I looked for them. I thought…”
The voices in my head turn violent. I try so hard to keep them from making me scared of telling him the truth. This time, it works.
“I think I wanted to know if what Nathaniel said was true. If I was truly as washed up as he claimed I was.”
“This is horrible,” Beckett chokes on his words, gripping my hair, his nose pressed against my temple. “He’s a sick fucker for ever even laying a finger on you, Cassandra. This is never going to be your fault. Not even in a million years.”
I wish I could believe him.
I know he means it, but I just can’t.
I don’t know what to believe anymore.
My words feel like they don’t hold any weight after I’ve spoken them because I don’t have any wounds to show besides the ones I keep locked in my head.
“We have to go to the police,” Beckett pleads.
“But…” My voice wavers. “You promised.”
“We have to,” he insists, desperate. “Please, let me help you.”
“Help me with what?” I ask, my heart shattering. “My good word and my parents’ accusation that I’m a liar? My reputation as the town’s newest slut? Caleb’s testimony against me?”
I’ve ruined all of my chances at getting justice. There’s nothing left to prove what happened. Not the clothes, and not the sheets. My mother probably washed those.
And should I even care about telling my story? Exposing myself all over again to this town’s vitriol just for the sake of finding justice?
What happens when I do? When I have to sit at the police station and retell the same story a thousand times?
Or when we go to court and the lawyer my parents hired tries to poke at inconsistencies because my memory has gotten shitty over the years?
“Cassandra, this isn’t right. I swear I’m on your side, okay? I would fight anyone who didn’t believe you.” His jaw clenches. “I’d fucking kill them for you.”
I wipe his tears, pressing my hands to his face, staring into his pained blue eyes. One word, and Beckett is setting Le Port on fire for me, when my own parents wouldn’t even lift a finger.
Why didn’t they?
