Page 73 of Dolls & Daggers
I snort. “Fucking Freddy. The asshole instilled that in me.Everything always had to be clean and perfect or he’d—” A shiver has Wren wrapping his arms tighter around me. “Let’s just say the punishments were less than savory.”
“I’m sorry, Dove,” he murmurs, nuzzling the back of my neck.
“Can I ask another?” I don’t ignore his sympathy, I just don’t want to waste more time on a man who doesn’t deserve any more of my thoughts.
“Sure.” Wren skims his fingers down my stomach before trailing back to my breasts.
“Do you… do you still see her when you look at me?” I hate how timid my voice sounds, hate the vulnerability that seeps into my words. I need to be strong for him, need to be ready to carry the weight of what I’ve just unearthed.
Wrenley’s fingers never falter as he exhales softly. “No. Not anymore.”
At first, I think that’s all he’ll give me. But then he holds me tighter, shifting me higher on his body so he can rest his chin on my shoulder. “My dad left when I was little. He hated how my mother coddled me. Said he didn’t want to raise a sissy boy for a son, and didn’t care enough to really look past her obsession.”
My breath hitches. I was prepared for Wren to give me a few snippets, but it seems like my songbird isfinally ready to tell me his tale. I only wish he’d let me look him in the eye while he does.
But I understand the need to hide when revisiting our demons.
“My mother… she was… overly attentive.” A shudder rolls through his body, sending ripples through the water. “When I was young, I didn’t think much of it. A tight hug here. A kiss on the lips there. Other moms did the same with their sons, so I never questioned it. But as I got older, it got worse. She’d come into the bathroom while I was showering and open the curtain like it was nothing. The hugs became caresses. The kisses turned…” His voice trails off, barely a whisper.
I exhale slowly, pressing my tongue against my teeth in an attempt to hold back the tears burning my eyes. “Wren, it’s okay. You don’t have to?—”
“No. No, Ineedto. I’ve never told anyone. I… I need to get this off my chest.” The desperation in his voice echoes my own when I first spoke up about what happened to me. My heart clenches, aching for him.
“Okay, baby. Take your time.”
He waits a few beats before continuing. “In high school, Hunter started noticing. By then, she’d come into my room at night. Three, four times a week.” His voice quickens, turning slightly frantic. “She said it was my job as the man of the house to make her feel good.That in return, she’d make me feel good. And I knew it was wrong. By then, I knew. But I didn’t stop it. I could have, but I didn’t.”
“Baby, it’s not your fault.” My stomach roils, and the tears spill freely down my cheeks. Wren presses his forehead to my back, his own tears hot against my skin. When I try to turn, he shakes his head.
“One night, she let Hunter stay over. She never let anyone stay before, and I was never allowed to go anywhere overnight either. I thought maybe I’d be safe from her that night. Figured since Hunter was there, she wouldn’t try anything. But after we fell asleep, I woke up to her standing over me, holding a finger to her lips. She motioned for me to follow her. I didn’t want to, but it was clear she wasn’t going to leave until I did. I didn’t know Hunter was awake. He followed us and made a show of going to the bathroom just to let her know he wasn’t asleep.” Wren catches his breath, squeezing me like a life raft. “He asked if something was going on. I told him no. I was too ashamed. Too embarrassed. A few days later, she put the house on the market and pulled me out of school. We moved to California to live with some guy she’d met online. Hunter and I lost touch.”
We remain silent for a long while, until our tears have dried, and he finally lets me turn and pull him into my arms. “Hunter told me I look just like her.”
“Youdo.” He draws back to meet my gaze. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear we were related. But I do know better. And we aren’t, thank god.”
“A lot of things make sense now,” I murmur, dropping my gaze to the bubbles in the space between us. “Now I know why you hated me so much at first.”
“I just… It was hard. She was always the picture-perfect mother to everyone else. But behind closed doors…” Wren lifts my chin. “I thought that maybe you were the same way. It wasn’t fair. And I’m sorry.”
“But I am… sorta, anyway. The pink and the glitter and the happy-go-luckyareme, but then there’s the Doll.”
“And you’re perfect. Either way. So goddamn perfect, and I’m an idiot for almost letting you slip through my fingers.”
Emotion swells in my chest as he presses his lips to mine. “I can’t help but wonder if you’ll always think of her when you look at me. You say you don’t, but… have you… Would you consider sex therapy?”
Now it’s Wren’s turn to frown. “I think our sex is pretty fantastic, Turtle Dove.”
“Yeah, but… I don’t know.” I push away, needing a little distance. “Maybe it would be therapeutic for us both?”
Wren gives me a contemplative look beforegrabbing my ankle under the water and pulling me back into his lap. “If that’s what you want, we’ll do it.”
“I mean, should I change my hair? I don’t think I can pull off being a brunette, but I’ll try if you think it will help?—”
“Dove, stop.” Wren grasps my cheeks as I start to spiral. “I don’t want you to change a damn thing. I lo—” he catches himself as my heart skips a beat. His eyes dart between mine, brows notched together in perplexity as he breathes a gentle laugh. “I fucking love you, Turtle Dove. Just the way you are.”
An overwhelming wave of emotion crashes through me as tears prick my lash line and I smile. “I love you, too, Songbird.”
Our lips meet in a slow, tempered sweep of passion, laughter spilling between us—part disbelief, part wonder, that just months ago, we were ready to tear each other apart.
