Page 71 of Bared Betrayal
I merely glance up at him, his eyes going wide.
“Well, then, my son is a fucking schmuck.”
“It will ruin his career.”
“I fail to see that.”
I sit up straight, staring down at the expensive Persian carpet. “The day we got rescued, a frenzy followed. The case shook our little town, and they printed our names and photos in every newspaper, magazine, and street flyer.” I swallow hard, recalling it all. “Reporters called our house constantly. My parents had to have the number changed, but it didn’t take long for them to find the new one. We just…we couldn’t leave the house without being hounded and followed by reporters. It was a complete shit show, Gabriel.” I look up at him, more tears escaping. “Our therapist back then had to come to our house. Maya and I both hated it.” I scoff. “We were forced to relive it by telling him every horrible little detail of what we went through because they thought it would help us deal with the trauma.” I wipe at my nose. “But some days when I looked at my little sister, I thought I was the only one reliving it all in our therapy sessions. Maya wasn’t.” I glance back up at Gabriel. “She wasn’t reliving the nightmare. She was still trapped in it. She was never saved.”
Gabriel sits on the coffee table in front of me, and I lightly shake my head. “Maya’s body died two months after they found us, but her soul…her soul died in that prison the day that monster first laid a hand on her.”
“I’m sorry, Kallie,” he murmurs and reaches for my hand, but I pull away and lean back into the couch.
“Reporters couldn’t even stay away from her funeral. They just wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t even grieve my sister in peace. So, as they lowered Maya’s body into the earth that day, I decided to bury the real me alongside her.” I meet his gaze, those potent blue eyes of his swimming with pity. “Kalliana Pearson died the day we buried my sister.”
He hangs his head, and I hear him inhale deeply.
“Now you know,” I say. “Now you know where my deeply-rooted need for pain comes from.”
His gaze shoots up to meet mine, and I smile sardonically.
“That’s what started all this, isn’t it? You needing to know why I’m so fucked, why I need to be whipped and caned, tied to crosses and have my skin torn just to get off.” Abruptly, I get to my feet, pulling my shirt over my head and dropping my skirt and panties to the floor.
“What the fuck are you doing, Kallie?”
I point at the scar on my pelvis, stretching between my hips. “You know how I got this?”
He doesn’t respond.
“I got a backstreet hysterectomy because I wanted to make sure I never have children. Want to know why?”
“Kallie, you don’t have to—”
“Because I ruin lives, Gabriel. I couldn’t even take care of my sister. Imagine what a shitty mom I’d be.”
“Stop,” he warns, and I scoff.
“I told Sebastian I had to get it done because of endo, not that I chose to have my womb cut from my body. You see it now, don’t you?” I stand in front of him, bare and exposed. “You see I’m too fucked-up to deserve your son’s love.” I swallow hard. “To deserve yours.”
“Kallie, stop.”
“I’m not worth anything but the whip on a goddamn cross.”
He grabs my wrist, launching himself up, pulling me close. But I fight him. I’m slamming my fists against his chest, screaming, crying, taking out every ounce of pain and hurt that’s flooding my goddamn system so hard, I can’t think straight. “I deserve to be punished,” I cry. “I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t fucking save her!”
“Shhh. It’s okay.” He takes my beating. He doesn’t stop me or let go of me while I’m thrashing and screaming against him.
“I shouldn’t have survived.” I sob violently. “I should be the one buried in that motherfucking cemetery. Not her. Not Maya.”
“I got you, baby girl,” he says while I’m completely lost, unable to control the emotions destroying me from the inside. Tears come fast, and I can’t stop them. I don’t want to stop them. I don’t want to let go of the pain from my past. It’s all I have left. The only reminder I have of how profoundly I failed my little sister. “It was all my fault. Everything. Everything was my fault.”
“He’s not supposedto be here.”
I shut the door behind Thomas and turn to face my sister. “Shut up.”
“I’m telling Mom and Dad you’re having your boyfriend over every time they go out on date night.”
“And I’ll tell them that you’ve been smoking behind the bleachers after school.”
