Page 69 of Duke
Slowly, I turn my head. “He fucked me. Right there on that table while the rest of them watched. All I remember about him is that he h-had a scar. All along his jaw. The man who raped me.”
THIRTY-SIX
DUKE
Go to class.Act fucking normal. That’s the task we’d agreed to after we left the club and Hunter behind. But how in the ever-loving fuck do I do that with the ugly truth of what my father did to Lennon staring me down? My father—Lennon’s stepfather—raped her. I rub my hand over my face while I listen to my professor drone on and on about nothing nearly as important as figuring out whether Lennon understands or has any idea of what I know to be true.
One look at Bear and Mason’s faces told me they’d come to the exact same conclusion I had. Really, there’s no other answer. And the sick part is that while it’s possible it happened before he ever met her mother, he’d definitely realized his little faux pas before they got married. So, he fucking knew what he was doing. He raped a young girl, then a year later went through with marrying her mother. Oh, and he did a fine job covering it up, too. Hell, come to think of it, he never had a beard in his life until the fall of my senior year. I’d even questioned that motherfucker about why he’d chosen to grow one. He’d given me some bullshit answer about Nikki liking him with some scruff.
The real reasoning is obvious now that I know the truth. He was hiding his perverse nature from the victim who lived in his home. Lennon doesn’t remember everything from that night. They’d worn masks to hide their identities. They’d drugged her so that her memories are nothing but a fog. But it’d seem the ear-to-chin scar he has from a car accident was something she’d noticed, a detail that’d remain locked inside her head until we took her to that awful room. My eyes crash shut as an image of him heaving over a much younger Lennon infiltrates my brain. I have never in my life wanted to hack another man’s dick off so fucking badly. My stomach revolts, and the bitter taste of bile rises to the back of my throat.
All the shit she’s been through—the nightmares, the sleepwalking—it all fucking makes sense. She lived with her rapist. I wonder if maybe he didn’t eventually marry Nikki to keep tabs on her daughter. And when that didn’t work, and she was making him nervous, he pushed her off on me. The more nightmares she has, the closer she might come to remembering the horrendous thing that happened to her at his hands. I would also bet my entire inheritance that this was why he was having Quincy and Arik screw with her. I should have seen it when he was talking about having her undergo psychological evaluation. Sure,Dad.Push her to the brink and watch her go fucking crazy. That’s the nice, stepfatherly thing to do.
Little did he know, in sending Lennon to us, she’d secure three men to protect her from anything he’d throw her way. And he—actually everyone involved—are in for a whole world of hurt.
And Juliette? What happened to her that night? We know nothing for certain. It makes my guts twist into impossible knots, thinking about the possibilities. I exhale harshly, rubbing my hands over my face for the millionth time. It’s not a wonder the OG Bastards had mostly kept us away from the club all these years. They weren’t ready for us to know the depth of the shit they swim in on a regular basis or just how filthy they get.
I know we have to talk to Lennon. I don’t want her blindsided. She hadn’t wanted to talk about any of it, insisted she was fine and we could discuss things later. But how the fuck do I do that to her—bring up something that’s hurt her so badly? I think she wants to be blissfully ignorant like she had been until we walked into that place today. Is it possible she’s pieced things together and knows who raped her? Does she know anything about Juliette? I hadn’t wanted to ask her about that either. I’m terrified that if we keep adding to the strain Lennon’s under, she’s going to break.
An incoming text gets my attention, so I smoothly pull my phone from my pocket while assuming an interested-in-the-lecture face for the benefit of my professor and glance down at the phone.
Mason:
Our fathers are sick fucks.
Bear:
I thought I knew how bad it was.
I couldn’t have fathomed this.
Mason:
We have to tell Lennon, Duke.
I know.
Please let me be the one to do it.
Bear:
I think it has to happen soon.
I’m going to throw something out there.
You may not like it.
But I think there’s someone else
we need to talk to.
My palms dampen with sweat. I’m certain I’ve already thought of where he’s going with this. I tap out the obvious.
Hawthorne.
His crew needs to know why we nabbed Elliot.
And he needs to know about Juliette.
