Page 29 of Wilder
Yeah. That’s fine.
May as well rip the fuckin’ Band-Aid off.
“He says all of us, but I don’t think he’s happy about it.” My heart squeezes at the pain I see radiating from his muscular body. I get the feeling he wishes he could crawl inside himself and fuckin’ disappear.
“Shit. Okay. Let’s go.” Wilder gestures that I should lead the way. “You take this one. Could you do that for me? I’m afraid of what he’s going to say. Afraid I won’t fucking handle it well. I don’t want to upset him.”
Echo’s eyes ping-pong between us. “I agree. This has got to be a sensitive topic, and it might be for the best if only one of us is asking questions. And you’re”—she wrinkles her nose—“I dunno. The most matter-of-fact, I think. It might help.”
I nod, sucking in a breath before exhaling hard. “Okay. I’m on it.” We exit the house, cautiously crossing the lawn to Beckham. The sun has gone down, so we’re under the blissful cover of dusk now, where everything seems hazy and unreal.
The three of us situate ourselves around Beckham, with me sitting at his side, but he hardly registers that we’re here with him. The only movement he makes is a slight twitch of the muscle in his jaw. I put my hand on his back, just like he’d done with me earlier. “Beck. You don’t have to tell us jack shit, you hear me? I think expelling whatever demon this is mighthelp, but it’s up to you. Your call.Yours,”I grit out, hoping he understands that I’m not going to force him.
It takes him at least thirty seconds, but his gaze finally shifts toward me. His voice is hoarse as he murmurs, “Don’t say anything until I’m done, okay?” We silently nod our agreement as I rub my hand over his back. He clears his throat roughly before beginning. “She came to take care of me when I was around twelve. I’ve thought a lot about this in the last few years. I know now, from the moment she walked into our lives, she had her eye on me. Her sights set on what she was going to do. She would invite me to watch TV with her. She’d sit close. That’s how it started. She played a long game, though, so I didn’t see it coming at first.” His body shudders under my touch, and I so fucking bad want to pull him close. Echo and Wilder are tense, probably with similar thoughts running through their heads, as I can see it written all over their faces.
Beckham’s head lowers as he mumbles, “For a couple years it was mostly things like telling me it didn’t matter if I changed my clothes in front of her. Walking in while I was showering. Or commenting on how I was growing up and how all the girls were going to be after me.” His breath catches, and he pauses. “She thought I looked like a miniature version of my fucking dad.”
I have a suspicion we haven’t even gotten to the truly awful part yet, and I already want to find this woman and end her. My eyes flick to Wilder’s, and there’s turmoil brewing just under his skin, like it’s vibrating there, ready to burst free. Attempting to infuse calm into my voice, I murmur, “Okay. Do you wanna tell us more?”
“May as well.” He draws in a huge, gulping breath, like he’s hoping it will somehow fortify him for what’s to come. “I was fourteen when she first touched me.” Blue eyes flash as he takes in our expressions of shock. Surprise. Upset. Anger.
None of those are what he was waiting for. I see it in his eyes, he’d been expecting revulsion and disgust, and that pisses me right the fuck off. I tug him closer to me, feeling a Wilder-esque need to protect. “She was like a drug to me. Once we started, I couldn’t get enough.Megan.By the time I was fifteen, I thought we were in love. I was obsessed with her.”
Fucking. Bitch. As I let everything sink in, my brain ticks back to the note we found. I do need to know one thing. “The message scrawled on the back of that one paper—it was referring to Megan and Echo, right? Whether Echo knew about what had happened in the past.”
He gives a dark, truly demented chuckle. “Yeah, I’d guess so. I have a thing for women who are kinda maternal. Caretakers.” His eyes lock on Echo. “I’m sorry for this.”
Her lips are pressed tightly together. “Do you want my thoughts?”
His chest dips and jerks as they study each other. “Yes.”
“Your… obsession?” She says it like a question, but I know she realizes it’s the absolute truth. “It’s kinda like attraction on speed. It’s amplified. That’s all. That’s how I see it, anyway.” She chews on her lip for a moment while Beckham’s eyes bore into hers.
“You— You don’t think it’s a problem?”
Slowly, she shakes her head. “I don’t. What she did—she’s the problem. Not you. Never you.” Her gaze diverts to mine, silently asking me to finish it. She leans against Wilder, and he tugs her tightly to his side, letting her rest there. And maybe he’s using her to keep himself from flying off the handle, too.
I exhale carefully. “But what happened? With her, I mean. Megan.”
“We got caught. That’s what happens when you’re having sex every chance you can get, when you’re being fucking reckless.” He mashes his lips together for a moment, then wrenches somegrass out of the ground and throws it. “My dad found us fucking in her bed.”
My teeth clench, trying not to let on how fucking furious I am. “Where did those images come from?”
“I don’t have a fucking clue. Maybe there was a camera in her room. Maybe my dad suspected? We didn’t discuss the mess I’d made. He sent her away, and that was that.” His face pinches. “Only it wasn’t. Because I couldn’t help myself.” His eyes connect with Echo’s. “I watched her. I found out where she lived, all cozy in a home with her husband and a couple of kids I assumed weren’t her biological children. Too old. But it pissed me off. She’d been talking about running away with me. One minute we were lovers and the next she had this husband—a whole-ass family—I knew nothing about. It about killed me.”
But I see that’s not the end of it. Not nearly. Not from the way he’s gotten all twitchy. “Beck …”
His eyes flash as he turns to me. “And then as I was enrolling in KU, I got…” He runs a hand over his face, his distress climbing off the charts.
His voice may have trailed off, but my mind has just been blown. “Oh, fuck. That was your first contact with?—?”
Echo and Wilder exchange a look full of anxiety. Wilder’s chest is rising and falling faster and faster, the more Beckham reveals.
Beckham’s hands clench, and I don’t know if he’s realized he’s doing it. “We’re not supposed to talk about it, but suffice it to say I was told I might want to have a closer look at what she was up to. So, I stepped up what I was already doing.”
Alarm bells sound in my head. “Fuck. No. You don’t mean?—”
“Do you mean you weren’t the only one?” The harsh clip of Wilder’s tone, and the blaze of his eyes screams that he’s full-blown raging inside.
