Page 79 of Hard Rock Fling
"I've been good for years."
"Then why are you carrying a razor blade around?"
He lips quirked up, half-amused, half-ashamed. "Security blanket." Ian caught my failing arms and held my wrists in his one good hand. "I only did it once recently before today. I forgot how to do it properly and went a little too deep this time. I promise, you don't have to worry."
Tears filled my eyes. "You're hurting yourself. How can I not worry?"
His tried to give me a reassuring smile, but it looked sickly. "It's not like I'm suicidal. I only do it on the back of my arms."
"That doesn't make it any better."
"I'm just saying. I'm not going to kill myself."
"Thenwhy?Why do it?"
Ian let out a deep breath and collapsed back onto the sofa. "It's hard to explain."
"Tell me." This time I sat close, knees tucked under me, pressing my thighs against his. "I want to understand."
Ian leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the heels of his hands pressed over his eyes. For a long moment, I didn't think he was going to answer. Then he spoke.
"Growing up… our dad was pretty shitty. At first it was just cruel words. Putting us down all the time. He made us feel worthless. Then came the yelling, the anger. Then came the hitting, the beatings."
I leaned my head on his shoulder and placed one hand on his chest. I didn't say anything, just let him talk.
"Our mom was so cowed. So beaten down. She didn't do a thing to stop it. I don't think she could, mentally or emotionally. She tried to pretend everything was okay, living in her own little world. But nothing was okay."
"I'm sorry."
He let out a heavy breath, going silent for a moment.
"The cutting made it better," he finally admitted.
I scooted back so I could meet his eyes. "How?"
"I think…" he trailed off thoughtfully. "I think it's almost like it took all the hurt and anger and pain that I was feeling inside and made it physical. The pain on the outside made the pain on the inside feel less terrible. I guess you could call it a coping mechanism." He let out a dark laugh. "Pretty awful coping mechanism, I know."
My brow furrowed. “But… how did Damon not know?"
"I kept it from him for a long time. We weren't always as close as we are now. Our dad played us against each other. It didn't exactly make for warm fuzzy feelings between us."
"I never would have guessed. You seem inseparable now."
"That started when Damon found out. When he finally discovered what I was doing, he was determined to help me. He watched me like a hawk. He was there to snap me out of it when I started spiraling down. He was there for me whenever I needed him."
"But you still continued to cut, even with his help?"
"I stopped for a long time. I thought I'd stopped for good. That it was behind me."
"But something must have gone wrong a few years ago. It must have been bad. You went on hiatus."
Ian nodded, playing with a strand of my hair. "We did."
"Can I ask what happened?" I was hesitant, still not sure how much he was willing to share.
"We got famous," he said simply. "We got rich. Our dad showed up. Said he was entitled to our money. Made it all about him. There was a huge blow up. Damon almost got arrested. August had to straighten everything out. I don't know what he said or did, but our dad went away. We haven't seen or heard from since him."
"And that's when you started up again?"
