Page 69 of His Property

I take his hand and squeeze, and he subtly pulls away. “I wasn’t always cooperative when she molested me, so you know,” he gestures to himself and doesn’t look me in the eye. His face turns to stone, and the tension in the room nearly suffocates me. “I have quite a few reminders.”

I don’t react to what he’s telling me, and it isn’t as difficult as I expect. It isn’t shocking to hear. I heard the way his mother spoke to him tonight and the way he reacted to it. I’m not a counselor, but I’ve seen sexual abuse. It answers a lot of questions I have about Victor.

“I didn’t want it,” he says before I can form the right words in my mind. “I didn’t fucking like it.”

I frown. “Of course you didn’t.”

Victor says nothing, and I zero in on his clenched jaw.

“Victor, you were a kid. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I know, it just…” He takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. “I fucking hate that bitch.”

I nod in understanding and look down at the bedsheet. I smooth a wrinkle in the satin and chew on my cheek. “But you can’t kill her?”

I peek at Victor in time to see him shake his head.

He closes his eyes and sighs. “I don’t know why. I just… can’t. I didn’t even tell anyone about it until I was fourteen.”

A few moments pass while I pick at the sheet. “Is that why she was in prison?”

“Yeah.”

I nod. “So is it safe to say she’s pissed?”

“Without a doubt.”

“What does that mean for you and Gabi?” I finally look at Victor and am surprised when he locks eyes with me. “Is your mom trying to take back your house or something?”

“I guess.” He shrugs. “I don’t know what her plan is. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

He’s been doing a stellar job distracting himself.

“I don’t want to have to kill her,” Victor says, leaning his head back against the headboard. “I’m hoping she’ll leave us alone, but Gabi isn’t convinced she will.” Victor laughs dryly. “I thought after all this time she might be too embarrassed to contact us. Or ashamed or sorry orsomething, you know?”

“She should be.” I scoot closer to him but refrain from touching him. “But that isn’t the way abusers think.”

He lifts his lips into a sad smile, but his eyes don’t match the gesture. “I guess I should know.”

“You’re nothing like her, Victor.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mae. I kill people on a regular basis. Ilikeit.”

My heart stutters, but I push on. “You do what you do for the mafia. Murdering criminals isn’t the same as—”

“They’re not all criminals.”

My lungs shrink, and I focus on pulling in air.

“I would’ve killed your brother and wouldn’t have felt a thing. I would’ve enjoyed killing you.”

“Stop.” I shake my head and close my eyes.

“I’m just telling you the truth.”

“You’re trying to push me away.” I open my eyes and take in a shaky breath. “Please stop.”

He stares into my eyes and crosses his hands over his chest. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”

---