Page 30 of Their Cruel Love

“First time I have ever heardanyonesay you killed him.”

I shrug. “It wasn’t a good thing to confess to the cops. I kept quiet.”

“Did you know I was beneath your balcony when he fell?” I shake my head, shocked. “You didn’t know that because you told me to go home in a text. In several texts. But I heard what was said, by him and you. He assaulted you, Phoebe, and yes, he fell and died, but then I suddenly became nothing of worth? You made me your fucking fall guy. Also.” He shook his head, ferociously. “You’re explaining away…forgiving him? He sexually assaulted you. What the fuck?”

“I don’t forgive him,” I say quietly. And this is why I was almost not going to start this conversation. The sadness is returning.

“And what your family did to mine?”

I’m frowning. So is this the extra thing he holds against me? “What did we do? This makes no sense. I did nothing to your family.”

Silence reigns while he looks to be processing this. “Do you truly believe that?”

“Of course.” I’m bewildered but I need to find out more.

Then it hits me. My step-mother…if she thought his family hurt hers, she would take up arms and destroy them, if necessary. That woman could not be trusted.

“Andyou quit talking to me to mourn for that prick?” He swipes a hand through his hair. “Sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean that like I said it.”

“You did. Understand this though. Yes, I hurt you, ghosted you, but I was so confused, so guilty in my own head of murder and of attracting him when I shouldn’t have. I know now that was dumb, but it is what I thought. I was in agony.Everythingseemed wrong. It was easier to just…go away from everyone. My stepmother blamed me even though I never confessed to her. You’re the only one who knows the truth.”

He looks puzzled. “And then I left you alone too fast. I gave up. I should’ve pushed but I was seventeen and hurting too. I thought you’d decided I was useless and the best fall guy.”

What fall guy? “I blocked you.” I wince then look back at him.

Razor has finished extracting the needles and is watching us as if we’re a tennis match.

“Hmmm.” Brutus rolls off the bed and goes over to the window. He’s suddenly putting distance between us. “So here is my problem. Do I tell you what your parents did to my family? Why I’ve been aiming to humiliate you, mindfuck you, grind you underfoot as I fuck the hell out of you?”

His ire has been restoked and is burning hotter. He sounds disgusted. I sit up on the edge of the bed, still naked, still bloody, with come on me.

A shower seems a decade away right now. He hates me, after all of this? It’s a dreadful blow. And only now do I seehow much this night has done to me. I wanted to see both of them again, and again. I could see a future with us together.

“Tell me then. Please.” I’m gripping the sheet to either side, trying not to cry.

“You’re clueless? I’ve been blaming you for fucking years for ruining my family. I thought you’d told them I killed him. Did you not know how your family destroyed ours. Really?” He walks back to me. “How is that possible?”

My mouth is open and yes, the tears have arrived. “No. I did not,” I say, though my throat has trouble getting out the words. “I’m sorry.”

I should ask him, how could they do that to his family, but deep inside, I know. She would have, if she wished to.

“Yeah.” His mouth purses. “I shouldn’t have done this. Now I feel like I should say sorry, but there is no way in Hell that I am doing that.” Then he collects his clothes off the bed and the floor, and he walks out the doors, slamming them.

Fuck.“Well. That is that.”

“Give him time, Phoebe.” Razor is the voice of sanity. “He’s being an idiot, but you two have a lot to sort through.”

I flip him a desultory gesture. “I’m going to shower then leave this place.” I stop dead. “How do I do that?”

He eyes me, no doubt wondering how far he should go with this. “I will arrange your return to London. I’ve got your dress here.”

“Good.”

As I walk away, he says more, “Did you enjoy tonight, Phoebe, until this?”

I halt again. “I did.”

“Then all I ask of you is to not forget that. Remember it.”

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