Page 138 of Descent

I clear my throat, but still refuse to look up at him. “Once in a while I have panic attacks.”

“Randomly?”

I shake my head. “Something always triggers them. I was on the verge of one the night I went out with Lance, when he tried to kiss me after dinner. Arson interrupted, and my body forgot what it was doing or something, I don’t know.”

“All right,” he says patiently.

“It’s usually something like that. If I feel… violated in some way that takes me off guard. If someone makes an advance I don’t… want.”

I glance up at him to see his brow furrowed in utter confusion. “Then why didn’t you have one that night in the dungeon with me?”

I’ve lost sleep wondering that myself.

“I don’t know,” I answer softly.

He nods slowly, not entirely understanding, but not dwelling on it, either. “All right. But nothing like that happened just now. I didn’t do… anything—”

I cut him off, shaking my head. “It wasn’t you.”

He scowls. “What do you mean, it wasn’t me?”

This issonot how or when I wanted to have this conversation, but it seems kind of unavoidable at this point.

I swallow, trying to put the right words in order.

I look up at him and see I have his full attention.

“Remember when you… did that to me, and then I asked if you’d done it to anyone else?” He nods. “And you said I was your first?”

He nods again.

“Well, you weren’t mine.”

Chapter Forty One

Hallie

It’s not how I thought the visit would start, sitting in the car telling my most recent rapist the story of the jerk who violated me before he came along. It’s not a story I like to tell anyone, and because of our unique circumstances, Ireallydidn’t want to tell him.

He could ruin absolutely everything with one wrong comment. He could be cruel or dismissive. He could identify more with Mark and have no sympathy for what I went through. I wouldn’t be able to get past that, but I wouldn’t be able to leave, either.

It’s what I expect. It’s what makes sense. Most people want to believe they’re good, and how could he condemn Mark without condemning himself?

But, somehow, he manages. He manages to wrap his arms around me and hold me without it feeling icky or fake. Somehow, he can offer comfort for that earlier instance of pain despite having inflicted similar pain on me himself.

I got a little more upset than I expected to while I told the story. I have to swipe at my nose with a tissue from my purse. “I just can’t believe he’s that much of an asshole. To buy a house that close to my mom’s…”

“Don’t worry,” Calvin says darkly before pressing a kiss to my forehead. “He won’t live there for much longer.”

I pull back and look up at him. “Are you going to buy his house, too?”

Calvin smiles. His eyes are warm for me, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Something like that. Don’t worry about it. Just know that if we ever have to drive this way again, it will not be past his house.”

“She’ll probably want us to visit for Christmas,” I murmur.

“Then I’ll make sure he’s gone by then.”

The way he says it, not like it’s a vague idea or a hasty promise made in anger, but as if it’s a done deal already, and I don’t need to think about it any longer…

---