‘Just like what your father did to you,’ she says with pressing eyes. ‘What he did to you was fucking horrible and sick and wrong.’ ‘But you deserved to feel that way,’ I assure her. ‘I hated to admit it, considering all of the bad stuff that happened afterward to you, but a part of me felt relieved, maybe even a little bit grateful.’ ‘Well, I remember when I heard about it – about what you did.’ Her voice cracks. I’d wanted him to pay for it somehow, so I did the only thing I could – beat the shit out of him.
I’d lost it that day when I found out Caleb Miller, a guy who was a little bit older than me and grew up in our town, was the one who raped Callie when she was twelve. It was the day I felt I finally did something for you, instead of the other way around.’ It’s not what I was expecting her to say, but I still lean back to look at her as I nod.
‘You know that day when you beat up Caleb?’ she finally asks, her voice slightly choked up. God, I wish I could read her mind, see into her soul like I swear she sees into mine. I’m not sure what to say to her, what she’s thinking, feeling. ‘Because a tiny part of me doesn’t even feel bad for him.’ Before I can see her reaction, which I’m sure is filled with disgust, I lower my head onto her shoulder and breathe in her comforting scent.Īfter a few minutes of gripping onto her and sobbing, I manage to get my crying under control, but the silence in the car is heavier than my tears. ‘Because …’ My hands start to quiver as she guides my arms around her waist. Shaking her head, Callie climbs over the console and sits on my lap, facing me with a leg on each side.
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