Chapter 83 That’s… that is my story
Lia
The silence in that room was a living thing. So deep I could not hear a single breath.
“What are you trying to say?” Beast’s voice broke it.
I stayed quiet. Thinking. Wondering if the truth was a thing I could actually give them. A throat cleared behind Beast, and I looked up to see Owen. His eyes were locked on mine. ‘Say something’, he mouthed. ‘Or I will.’ I gave him a nod. Just a small one.
“What I have to tell you,” I began, and my own voice sounded foreign. “It might make you change your mind about me. Once you know. Once you see how pathetic I really am. You won’t want someone this weak here. I’m not worth protecting. I’m just not.”
I heard Owen let out a sound, a hard, pained breath. When I looked at him, his eyes were shining. Hex pulled him in close, an arm wrapped tight around his shoulders.
I was searching for the next right word, the way to start, when Catalina spoke instead.
“Lia.” Her voice was clear. “Four years back, my boyfriend beat me and raped me. I ended up in the hospital. I almost didn’t make it. And before that… a rival gang kidnapped me. They tortured me. They assaulted me.”
Then Jenna’s voice, soft but certain. “Sixteen years ago, the Italian Mafia did the same to me. They killed our mother. Then, four years ago, they found me. They took me again. They hurt me again.”
And then Beast. To my complete shock, Beast spoke.
“My uncle,” he said, and the words were stones dropped into the quiet. “From the time I was thirteen until I was seventeen. He molested me. He raped me. When I got bigger, he’d drug me. Tie me down. Nothing that happened to you, baby, was ever your fault. Tell us. Tell us your story.”
I was staring. These people, these strangers, had just torn themselves open for me. Like it was nothing. Like it was easy. They made me think maybe I could believe in them.
“My mother died when I was thirteen,” I said. The first sentence was the hardest. “Cancer. So it was just my dad and me. We were close. Really close. I got a full scholarship to Nebraska. For softball. A lot of schools wanted me, but I needed to be near home. That first year… it was hard. I missed my dad. I think Liam saw that. He was my professor. Business Management. At first, he was just kind. He helped me with projects. He told me I was smart. Then he told me I was beautiful. I got… fixated on him. But he was my teacher. It was a line.
Then one night I saw him in Lincoln. At some restaurant. My roommate had left me there alone. He asked if he could join me. We ate burgers. We talked. We laughed. He said he’d drive me back to campus. But he drove to his apartment instead. I could feel it, you know? That pull. That tension. I just… I went with it. I went upstairs.
The first six months were a dream. He was perfect. Then I had a group project. I had to cancel plans with him a few times to get it done. It was only a week. He hated it. The next time I saw him, at his place, he tore into me. He asked me who I thought I was. Did I really believe anyone else would ever want me? I was so confused. He said I must not want him. That he must not be good enough. So I spent that whole night reassuring him. I told him he had been my first. That had to be proof. It calmed him down.
Weeks later, he had me move in. He said it would prove I was serious. So I did. He started taking me to dinners with his friends, which was strange because we were a secret. But he promised me they’d never tell. He began choosing my clothes. Saying my choices were for children. Then he’d comment on everything I ate. Then he’d pinch me. My sides, my arms, my thighs. Telling me I was getting too big.
He made me stay for the summer. I had to lie to my dad, say I was taking classes. I do not know why I did it. I just knew I had to keep him happy. He had to stay. He hated my softball games. Our uniforms, the pants, the shorts. He said it embarrassed him. He said my body was something to be ashamed of.
My sophomore year, he wasn’t my teacher anymore. One of his friends was. That friend reported on me. Who I talked to, where I went. When he found out a boy in my class had spoken to me… that was when the comments about my looks got worse. My face was too round. I had back rolls. It was weird my breasts stayed the same while the rest of me grew. Once, I talked back. He slapped me. When I did nothing, slapping became his favorite thing. My face, my arms, my back, my legs. Hard enough to burn, but never hard enough to leave a mark that lasted. He was careful about that.
I got a break when the team traveled. But when I got back, I learned he had girls watching me too. Other students. I could not move without someone reporting to him. A jock, a girl, a teacher. And then… he got worse.”
I pushed myself off Beast’s lap and stood in the middle of the room. What came next would take everything I had left.
“Sometimes I made mistakes. A crease in his pants when I ironed. He burned my hand for that. An overcooked potato. I had to make ten more until one was perfect for him.”
I drew in a breath. Then I just grabbed the hem of my tank top and pulled it over my head. I stood there, in just my jeans and the sheer patches over my breasts. Letting them see all the marks. The room filled with sharp inhales and muttered curses.
I pointed to a long, thin line. “I burned his steak. So he used the steak knife on me.”
I touched a set of four small squares. “His dinner wasn’t ready. He was home two hours early.”
I traced a series of circular marks. “He drugged me. To test my pain. I made too much noise, I cried. So he… he took me from behind. As punishment.”
“I called my dad at the start of my junior year. Right after that. I told him everything. He was coming to get me. Liam had always warned me he knew people who would do anything for him. I didn’t know he was having my calls listened to. He knew about the call. He knew my dad was on the way.”
“I was waiting. Maybe two hours. Then a knock. I knew it wasn’t my dad. I was waiting for Liam to leave first. Liam answered the door. Two police officers were there. My father had been in a car accident. He died at the scene. I just… collapsed. Instead of running to them, I fell apart. Liam watched me. He smiled. He told me he’d warned me not to try to leave. He said I had no one to blame for my father’s death but myself. Then he carried me to the bedroom. He tied me down. He raped me. And then he took a very sharp butterfly knife, and he carved a word into me.”
I unbuttoned my shorts and let them fall. These people had given me their shattered pieces. It was time I gave them mine. I hooked my thumbs into the blue silk of my panties and rolled the top down, just enough. There, on my skin, was the word he’d carved. MINE.
“I knew I was trapped then. For good. No family. Nowhere to go. I had Owen, but he was so far away. I could not drag him into this. I never even told Liam he existed. So I learned how to live. I became the perfect little slave.” I started pulling my clothes back on as I kept talking.
“This went on. Then, five months ago, Liam said we were going to a dinner at a friend’s house. In two days. He told me to starve myself, to only drink water, so I’d look acceptable. I do not know where it came from, but I told him no. I said I would not go. The friend was an old professor of mine. One of the ones who watched me. I knew he cheated on his wife. That’s why Liam used him, Liam was his alibi. Saying no… it was a mistake. He hit me in the stomach. When I fell, he kicked me. I think he cracked my ribs. To make him stop, I finally said yes.”
“At the dinner, I had this wild idea. I played my part. I was quiet. Small. When I went to the kitchen to see if the wife needed help… I just told her. Everything. About her husband’s cheating, about Liam being the alibi. Then I lifted my blouse and showed her my ribs. All the yellow and purple. She didn’t hesitate. She told her husband we were going for more wine. She’d had her suspicions, so she’d been putting money away in her sister’s account. She drove to an ATM, took out a thousand dollars, and put it in my hand. She used the cash in her wallet to buy me a bus ticket to New York. After I told her I had a brother here. She gave me her phone. I called Owen. That is how I got here. He took me in. He did not ask a single question. So. Yeah. That’s… that is my story.”