There were a million what-ifs that could have stopped the whole thing. A million things I wished I’d done differently. But in the end, I was left with what actually happened. With my mistakes and his.
And with the question of which mistakes I could live with.
“How many times?” I demanded, so soft I barely heard my own words. I picked at my cuticles because I couldn’t stand to watch him struggle for an answer. “How many times did you let him…use me?”
Nash sighed, and the bed creaked as he moved closer, but I didn’t look up. “I don’t know. I wasn’t counting. I was trying to forget.”
You should have been trying to stop him. “Make a guess.” I rolled away from the bed until the chair back hit the desktop.
“I didn’t see you very often when you were grounded. So…maybe once a week. Until the last week of school.”
“Twice that week?” I asked, and Nash nodded miserably.
“So, six times?”
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
“What did I do?” I demanded, far from sure I really wanted the answer.
“Kaylee, you don’t want to—”
“No, you don’t want to,” I snapped. Because the guilt was killing him. I could see that. But I needed to know. “Tell me.”
“Most of the time, he just talked through you. Told me where and when to meet Everett. Made me remember things, so he could take his payment.” A concept which horrified me to no end.
“But it was more than that once, right?” Unless Avari was lying. Please, please let him be lying…
Nash closed his eyes and let his skull thump into the headboard. “The first time.” He opened his eyes and met my gaze so I could see the earnest colors swirling in his irises. The brutal honesty. “I didn’t know what was going on, Kaylee. I swear, I had no idea. I didn’t even know it was possible.”
“What happened?”
“Your dad was at work, and I came over with a movie. You fell asleep on the couch, and I was gonna let you sleep. But then you woke up, and we started…kissing.”
“That’s it?” I could tell that wasn’t it. The thought of Avari kissing him with my mouth was revolting, but it wasn’t bad enough to account for the crimson flush of shame in his cheeks.
“No. You… He let me…touch you. He took your shirt off. I should have known it wasn’t you, but I—”
“Yeah, you should have!” My head was a maelstrom of rage and humiliation, spinning fast and hard enough to make me dizzy. I pulled my jacket closed over my shirt, as if that could somehow block what he’d already seen. What he’d touched. But I couldn’t undo it. It was done when I couldn’t stop it, and he didn’t stop it.
I stood, breathing too fast. Terrified by the thought that I could have been so out of control of my own body. I can’t do this. It was too much.
I whirled on him, anger burning deep inside me. “You can’t remember what our real firsts felt like, and I wasn’t even there for this one. How am I supposed to deal with that?” I scrubbed both hands over my face. “I’m lost, Nash. What happened while I wasn’t here—what you thought you were doing with me—may have been no big deal to you, but it would have been special to me. Something I was supposed to give to you, but someone else gave it to you instead, and now it’s ruined. And I want it back, but you can’t give it back to me…” I blinked away more tears, struggling to cling to anger instead.
Nash stood, too, but gave me space. “Kaylee, I swear I had no idea what was going on.”
“You didn’t want to know! You saw what you wanted and took it, and it didn’t occur to you that something wasn’t right until…” I stopped, my focus narrowing on him as my stomach pitched with a sudden horrifying certainty. “When did you know? Did you stop on your own? Did you figure it out, or did he tell you?”
Nash dropped his gaze. His hands curled into fists, and he shoved them into his jeans pockets. “We were… He said something, and it wasn’t your voice.”
The churning in my stomach grew into full-fledged nausea. “So he stopped you, probably only because cluing you in would be more fun. How far would you have gone if he hadn’t? Would you have stopped at all?”
Had Nash Hudson ever waited three months for anyone to give it up before? Could he even be expected to have that kind of willpower, when I wasn’t saying no?
Nash read the fear on my face. “Kaylee, no. I would have figured it out.” He stepped forward, and I backed up until my spine hit the wall, and I had nowhere else to go. He stopped, begging me silently to listen. To try to understand. “I know your limits. I know you. I would have figured it out. I would have stopped.”
“Why should I believe you?” I felt used. I felt cheated and dirty, and though I knew that wasn’t entirely Nash’s fault, I couldn’t help hating him a little bit, for letting it happen. “You called me a tease. You said anyone else would have walked away already. But would you have, if I seemed willing? You’ve already tried to Influence me out of my clothes.”
“Kaylee, that’s not fair. I wasn’t thinking. I was…”
“High?” I raised both brows, and he nodded miserably.
“Yeah. You were. And you’re right—it wasn’t fair. So why should I believe you now?”
“Because he never fooled me again.” Nash made eye contact and held it, letting me see the truth. “I know you. I love you, Kaylee. I know you probably can’t forgive me—hell, I don’t think I can forgive myself—but I swear on my life that it’ll never happen again. Any of it. No more frost. No more lies. No more Influence. Please, just give me a chance to prove it. Will you give me one more chance?”
“I…”
But before I could come up with an answer, Tod appeared in the desk chair, where I’d sat minutes earlier. “Hey. Am I interrupting something?”
“Yes,” Nash said. “Get out.”
But Tod was watching me, and I could tell from the angry line of his jaw that he’d been listening long before he showed himself. He’d heard what Avari had done to me. What Nash had let him do.
“You want me to go?” Tod asked me, his back to his brother.
Nash implored me silently to say yes. Tod waited patiently.
“No,” I said, looking right at Nash. He scowled, and his shoulders sagged.
“Good.” Tod stood and kicked the rolling chair out of his way. “I just checked on your friend in the straitjacket. But first…” The reaper swung before either of us realized what he intended to do.
Tod’s very solid fist slammed into Nash’s jaw. Nash’s head snapped back. He stumbled into the wall. Tod shook his hand like it hurt. “That’s for what you let him do to Kaylee.”
Nash shoved himself away from the wall, swinging at his brother. But his fist went right through the reaper’s incorporeal head, and Tod only frowned, turning back to me while his brother seethed.
I gaped at them both, surprised beyond speech.
Tod pushed the rolling chair toward me, and I sat. Nash sank onto his bed, glaring at his brother and rubbing his jaw. “How’s Scott?” I asked, still trying to absorb the abbreviated fistfight and avoid answering Nash’s last question. “Still hearing voices?”
“Just that one voice,”
Tod said. “According to the chatter at the nurses’ station he’s been much worse tonight. I figure Avari’s been throwing fits ever since we crossed over.”
And if Avari was taking his rage out on Scott, I didn’t want to know what he was doing to Addy.
“How does he look?” Nash asked, staring at the floor rather than look at his brother.
“Crazy.” Tod shrugged. “He stares at the walls like they’re going to swallow him, and they’re keeping the room lit from all four sides to eliminate shadows. Even at night. Otherwise, he screams until they have to sedate him.” The very thought of which triggered memories of my own time strapped to a bed. “They seem to think his fear of shadows is part of his neurosis.”