“That doesn’t make you bad,” Cole said. “You were a little girl.”
“I know. I do. But . . .” I trailed off with a shrug.
“I’m guessing he didn’t keep his hands off you.”
“You guessed right,” I said. “The next night he got into my bed again. And he touched me and teased me, and this time my fear was less. And that meant I felt more of what he was doing to me. And it felt pretty amazing, you know? All this incredible sensation that just flowed through me, building and building like roses climbing the wall of a sensual garden.”
I looked at Cole, but he said nothing.
“I liked the way it felt,” I admitted. “And I liked that this was what grown-ups did. And I liked that it made me feel special. But I also knew that it was bad. Shameful. And that he was bad. But that I was worse for liking it.”
“Jesus, Kat,” Cole said when I confessed that.
I shook my head. “I was a kid. I was just figuring stuff out. I’m telling how it was, not how it is.” I clutched tight to his hand. “But thank you.”
I slid back into the memories. Back into the story. Whether by plan or luck, Roger never got me so worked up that I reached orgasm. But the nights became a ritual, and damned if I didn’t look forward to it.
“And then there was this one night. I don’t know why, but he touched me longer, and it all kept rising up, the way it does when you’re building, you know? And I was right there, and I could tell that it was different this time. And part of me was terrified and wanted it to back off. But another part of me wanted the feeling, because I could tell something was happening, and I wanted to know. I wanted to feel.”
“You came,” Cole said, and I nodded.
“I tried to hold it in, but there was no way. I cried out, and my body shook, and when I opened my eyes, Roger was staring down at me.” I squeezed my eyes shut in defense against the memory. “He looked horrified. Disgusted. And I swear I’m surprised that his look didn’t reduce me to dust right then.”
“Kat,” Cole said, then raised my hand to his lips and kissed my palm. That was all he did, but it was enough. It gave me the strength to finish.
“That was the last time he touched me,” I said. “If we hadn’t been traveling together, it would probably have been the last time he spoke to me. As it was, they were only with us for a few more months. I’ve never seen him again. I don’t even know his last name. But I guess technically, before you, I did come once with a guy. Thank you, Roger.” I shrugged, as if to suggest that this was all in the past and had no more effect on my day-to-day life than the price of Oreos in China.
Naturally, Cole wasn’t buying it. “Baby,” he said, then pulled me to him. He stroked me, telling me he was sorry. Making me feel cherished and special.
And, damn me, I started crying again.
“Sorry. Sorry,” I repeated, wiping the tears away. “I get weird when someone takes care of me. It’s not something I ever got used to.”
“Your dad?”
“I love him, but he was more of the self-sufficient variety.”
“I’ve got you now,” he said, and made the tears start to flow all over again.
“It’s fear, I think,” I said, thinking about Roger and how he messed me up. “Fear that if I come, whoever I’m with will leave. Except maybe not,” I amended. “Because you’re the only one I’ve ever truly cared about staying.”
“I’m flattered.”
I met his eyes. “It’s true,” I said, because I was going all in and putting my heart on the line.
“I’m right here,” he said, stroking my cheek. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, then turned my face so that I could kiss his palm. I felt warm and safe, and for the first time I was glad to be talking about all this junk in my life.
“Part of it’s guilt, too, I think,” I said.
“You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
“But I do,” I countered. “Because I liked it. I liked the way it felt when he touched me. I even . . .” I trailed off, then gathered my courage. I wanted this out. I wanted to slay these demons once and for all.
I sucked in a breath. “There were even nights when I told him I was afraid of nightmares and asked if I could crawl into his bed. He always said yes, and I always went because I hoped—”
“You wanted the feeling because it’s a good feeling. But you knew he was doing something wrong, taking something without permission and taking it from a child who had no business consenting anyway.”