The Raven Four Books 1-3 - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,86
it was a he,” I reply coolly, my guard going back up.
He gives me a tolerant look. “You may have not said the words aloud, but we know your uncle did this to you.” He strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “It’s okay to say it aloud. Whatever he threatened you with to keep you silent, we won’t let him do to you. We won’t let him hurt you.”
“He didn’t threaten me with anything.” Which is the truth. “I just know that no one’s gonna believe me.” With him being a cop and me being a once accused killer, that’s the real truth.
He dips his head, leveling his gaze with mine; his expression soft, cautious. “I’ll believe you. I promise I will.”
“Because of the rules?” I question with cynicism.
“No, because I know that ugly exists in this world and that people who are supposed to love and take care of us end up being the worst tormentors.”
His words strike a nerve inside me, but I can’t get the words—the truth I’ve been carrying inside me for years—to leave my lips.
“Hunter … I …” I trail off as he cups my face between his hands.
“Just trust me, like I trust you,” he says, his gaze searing into mine.
Trust. What the hell is it even? I have no plans of finding out, but he just keeps on staring at me, waiting, and waiting, and waiting.
“Trusting people is hard,” I finally confess.
“I know,” he agrees. “But sometimes, when the person is trustworthy, it can feel really fucking good to trust them.” For a brief moment, guilt flickers in his eyes, but it happens so swiftly that I wonder if I imagined it.
“I wouldn’t know,” I mutter, feeling so damn tired.
Of fighting. Of everything.
When I look back at this moment, I won’t be able to say why I decided to confide in someone. But something definitely changes in me the second I utter the words aloud. Whether it’s a good change or a bad one, I haven’t got a damn clue.
“I came home from you guys’ place, and my uncle had found out I’ve been stealing from his drug stash,” I start, feeling terrified, a completely new feeling for me, which seems crazy considering I jumped off a bridge yesterday. But that seemed easy in comparison to trusting someone. Trust is fucking scary. “He pinned me down on the bed and carved that”—I gesture at the word disappointment—“into my side.”
Frowning, he gently touches the scars again. “Why didn’t you call us? Didn’t Zee give you the card?”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have my phone, remember? And we don’t have a house phone.”
He frowns. “Shit. I didn’t even think about that. I’m so damn sorry, little raven. I really am … I’m going to make it up to you somehow.”
“You don’t need to do that. Honestly, I probably wouldn’t have called you anyway.”
“You should always call us when you need help,” he insists in what I’m assuming is a stern tone for him, but it’s filled with too much gentleness. “In fact, promise me you will.”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Then we’re gonna stand here all damn day.”
“Fine, I promise.” It’s a total lie.
Asking for help … trusting people … it’s not my thing.
He looks down at my scars. “Did he put all of these on you?” He doesn’t remove his hand, keeping it on my scars just underneath my shirt.
“Yeah, he started doing it years ago. He does it when I do something that really pisses him off. Although, he’s been doing it more frequently the older I get. But that might be because I get in more trouble now than I used to.” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, wavering. “I don’t know. He kinda seems to … get off on it, so maybe he just likes doing it.”
His brows furrow, his eyes crinkling at the corners as sunlight hits him directly in the face. “What do you mean by that exactly?”
“That he seems to like doing it to me.” I shrug as the wind blows wisps of my hair into my eyes. “I think, right after he cut me last night, he went and had sex with my aunt, so … yeah …” I shrug again.
He sucks in a shaky breath through his nose then gradually releases it. “I think we need to get you out of that house.”
I blink at him. “What?”
He skims his knuckles across my cheekbone. “You need to move out of your aunt and uncle’s house. In fact, I