Changed by Fire (Phoenix Rising #6) - Harper Wylde Page 0,99
me, claiming I wanted it if I was naked.” I heard Killian growl, though I couldn’t make myself look at him. “I tried to avoid him as best as I could. Stay out of his way like I did with Michael. But he’d always find a way to sneak in. It didn’t matter if I locked the door. He’d walk across the roof and come in the window or pick the lock.” I sipped my water, trying to wash the taste of the words from my lips. “He said if I told his parents, he’d tell them I came on to him. That I was stealing stuff from them. I wasn’t, but he was. Every time he touched me, he’d tell me how I made him do it. How I wanted it. How he could see me looking at him when I’d walk by. How my pants were too tight. How I’d eaten too promiscuously, showing off my mouth.” I could hear my mates shifting, but the story was just spilling out now. I couldn’t make it stop. I had to bleed it out.
“Touching was suddenly not enough. The first time he raped me was when his parents were out of town for a few days. I stayed awake at first, but exhaustion had won. I fell asleep, and he snuck in through my window. I woke up to him on top of me, his weight pressing me down. I thought I was used to pain, that it wouldn’t bother me, but this was different.” A tear tracked down my cheek, burning the skin in its wake. “It reminded me of when Michael had killed me the first time. The tearing sensation. It wasn’t just my body. Something in my mind, my soul—I don’t know the words.” I shrugged, trying to explain and failing. “Michael had shattered my body before, but there’d been a part I’d held back. A piece he hadn’t been able to touch. This? It destroyed everything.” I tried to inhale deeply to breathe through the pain that echoed sickly inside me. “When he was done with me, he just laughed and told me it was what bitches like me were made for.” I could feel Killian shift in front of me, and I hesitantly reached out, patting his shoulder in comfort, before pulling away. It was easier if I wasn’t touching him. “It just got worse as time went on. He decided he liked seeing me in pain. And with Michael already being investigated, he knew he could get away with it by blaming the marks on him.” I took another steadying sip of the water.
“One day, his mom walked in. She’d heard me crying, I think. She walked right into my room and saw him on top of me. Saw him hit me. I just remember the way her eyes met mine. They got so wide. I thought ‘finally, finally.’ And then they just—they went empty. She just turned and walked away.” My voice broke, and Ryder swore dramatically, his own voice thick. “He laughed so hard then. He didn’t bother hiding it anymore. I wasn’t safe anywhere.” I shook my head as the memories slammed into me. “I tried telling a teacher when it started. Even with his threats, I thought a teacher was safe, you know? I was wrong. Social services came to talk to me. And the cops. They told me if I was going to seek attention, going to lie, I’d be put in a bad foster home or juvie. I was lucky to be where I was, and if I didn’t stop lying, then maybe it would happen for real because they’d be forced to put me somewhere bad. They said I should be grateful I had such a nice family looking out for me and to stop causing trouble. After a bit, I stopped trying.”
“How’d it stop, Nix?” Hiro asked quietly. “How’d you get out?”
“He hurt me too badly one day,” I replied woodenly. “They couldn’t stop the bleeding. He ran to get his mom when I passed out. She panicked. Called the cops. Told me to tell them I’d fallen from my bike and hurt myself. But the nurses knew. I’d torn so badly, you see. I had other marks. Bites. Bruises. Scratches. They were too new to be from Michael, and too many were in areas I couldn’t have placed on myself. He couldn’t lie his way out of it. He got a few years in jail,