Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (23 page)

I clear my throat.
“
Why are you telling me this? Why did you bring me here?
”

“
I think I understand Kevin. Understand why he would do something creepy like follow you here after you guys obviously broke up.
”

I laugh and she puts her hand up to stop me from interrupting.

“
At the bed and breakfast, they had these massive trees that looked like a solitary branch until you got to the top and everything was gnarled together. Walking the coast you could see where the wind whipped them into where they grew
—
the branches, the leaves, the shape
—
everything bent into one direction.
”
She gets up and walks to the window and places her hand on the frame. She
’
s not even looking at me. I squat and find a place to sit.

“
One morning I went out to catch the sunrise before my flight left and the owner of the bed and breakfast followed me. Told me she
’
d seen me walk the same path every morning and could tell I was nursing a heartbreak,
”
Jessa laughs.
“
She told me that in her experience, extreme heartbreak often came out of one or two things: a great love or a great addiction.
”
She looks at me and then back out the window.
“
Anyway. I told her a bit about Ren and how I screwed everything over and then we just walked the shore for a little while, with neither of us saying anything. And then, out of nowhere, she pointed to those trees standing guard in between the ocean and her place. Told me they were called storm-wood. That they bend with the wind so that they don
’
t break.
”
She wipes her cheeks with her fingers and looks down.

“
That
’
s when I realized that even though Ren and I had a great love, I was treating him like an addiction. I had to lean in to this pain
—
had to let it cut off all these dead pieces inside so I could grow and be better for it. I let him go, then. I never texted, never called. I just waited.
”

She turns and walks over, kneeling in front of me and grabbing my hand.

“
I don
’
t know what happened with you, Stephanie. But you gotta learn how to be storm-wood. You gotta learn how to bend so you won
’
t break. It
’
s the only way you
’
ll really survive. Kevin screwed up. From what it sounds like, he had a great addiction that morphed into a greater love. He just didn
’
t know what to do with it. Let him fix it. I think he can if you let him.
”

She squeezes my hand and moves to sit next to me. We sit there in silence for a few minutes.

My heart beats a rhythm I
’
m not familiar with
—
one begging me to say something, to speak, to offer some type of response.

I clear my throat.

“
I don
’
t really know how to trust people.
”

Jessa nods and cracks a smile.

“
So you
’
ve said.
”

I pick at my nails and refuse eye contact.

She won
’
t ever believe you.

I hear his voice loud and clear.

Stop.
I beg him
—
silently, I
’
m not to the point where I
’
m verbalizing my conversations with the voice of my father in my head
—
but I still feel crazy giving him attention.

You
’
ll always be mine. You
’
ll always scare people away. I own you, Stephanie.

I
’
m barely breathing. I close my eyes and imagine myself pushing the voice over the edge into oblivion. When the chatter stops, I look at her.

“
I think it
’
s time you know my story,
”
I whisper.

Chapter Twelve

I begin slowly, still fearful of the voices coming back with a vengeance. I stare at the floor the entire time, too chicken to catch Jessa
’
s eyes. I
’
m almost positive what I would find
—
rejection, horror, repulsion
—
would send me over the edge.

“
You have to understand. I don
’
t tell anyone what really happened to me because no one would believe me.
”

Her voice cuts in, barely a whisper.
“
I
’
ll believe you.
”

I sigh.
“
You say that now. You don
’
t really know me. You only know that I claim to be fucked up and come from a rough background.
”

Her silence serves as an invitation to keep going. I watch her hands
—
still toying with the strands falling from the hem of her shorts.

“
My father sold me, Jessa. I was his pawn in this wicked game he played with the authorities back home. Everyone was in on it. Including Kevin.
”

I hear her breath catch.

“
Kevin?
”
she whispers, her voice pained.

I nod.
“
Kevin. He knew the entire time
—
even before I told him. I had this teacher who befriended me and kind of took me in
—
we were super close. Her husband had this mysterious job and I never knew what he did until just recently. He studies trafficking patterns. Watches perpetrators and those he suspects are in the business of sex slavery.
”

Breathe in, breathe out.

“
He
’
d been watching my father for at least a year. Pulled Kevin in on the case after hearing about him from some friends within the local unit. Kevin watched me for months before introducing himself at a coffee shop.
”

“
Why Kevin?
”

A sob catches in my throat and I shake my head.

“
Because he was accused of raping a friend at a party. He was the only one who came forward to give information and then the authorities turned on him. Sticking your neck out for other people is kind of their modus operandi.
”

I wipe my nose with the back of my arm. The only thing you can hear in the room is our breathing.

In and out. In and out. Almost in unison.

“
How long did he do this, Stephanie?
”

“
Since I was twelve.
”

She
’
s quiet again for a few beats.

“
How can someone possibly get away with selling their own daughter?
”
Her voice is tinted with disgust.

“
He involved the authorities. His biggest customer was the sheriff.
”

She gasps.

“
No wonder you don
’
t like cops.
”

“…
yeah.
”

“
Fuck.
”
It
’
s barely audible, her response.

I nod.

Fuck.

She reaches for my hand and wraps it in both of hers.

“
Stephanie. How the
fuck
are you still breathing?
”

I laugh.
“
Trust me. I
’
ve tried. You
’
d be amazed at the system and their blind eye toward familial dysfunction.
”
I glance at her for the first time and notice tears streaming down her cheeks.
“
Last year I was hospitalized after a particularly brutal evening with a few men.
”
She winces and I continue, gaining strength as I share.

“
For a while, we were able to keep my father out of the loop until they realized I was underage. Because of local legislation, if authorities found out that I was technically a prostitute, even though I was forced, I would be sent to juvie. We were stuck. Of course, this was before I knew everyone was involved
—
Kevin, Jude, Emma. All of them knew.
”
I pick at a piece of fuzz stuck on my shoe.

“
We decided to keep the story under wraps and stick to the reality of it being a gang rape. They called up daddy dearest and he had the entire floor charmed.
”

One of her hands squeezes mine.

“
Shit, Stephanie. I mean. We
’
re all damaged, right? We can
’
t get through life without the metaphorical bumps and bruises to our psyche. But you? You
’
re sitting here, telling me this as if you
’
re reading from a newspaper. I don
’
t understand.
”

I shrug.

“
Denial? It
’
s amazing what we can forget about if we force ourselves to just not think about it. I just don
’
t think about it. Some days are better than others. The bad ones are the ones where I hear my dad
’
s voice louder than the rest.
”
I push a strand of hair behind my ears.
“
We all want to be normal, you know? It just takes some of us a deeper sense of pretense.
”

She lets go of my hand.
“
Wait. You told Kevin your dad was here.
”

I stare at my hand, now hanging limp off my leg, and don
’
t respond.

“
Stephanie.
”

I bring my gaze slowly to hers.

“
He
’
s here.
”

She exhales.
“
Double fuck.
”

I twist my fingers and let out a derisive laugh.
“
I thought I was done with him. I thought I would never have to see him again
—
it
’
s bad enough his voice won
’
t leave my mind. He has to follow me too?
”

“
How the hell did he find you?
”

I grow silent for a moment.
“
I don
’
t know. I have no idea. I thought
…”
I breathe in and roll my shoulders, stretching my neck.
“
I thought I was done.
”

Jessa stands and starts pacing.
“
So. Your dad is here. Following you.
”

“
He left a poem from Fitz taped to my door.
”

She pauses and looks at me, wide eyed.

“
He
…
what? He left a poem? From the same guy we got poems from? Stephanie. That
’
s like
…
.really close to where I live.
”

“…
I know.
”

She starts pacing again
—
this time with quicker steps and big gulps of air.
“
I need you to know I
’
m trying really hard not to freak out right now.
”

“
You hate me. I get it. I should have told you.
”

She turns to me.
“
No. No I did not say that. I mean, yes. I wish you would have told me your father is some psycho fuck who is stalking you and coincidentally, stalking me but
…
you know.
”
She shrugs.
“
Details.
”