I blew out a long lungful of indecision. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” I asked.
He shuddered and shook his head. “No. I’m pretty certain I don’t.” Then he took my hand. “But I think you need to tell it, anyway. For your own benefit.”
“Okay.” I nodded. I could do this. The fear of it clogged my pores, making me want to stay silent, but that only ratcheted up my determination to do as he suggested. I didn’t want to be afraid anymore. I didn’t want it to control me. I had to conquer the fear, not give in to it.
“I—I just need to collect my thoughts a second.”
Indigo kissed my ear gently. “Take as long as you need.”
But the longer I stalled, the more the fear crowded into my lungs and made me want to still my tongue, which caused my anxiety to mount even more and remember when I’d been unable to talk.
Not wanting my words to be suffocated by anything a moment longer, I blurted, “I thought you were him. Just now. I’m sorry. I didn’t—I didn’t realize it was you. I didn’t mean to jerk away from you like that. I just—”
“Shh,” he assured, stroking my arm. “It’s me. It’s okay. Take your time. You don’t have to rush or push—”
Except now, it felt like I did. “I’m alright now,” I told him, gripping his wrist in gratitude. “I can talk.”
I would talk.
Releasing a breath, he nodded. “Okay, then. Who did you think I was?”
“Him,” I answered, momentarily squeezing my eyes shut. “Your uncle.” And then, because saying his name felt scary, I had to add, “Everett. The last few days he had me, he started sleeping next to me, pressed against me from behind.”
Bile rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back down.
Indigo tensed. His rage and heartbreak were so palpable I could smell the steam scorching off his skin.
“Did he—?” He couldn’t finish the question, so I did.
“Rape me? No. But he did just about everything else. I think torturing me became a fetish of his, and he grew obsessed with the idea of owning and controlling me. I was too much of a filthy Graykey to actually tup, but he still looked, and fondled, and masturbated on me frequently.”
“Christ,” Indigo hissed, repeatedly wiping his face with his hands. “If he started sleeping next to you, it sounded like he was starting to change his mind about the tupping part too.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Probably. But Qualmer showed up before it got that far.”
“And now I’m really beginning to regret killing that bastard. I should’ve thanked him instead of cutting his—”
“No.” I shook my head. “You did the right thing with Qualmer. He didn’t plan to treat me any better than Everett had. Though I am glad he got me away from the extractor.”
“The extractor?”
With a nod, I explained everything, going into detail this time, since I’d merely glossed over my experience before when I’d told him what had happened. I gave terror and hopelessness a new face with my words, letting him know exactly what had transpired. And by the time I was done talking, I was exhausted and tired, ready to sleep for a week straight. But I felt lighter.
Inside.
Indigo had been right. Voicing the darkness and horror helped relieve the pressure. It got it out of my head and made me think I might just survive this after all.
There was this raw vulnerability inside me, yes, as if I’d just shaved all the old, vile gunk off in the inner lining of my body with a sharp blade, leaving everything new and tender and exposed, but it also made me feel cleansed, as if I’d be stronger and healthier for it once I healed and adjusted to the newness of the change.
Indigo looked wrecked and haunted after hearing it, though. A layer of sweat coated his skin, his eyes looked glazed with shock and torment, and I swear his muscles were going to be stuck permanently on tense. But all he did was lie down, taking me with him and kept his arms wrapped around me as he gathered me close.
“Thank you for telling me,” he said. “I didn’t think I could love you any more than I did yesterday. But listening to your story of strength and endurance as you suffered through all that just made my awe and adoration for you double. You’re the bravest, most beautiful woman I know. Inside and out.”
I kissed his jaw and stroked his cheek. “I only made it through because of you. I kept thinking about your smile and infernal optimism and how you asked me to live, so I kept forcing the air into my lungs, and I clung to life no matter what.”
We reached the inn where the men had left Melaina by midmorning the next day. And even before we made it to the cottage she was staying in, I could hear her banshee screeching as she attacked the poor guard Indigo had left with her, trying to get past him and out the door.
“If you don’t move out of my way, you sexy young buffoon, I’m going to be forced to remove one of my favorite members of your anatomy, and trust me, neither of us wants that.”
Chuckling, I glanced over at Indigo. “I never thought I’d miss the sound of her threatening anyone. But I think I did.”
“Yeah.” He reached across the two horses we rode and took my hand, squeezing warmly. “Life wouldn’t be the same without her.”
“Melaina,” I called as soon as we reached the inn where my aunt had just bulldozed her way through the panicked and helpless guard who was trying to keep her inside. “Stop tormenting the poor soldier. He’s only trying to keep you safe.”
My aunt paused in her tracks before turning slowly my way.
I stopped my horse and dismounted, taking in her features. Her cheeks were hollowed, and deep purple bruises underlined her eyes. Indigo hadn’t been lying when he said she’d nearly killed herself worrying about me.
Pressure filled my chest and tears of gratitude rose. I knew she couldn’t show emotion, but I’d honestly thought she’d never really cared about me. Though I never would’ve wished her to be hurt because of it, I had to admit it was nice to finally know just how important I was to her.
She blinked once, her lips parting with awe. Then her eyes narrowed as she stormed toward me, where she slapped me as hard as I think anyone had ever been slapped before.
“Don’t you ever worry me like that again, you miserable little cow,” she fumed, unable to reveal her true emotions, or she just might die after all. “Do you know what kind of torment you put me through? I thought I’d lost you for good; I almost died from the—”
Throwing my arms around her, I hugged her to me, glad to have her back in my world. “I missed you too,” I whispered in her ear. “I love you, Aunt Melaina.”
She shuddered in my arms, a small sob working up her throat. Then she pushed me away. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? We are not the hugging sort.” Glaring at Indigo, she pointed. “Way to go, you fucking High Clifter. You turned my perfectly tough little girl into a soft-hearted pansy.”
He grinned at her and saluted. “And you’re welcome for that.”
With a sniff, she turned back to me, looking me over severely, probably searching for wounds. But Indigo had healed them all. Finally, she settled for a sneer as she took in my shaved head. Reaching out, she barely touched the stubble. “And what motherfucker took all that gorgeous hair? I want to personally rip his throat out with—”