Getting It Twisted (Unforgivable Needs #1)

14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Daniel

I’m just going to check. It’s probably stupid. This creepy-ass house is playing tricks on me.

All night long, Joshua’s words circled back into my head.

Do you know about the skeletons he’s hiding in the closet?

With the risk of being too literal, there is only one closet in Nathan’s house: the old cabinet in his mom’s room.

Nathan is still sleeping soundly in bed. He doesn’t even have to know.

The hinges creak when I pull the doors open by their intricate, carved metal handles.

Inside, there are shelf upon shelf of old clothes and linen, and drawers full of sex toys and lingerie. On the highest shelf lies an assortment of paperwork and a small woven box. For some reason, my eyes are drawn to it, and I pull it out.

Beneath a layer of soft, crumpled paper is a photograph. A photograph of a young boy, naked on a bed. His face, scrunched up in pain, is half-hidden from the camera. He’s younger than I’ve ever seen him, but those vivid green eyes, the straight slope of his nose, the narrow jaw . . .

There’s no doubt. It’s him.

There are dozens of them. Dozens of photos. In most, he can’t be older than eight or nine. On some, there’s a hand—an adult’s hand, large and hairy. Oh god. He . . .

The floor melts under my feet, and my stomach plunges with it.

“Daniel?” The bedsheets rustle as Nathan sits up. “What are you doing?”

“Nathan,” I say, hands shaking, pulse drumming in my ears. “What the hell is this?”

His gaze lands on the box in my hands, and his eyes widen and fill with dread. For once at a loss for words, he just stares at me.

I shove the pictures back into the box. Once the initial shock has settled, my chest fills with a wild-eyed rage the likes of which I haven’t felt since I barged into Eric and Tyler undressing Nathan at the grad party.

I clench my fists by my sides, and my voice comes out snarled and gritted, as if I’m trying to pass a poison. “Who did this to you?”

Nathan pulls his knees into his chest and wraps his arms around his legs, face ghostly pale.

I sit down next to him. “This is . . .” I don’t know what to say. Horrible? Disgusting? No word can properly describe it. “This was all before we met?” I won’t be able to live with myself if this was going on while we knew each other. My guilt over not saving him from his mother is painful enough. “I thought it was Theresa who . . .”

“Was a whore?” Nathan snaps. “She was. She sold herself to the local men in town, to truckers and to random passersby. To your uncle too.”

“I know that. But what does it have to do with this?”

He shrugs, refusing to meet my eyes. “Let’s just say some of her clients caught an interest in me too.”

A cold chill runs down my spine. “You were just a little kid.”

“Yes, Daniel, and that was kind of the point for them, wasn’t it?”

“How often did this happen?”

“I dunno. My memory’s a little hazy from that time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He looks up, face oddly resigned, eyes hard and narrow. No trace remains of the pale, scared kid from a few moments ago.

“Why would I? I hardly ever think about it myself. Why would I rehash that shit with you?”

“Did she know?”

He snorts out a joyless laugh. “What do you think? She orchestrated it. One of her boyfriends snapped those pictures. She was pissed off that some of her tricks were more interested in me than in her, but whatever. I assume they paid her money for it; I don’t know for sure. Back then, she used to lock me up in my room a lot. It happened in here too though,” he adds, eyes dark and mouth a hard line.

It happened . . .

A wave of nausea rises up my throat. “Where is he now? That man?” I want to strangle everyone who’s ever laid a hand on him. Theresa’s fucking lucky she’s six feet under.

“Long gone. Besides, he wasn’t the only one.”

“Tell me about them,” I growl. “All of them.”

“What’s the point, Daniel? That shit doesn’t matter anymore. None of it does.”

“Don’t you get it? These people need to pay for what they did to you.” How can I ever find rest until they have?

Nathan just glares at me, eyes so dark they’re almost black.

I have to ask. Even though the answer might shred me up inside, I have to.

“Is this why you act the way you do? With sex? Is that what this is about?” I point between us. “You and me.”

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Maybe it was like that with others, but . . . not with you.”

“You can’t pretend it doesn’t affect you. Fuck, of course it still affects you. It’s what living here is about, isn’t it? You’re stuck there, with them. You’re stuck remembering it.” I rake a hand through my hair. I feel like screaming, but the shock is still layered like cloying dust in my lungs. “I won’t be like them, Nathan. I refuse to be one of your abusers.”

His gaze cuts up to me, eyes blazing. “Oh yeah? What if you already are?”

My stomach does a flip. What the hell?

“The grad party,” he clarifies. “You fought off Eric and Tyler, yeah, but then you made sure I got fucked regardless. Maybe I didn’t need that from you. Maybe I wanted one fucking aspect of my life to remain pure and untainted! But no, couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“You kissed me,” I whisper. “You wanted it. You told me you wanted it.” I remember his arms stretching out for me, his heady voice in my ear. His lips against my neck. Go ahead, do it. I want you to.

“I was fucked up on vodka and whatever drug they slipped me. I barely remember shit from that night, but I sure remember you not hesitating one second to fuck me.”

“Then why . . . why did you . . .”

“Come see you? I dunno,” he says with a shrug. “I needed someone to fuck while I was here, and since you’d already shown an interest, I figured why not? Might as well be you.”

“So it could have been just anyone? Anyone can fuck you and hurt you the way you want?”

I’m not special to him. I’m not special to anyone.

George has April. Mom has Jessie. I thought I had Nathan, but apparently, that ideal is further from the truth than I thought.

Nathan mumbles something that sounds like, “No, not anyone,” but I’m too far gone to acknowledge his words. Something dark has dredged up from the depths of me, and there are no longer any lies he can spin for me—no manipulations he can use to reel me back in.

I can’t even start to process what he told me about the grad party. It’s all a jumbled, twisted mess in my head—a truth way uglier than I’m willing to accept—and I have to get away. I have to get away from him, for my sake as well as his.

“You know what?” I grit out. “I tried to give this a chance. But it’s clearly not fucking working.”

“You think I love this shithole town so much? You think I won’t leave?”

“Maybe it’s for the best. Maybe it’s for the best that you do leave.”

For a split second, there’s stark pain in his eyes he cannot hide, but just as soon, his face morphs into an expression of fury.

“Fine!” he snaps. “But if you go now, don’t bother coming back. I won’t be here waiting for you.”

I don’t know how I make it out of the house. One second, I’m there, in the bedroom where Nathan endured so many horrors and where we shared so many precious moments together—moments that now turn sour in my mouth. The next second, I’m storming down the yard, eyes so blurry with tears I can barely see.

Damn him. Damn him! Why did he even come back? Why did he come back to me ? Before he showed up, I was doing fine. At least I was somewhat stable, and not upended by all this goddamned frustration he awakes in me. At least I wasn’t in the pain I’m in now.

I needed someone to fuck while I was here. Might as well be you.

How could I have been so fucking stupid? I wanted, so badly, to believe that what we have is more than sex, but clearly Nathan isn’t capable of any real connection. Clearly he’s not capable of . . . of loving me. Considering what he’s been through, I shouldn’t blame him for it, but that doesn’t take away my pain.

I shove myself into the driver’s seat, wipe the furious tears from my face, and start the car.