Page 137 of Unbound

Part of me wants to say no, self-preservation and fear riding me hard. But it’s freezing, and I don’t want to go back in the trailer with Mom while she cries all night and yells at me—finds a way to blame me for it all.

“Okay,” I agree, nodding my head. He smiles and it makes me feel a little warmer in the icy snow.

Panicked breaths saw out of me, and Ethan’s eyes widen just slightly.

“Relax, Polly,” he whispers. “Breathe.”

I can’t.

“You need to cry? That’s okay—they can’t hear it in here, okay? Just calm down.”

I shake my head, wanting to scream and cry and rage. “Stop it,” I beg instead. Hatred for myself only grows.

Tears work down my cheeks for a long moment, but I’m too scared to look away from him. Ethan steps forward, hands still raised as if to placate me. He grabs the hand towel off the hook by my head, reaching out slowly to wipe away my tears.

It’s worse. At one time, I would’ve begged for this affection, when it was the only touch I knew. The confusing swirl of comfort and fear only serves to make me sicker.

“All better,” he sighs, releasing my chin and stepping back. “God, Polly—you still look so much like your mom. Just more beautiful.”

Just like your mom.

“I’ll let you wash your hands,” he says. “But hurry. You better get back to your sweet boyfriend. I’ll go keep my wife and my stepson company until you’re all put together.”

The reminder is as sharp as the snick of the door.

I let a few silent sobs rake out, ugly and harsh as I run the tap to cover the noise just in case. Closing my eyes tightly, I pull it all back, slow and sure. Until everything is sealed behind my comforting barrier of ice. Walls of adamant steel are cracked but strong where they’ve protected me for so long. I hide behind them now.

It’s like mourning myself as I stare in the mirror, knowing that I have to let go of who I’ve been since arriving in Waterfell—the image of myself I’d finally created that was good and nearly whole, without the darkened shadows of my past. And I have to let go of the one person I’ve ever tried to hold on to for myself.

Bennett.

Stop it. You knew this would happen. It was stupid to try to hold him. Stupid.

I try to shake the thought from my head, ripping a few pieces of toilet paper to dab below my eyes.

Chapter 59

THEN: Freshman Year, New Year’s Eve, 8:45 p.m.

Paloma

It’s quiet, almost somber in the cabin of Bennett’s car as we drive back to Waterfell.

I’d barely spoken more than three full sentences through dinner, answering all Helen’s well-meaning questions with simple, one-word responses. I’d almost thrown up when Ethan squeezed Bennett’s shoulder as he served our desserts.

Bennett reached for my hand at one point and I flinched, pulling it back and away from him, which only served to make us both more upset.

He sits quietly, carefully driving one-handed while his other palm rests firmly on my thigh. It’s only when we’re closing in on the downtown streets that he finally asks, “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” I snap out. He looks at me, pulling to a stop at the red light. His hand reaches forward to wipe an embarrassing stray tear from the corner of my eye and I flinch back.

“All better.”

I grab the handlebar above me, suddenly feeling like the entire car is spinning.

“Actually, do you think you could drop me at the dorms?” I don’t ask until we’re pulling up to Bennett’s townhouse, feeling even more ridiculous since we’re already here and I’m asking him to cart me around like a car service.

“Oh.” Bennett shakes his head a little as he parks on the curb. “I—yeah, of course. If that’s what you want?”