Forty-one

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"He forced himself on me." I don't dare look at Liam so I stare down on my lap while rubbing my right-hand fingers on my left-hand knuckles.

Rape is the right word, Kira. He raped you; even if you try to say he didn't over and over again or not.

I ignore this voice in my head by shutting my eyes tightly until Liam stands up. With a deep scowl on his face, his chest thumps up and down as stares down at me as if I've just confirmed the horror he was possibly imagining already.

My heart shrinks in fear, worry, and anxiety about what he'll say or do next.

"He—" he starts but nothing comes out of his mouth as intended. He runs a hand through his hair, seemingly pained and battered by the extremes of anger before he snaps, "He raped you?"

I don't even nod.

Saying that he pushed his tongue inside my mouth while pinning me down with every strength in his body feels so hard, let alone explaining how he ripped my clothes and thrust me once, then twice, until I lost my mind and turned into a crazy animal.

"No, I didn't let him do it, Liam. No, he didn't." I shake my head profusely, trying so hard to deny what happened that night is still a scar on my body and mind. "It didn't happen. I know Dr. Snape says it did, but I know it didn't. I hit him. I hit him so hard and he stopped. Trust me, Liam, I didn't let him." I break into sobs, my body shaking violently as pain shoots through me sporadically.

And slowly Liam's anger turns to pity the more he watches hysteria consuming me, turning me into a broken woman who mumbles things she wants to believe in.

"Kira," he calls while crouching down before me. I gaze at him, tears pooling in my eyes. "It's alright. Mhhh? It's okay." He carefully takes my hands but the image of blood and the sounds of Jeremy's cries make me wince back.

"I didn't let him, Liam. I hit him hard with a candle holder and he stopped," I go on, for I don't want to feel like a rape victim.

I hate it.

It's so disgusting.

"It wasn't your fault, Kira," Liam whispers, adamantly encasing my hands in his on my thighs. "Please stop hurting yourself now." He rises a bit and scoots himself onto the couch, sitting down next to me without freeing my hands.

"But he's still here, Liam. He's always been here! You saw what happened earlier, right?" I cry.

"Look at me." Liam lifts my chin until our eyes meet. Tenderly, he says, "It's over. That night is over. Yes, you hit that bastard and he stopped, Kira. You did what you could and it's okay now, do you understand me?"

"Hmm." I bob my head slightly.

I feel his arm scooting me closer until my head rests on his chest. More tears barrel down my face, impelling my eyes to draw everything out of sight. I allow myself to relive the whole scene once and for all, fully aware that it's nothing but a bad memory now.

Memory. It's over.

"When I saw blood dripping from his head I thought I killed him. I watched him lying on my bed, and I was holding the candle holder, trembling, and I thought I'm a murderer," I confess, a moment later.

Honestly, I wanted to kill Jeremy. I was this close to killing him with my own hands and I regretted that I didn't every moment I thought of him.

"When did that happen?" Liam asks, his fingers skittling through my hair.

My body relaxes slowly to mirror his soothing caress.

"Like... three years ago," I answer. "It was the day we finished our finals. Sam was out to party, and I was home in the flat that we rented together. She was dating Jay, as she calls him, but I somehow realized the bastard was after me and not her. He only dated Sam to get closer to me."

"Bastard," Liam breathes, and I gather the tension in his muscles that was slowly fading.

"It was just a movie night to me," I continue. "I was on a couch with a large popcorn bowl on my lap getting wasted in Netflix. It was around nine when I heard a knock at the door, but I wasn't expecting a soul and Sam had the keys."

Liam waits patiently.

"I was surprised to find Jeremy because he was supposed to be at the party with his friends, with Sam, but he was there instead." I feel my breath thickening.

He was drunk, I keep narrating, and I knew right away something was off. I got defensive, and he started coming hard on me, claiming he loved me, as he always did. He begged me to accept his love, and he'd leave Sam right away as he had no feelings for her but for me.

"We started arguing, and eventually we fought, but he was too powerful and so he managed to get me in bed and..." My heart rate increases and my breath intensifies.

I felt so helpless. So humiliated. So ravaged. I hated the feeling of any guy touching me from that day onward, not until I met Liam who lifted the curse.

Liam sighs heavily, and his fingers pause for a moment, caressing my scalps no more until he manages to ask, "Did you report him to the authorities?"

I let out a small, aggravated laugh.

"The authority? What for? Who would've believed me? It was going to be his words against mine. He's from a very influential family, and I'm just a pauper and a loner. Within a blink of an eye I would've probably turned into a slut who wanted his money and decided to make up the story," I say bittersweetly, and it's exactly what Jeremy told me that night.

It's exactly what happens most of the time to people of my background—orphans and poor students surviving through meager wages and student loans—and I wasn't brave enough to even try reporting him in fear of my own dignity and reputation.

Perhaps I should have.

"He deserves to be locked up," Liam remarks, his baritone projecting deep, unresolved fury. Sighing, he asks, "How did you even meet him?"

I pull back from his arms and sit straight. He does the same, eyes on me.

"I worked as a swimming instructor at his family's resort. One day I found a guy floating on the pool and I presumed the water had had him, so I jumped over to save him."

"And then?" Liam urges, frowning.

"Well... I just pulled him out of the pool, and to my disgrace, I realized he was only pranking me. He was fine; he just took advantage of my adrenaline to have fun with a new hire," I tell Liam, skipping the part where I gave Jeremy mouth-to-mouth.

"Oh, and you started dating?" Liam snorts, and for the first time, I'm detecting sarcasm in his words—a bit unlikely. "Did you date him, Kira?" he insists profusely.

"Dating? No!" I laugh heartily for change.

"Oh, you think I'm funny now?" Liam rolls his eyes.

"No, I think you're jealous."

"I'm not jealous."

"Yes, you are," I insist.

We joke for a while, and I find the tension slowly thinning. Moreover, the burden I've been carrying around about this story gets off my shoulder and it's the greatest feeling ever, little did I know until now.

"So, you became friends with him?" Liam continues.

"No, I've never been friends with him. Maybe acquaintances and some sort of work colleagues," I reply. "After our first meeting, Jeremy kept forging coincidences just to bump into me by the resorts, or anywhere, and it started making me sick because it felt like stalking. He somehow got close to Sam through Veronica, one of their friends in common, and ended up dating."

"That's very low," Liam remarks.

"I know," I reply. "When he told me he was dating Sam to get closer to me, I tried to warn Sam about him. I just couldn't tell her the reason why, and it was my biggest mistake. Always. Thinking that I'm protecting her by hiding things."

Liam makes no comment on this other than asking, "Does she know about the incident?"

Just the thought of that makes my heart sink into the pits of my stomach.

"I called Sam that night. I needed her badly, but she didn't answer my calls. How could she? She was busy celebrating, and I couldn't blame her." A rueful laugh leaves my lips. "She didn't come home either. She was probably wasted by the end of the night so she stayed with her friends. And when she returned the next day, I was away. I had to leave for a while and it's how I decided to keep it to myself. I stayed in San Francisco for a few days as it's where I used to live with my family. I just needed to feel closer to them in one way or another."

"God," Liam murmurs, taking a lungful of breath. A small silence prevails until he says, "Your friendship is a bit questionable when I think deeply about it—especially with the pack of friends she hangs around with. But I understand where you both come from."

I shrug. What can I say? To each their own.

"I honestly never saw eye-to-eye with her friends. I know Sam and I are very different, but we still put up with each other because we always believed we had to; at least I foolishly did. She's that one sister you're sharing blood with, so whether they are sweet or not, good or bad, they're still your blood and there's nothing you can do about it other than accepting it." I take a deep sigh. "Well, I'm not a saint, Liam, I've got my shortcomings, too many of them, but she also took me as I am and never tried to change me."

I can't say Sam is a bad person. We both have good and evil coexisting in us and maybe I'm a ninny to believe so.

"I see," Liam mutters, and I keep quiet for a good while, contemplating everything.

"I wonder if I was the reason for all of my misfortunes," I think out loud. "Could it be—"

"Hey, forget about him now," Liam snaps quietly. "He's a bastard and none of that was your fault, do you understand me?"

"Hmm." I nod, staring at him with a faint smile.

I've waited long enough to hear this.

Just this, and it feels healing.

"And if Samantha is really your friend, then she'll come around and understand you. A true friend would wish nothing but the best for the other, I believe. I'm not great in that friendship arena, too, but I wouldn't want to see Malik suffer for something I'm capable of fixing." He stares at me seriously, and it melts my heart.

"Thank you." I hug him so tightly, inhaling every scent of his.

Kissing my temple, he says, "You have nothing to thank me for, Kira. I'm glad you told me this."

I am too. Having this man by my side, I feel like I've hit a jackpot.

Silence ensues for a long while until I'm back to my usual prospect.

"Do you want some wine?" I whisper, my voice soft and trouble-free, embracing the feeling of safety by being right next to him.

"Depends." He smiles. "Are we getting drunk?"

"Woah," I chuckle, recalling the drunk version of him.

I'd buy a ticket to watch it again.

"Surely that can be arranged, Mr. Darcy." I get up and stagger toward the kitchen.

"I'm looking forward," he replies coolly.

I grab a bottle and glasses, my face flushed with a constant smile.

"And some movie?" I ask as I return.

"Movie?" Liam sits upright.

"Yeah." I place the two glasses on the coffee table and beckon him to deal with the bottle as I wander toward the television set. "What kind of movies do you like?"

"Action?" he replies vaguely, and I frown at it.

So original, Darcy. I wasn't expecting a 'rom-com' as the answer.

"Action? Who's your favorite actor?" I ask as something tells me that he doesn't watch movies that much.

"Harrison Ford, Daniel Craig, Statham... Well, it's hard to have one favorite actor, don't you think?" he says while pouring the wine.

I burst out laughing. "Let me guess, you also like Sylvester Stallone, Jean Claude, and—" I pause to look him in the eyes, and to my surprise, he's smiling sheepishly. "Oh Lord, am I right?"

"I do like them, but how do you know that?" he seriously asks.

"Oh, come on, Liam." I laugh again. "It's obvious someone like you would prefer their childhood actors over the new generation. They're so 90s if we maybe exclude Statham?" I plug the HDMI adapter to connect the PC to a TV.

"So, now you think you know me, don't you?" Liam remarks comically.

A little. But I'd love to know more, to unwrap all the mysteries of Darcy. I want to know most of him.

"I don't need your résumé to realize how many times you've watched Indiana Jones and the fact that you don't know who Chris Hemsworth is," I tease.

I love this moment.

"Who is he? I mean, that Chris Hemsworth fellow." He's now sipping the red wine slowly.

He can't be serious, can he? I glance up at him, and his poised smile knocks me off. I can't even read him.

"Some insanely good-looking actor with a very deep and sexy voice," I respond teasingly. "Oh, and he has a brother named Liam," I add.

"Really? And I suppose he's some kind of celebrity crush of yours?" he asks while taking the rim of his wind glass away from his lips.

Sighing, I answer, "I do, but I've got a way better catch than the God of thunder." I wink, and his gentle laugh is my reward.

I want this to be our new beginning.


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