Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 296(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
“After that night, things were weird between us. Back then, I thought it might have been because she regretted what we did. A couple of weeks later, Amber disappears for three days, saying she had the flu, and then she shows up at my parents’ house with her parents.
“She’s crying and shit, and her father said I took advantage of her. As in, he said I raped her. And if that wasn’t bad enough, because of what I did, she was pregnant. Graduation was two weeks away, and Amber’s parents demanded I leave right after graduation or they were going to press rape charges against me. I enlisted the next day into the Army and never looked back.”
Regret burns, and like a bitter pill, the taste lingers. I resist the urge to jump up off the couch and pace the space in front of me.
“I lost everything that day, Pixie. My father’s respect, my home because I couldn’t go back because of Amber and her parents, and my soul. Because, let me tell you, nothing will make your heart and soul shrivel up faster than being accused of being a fucking rapist when you thought you were having consensual sex with your girlfriend, but you were too fucking drunk to remember.”
“Do you mind if I ask what happened with the baby, Trevor?”
Her question stumps me. It’s the last thing I expected her to ask. In fact, I’m shocked I’m even still sitting beside her and she hasn’t sent me packing already.
“I was told later that she lost the baby. I might not have wanted to be a father at eighteen, but hearing that, I felt responsible somehow. I fucked up Amber’s life and lost our child. If they couldn’t have a good life, then neither would I. This is why I don’t do permanent, Pixie.
“After that, I shut myself off emotionally. And doing that has led me to doing a lot of bad shit simply because, in a lot of ways, I no longer give a fuck. I’m not going to tell you about every dark thing I’ve done in my life; that’s on me to keep. What I can tell you is that I’m not a good man, I’ve got blood on my hands, and I can never, ever give you what you want or deserve out of a man, which is love and a good life.”
“Why do you think you have no good to give, Trevor? I see and feel nothing but good from you.”
“Pixie, I’ve tried repentance. Hell, Morgan’s sister Madyson, she went through hell. I don’t speak to her. I want her to live her life, move on, and for that reason I leave her alone. I help how I can for her to have a fresh start.”
“Morgan and Madyson would want to know this.”
“Pixie, it’s not for you to tell. It’s on me and I don’t want them to know I am part of their lives.”
“I understand.”
Her reply is genuine and I feel like Pixie understands me in a way no one else ever has. Maybe in a way more than I understand myself.
“I’ve spent my own time in the dark, Trevor. Wishing, praying, and doing anything I thought I could to right some wrong. In the end, I had to face that things happen in life, some are to teach us about ourselves.”
~Paisley~
I sit here, silently stunned at everything Trevor Blake has laid out in front of me. He thinks he’s dark and hardened like coal. I think he’s honorable and respectable. Not because he made a bad decision when he was a teenager. No, because he was man enough to accept it.
The weight he’s carried for all these years is insurmountable.
Part of me just can’t believe what he’s saying. He’s a rapist? I may not know him as well as Ice, Hammer, Morgan, or Des, but I can’t believe that this man is a rapist.
He doesn’t have a clear memory.
“Trevor,” I say his name softly, “have you ever considered being hypnotized to bring up the memories? You aren’t even sure what happened that night.”
He lifts his hand. Then, using the backs of his knuckles, he gently runs them down the side of my face. “I treasure this moment, Pixie. You see too much good where there isn’t any.”
Tears form in the corners of my eyes. “I see a man who didn’t take advantage of me when I hit him with my car. I see a man who stood out with an old lady at the grocery store to help her get her groceries in a cab. I see a man who, as much as he wants to stay away, he’s gone beyond his own limits, all because of a stranger who needs her energy reset. Those are all selfless acts. They are all good things.”