Without a word, Liam soaped up his hands, took my hand in his, and washed it, thoroughly rubbing up and down each finger and around my palm and the back of my hand. His huge hands encircled my arm, and he washed from my wrist to my armpit, not missing an inch. He pressed my hand to his shoulder, and I clung to him as he took my other hand and did the same. Tears streamed down my face as he silently, tenderly washed me, tears filling his eyes too.
He guided me under the hot water and rinsed the soap away. He pressed a long kiss into my left palm, then my right, his teary gaze never straying from mine.
He turned me around and washed my shoulders and back, gently massaging my aching muscles, coaxing my body to relax under his touch. He rinsed me once more under the hot water, and he rained kisses across my shoulders.
Sobs tore through me, nearly taking me to my knees, but Liam held me up, anchoring me to him. “I have you,” he whispered into my ear. He turned me to face him and tilted my face up. “So brave. So beautiful, inside and out.” He brushed his lips against mine. “So strong, Firefly. You’ve got this.”
I pulled in a shaky breath and tried to straighten up.
“That’s my girl.” When I was steady, he lathered up his hands again, and with his gaze on mine, he washed my chest, his hands gentle but firm. He cupped my breasts, holding onto them. Claiming them. He dropped to his knees and washedmy stomach, his touch feather-light over my bruises, then he skipped down to scrub my lower legs and feet.
He looked up, his expression heavy. “Pass me the soap, please.”
He lathered up his hands, then he massaged into the muscles of my outer thighs, working his way in. I spread my legs to give him room. To give permission. His hands slid up and down my thighs, up the front and around to the back, over my butt and across my hips.
“May I?” he asked softly, and I nodded. His hand covered my mound. Tenderly and thoroughly, he washed me, his other hand steadying me, our eyes locked.
He stood and moved me under the water again, rinsing and kissing everywhere he’d washed, little pecks and open mouth kisses. “Mine,” he said against my skin. “Mine and yours, and that’s it, Firefly.”
He worked the shampoo into my hair, his fingers firm and sure against my scalp. I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch, into him. I tilted my head back under the water as he rinsed, letting the warmth wash over me, rinsing it all away. Then he repeated the process with the conditioner, his hands lingering, suspending us in the moment.
With both of us enveloped in the hot water and steam, he speared his hands into my hair, holding me in place, and leaned in close, his breath feathering over my face. “All clean, Firefly. You always were. Always will be.”
“Jen Jen.” Ty was waiting by the door when we got there, and he pulled me right into a hug.
I hugged him back, my heart so happy to see him. “Hi, Teddy Bear.” The man hugging me was more like a full-grown bear, but he’d always be my Teddy Bear. “When did you get so big?”
“It’s been a while.”
His jab was fair, and it hit hard. “I’m sorry I haven’t visited in so long. And I’m really sorry I said I couldn’t go to your graduation.”
“It’s okay, just tell me what’s going on. Is it about when you were attacked?” Tyler released me, frowning at my bruised face.
I looked over at our parents hovering nervously nearby. They both looked wrecked, like they’d barely slept last night.
Liam shook Tyler’s hand, breaking some of the tension, and politely acknowledged my parents. I greeted my parents awkwardly, and noticed that they seemed to have aged years since yesterday—since I burdened them with my issues. I almost felt guilty, because I actually had a great night. Liam had dried me off after the shower, dressed me in his sweats, and snuggled with me all night long, whispering beautiful words until I fell asleep safely in his arms. But then I looked back at Tyler, and any shred of guilt fell away. If this conversation ended with Ty and me comparing stories of what Brian did to us, our parents deserved every bit of blame.
“Jen Jen, I know something’s wrong. Spill it,” Tyler pleaded.
“Okay. Sit.” I waited for him to sit, but I paced in front of him, every muscle in my body wound tight. “So, when we were younger…” My throat tightened, and I couldn’t get the words out. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. At least I knew what was coming. If my worst fear was true, I was also tearing open Tyler’s secrets with no warning. If I expected him to handle that, I had to handle myself.
I sat on the coffee table in front of him and tried to banish my nerves, letting my worry for Ty take over. “When we were younger…Brian…did stuff to me. Touched me. Made me touch him.”
He leaped to his feet. “Are you fucking serious! Brian Belke fucking touched you?”
“Tyler, watch your mouth!”
He turned on our dad. “Watch your mouth? That’s all you have to say? Now you decide to be a parent about my fucking language? Where were you when Jenna needed you?”
“Tyler!” my mom cried.
“Jenna hated when he was here. You never cared! You were just happy to have someone to hand us off to so you could work and hobnob with your fancy friends.”
“You knew that?” I asked.
“I didn’t know about this. I swear, I didn’t know. If I knew he was hurting you, God, I would’ve killed him.” Tyler grabbed his hair with both hands, tugging at the strands. “Instead, I looked up to him. Fuck! I thought he was so cool when I was little. And then he?—”
My heart stopped, my blood turning to ice. No. Please, no. “He what?”